YA Book Club: Debutante Hill

 

Old school class drama from the 50s

I have some really old books in my collection. This is from 1958, and could be had for 45 cents! 

Lynn is a pretty, popular, and wealthy teen who lives on The Hill, where the most affluent families in Rivertown reside. The plot revolves around Mrs. Peterson, who, to elevate her daughter Brenda's social standing and "liven things up," proposes bringing back debutante balls and allowing the daughters from prestigious families to come out.  

Lynn's father, a successful doctor who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, declines the invite on Lynn's behalf, much to his daughter's shock and horror. 

Ostracized from doing what her friends are doing - exclusive dances, parties, dinners, and social events - Lynn learns of the class divide among her friends and the wider circle of students at her school. She is a have who learns from the have-nots. She makes friends outside her clique and learns a little about social justice. 

It was fascinating to me, this idea of being a debutante; I grew up a middle-class midwesterner in a small-to-mid-sized city. It was a big deal to go to prom; a cotillion was a completely foreign concept. Yet I do recall shopping for prom dresses and the ladies at Jacobson's wanting to know exactly what events I would be attending to ensure there would be no faux pas of a girl showing up in the same gown. 

I bought my gown at Maurices at the mall instead. And Cheri, a girl from the junior class, showed up in the same dress. It was not a big deal. 

Since then, I learned that in larger cities with old-money families, this is quite the to-do. When I moved to St. Louis, I discovered it was common for well-connected young ladies such as my co-worker Judith to be presented in more than one city, say STL in the spring, and Cleveland - Cleveland! - in the fall. Memory escapes me, but one woman I worked with in the archdiocese debuted in STL, Kansas City, AND Baton Rouge, all connected to her sorority's formal schedule. Alpha Kappa Alpha, if I recall...

Anyway, back to Lynn. Mrs. Peterson fights publicly with Lynn's father, and one of the most elaborate parties was a benefit for the hospital where he was chief of staff. 

Says Dad: Thanks for the coin, but we aren't coming. 

Lynn's boyfriend Paul, one of the high-profile young men in town and home from college for Christmas, is swept up in party invitations, and she doesn't see him at all over the break. 

I have to call out pious dad for this one: he holds Lynn to this standard, but allows her older brother Ernie, who is best friend Nancy's boyfriend, to escort Nancy to all the parties. Lynn isn't allowed to participate, but her brother can? Double standard! 

Anyway, Paul is recruited to escort Brenda to all the parties. Lynn, who had befriended Anne, a poor girl in the art club, accepts a date from her brother Dirk, a hood rat with some suspicious friends.

Chaos ensues. 

Boyfriend breaks up with her over the new friendship with Dirk.

Best friend Nancy calls Lynn out for being a snob of another kind, unwilling to be friends because they aren't running in the same circles anymore. 

Why can't we all get along? 

Because Brenda leaves the money from the benefit in her pocketbook and leaves the pocketbook in the front seat of her car, at school, unlocked, like a dumbass.

She blames Dirk for the theft. This leads to his expulsion from school when the pocketbook is found in his partially open gym bag. 

Dirk maintains his innocence. 

Dirk leaves school, and Lynn is ostracized from the elite social circle, as Brenda can't stop talking about the thief and his moll. 

Paul, being a nobleman home on spring break, talks to Lynn about it, and she says nay - Dirk wouldn't do that. Brenda can't stop her smear campaign.  But what about the other guy, says Lynn, donning her Nancy Drew persona.  

Let us TCB, says Dirk, I think so too.

Turns out the dropout creep Dirk knew from working on cars was a short-time criminal, doing shady stuff behind the school, and when he saw the pocketbook, opportunity knocked. So did Dirk and Paul - fist, meet face - and cops are called. 

Money recovered, reputations restored, Dirk back in school, vindicated. 

But the ball must go on. 

Paul is restored to boo status, and plans to tell Brenda to go it alone to the Big Dance. 

Brenda trumps them and says eff that, this is my mom's BS, I didn't want to do this anyway, I just wanted to be friends with y'all. 

Lynn says THIS WAS ALL FOR YOU, you have to see this to the end, put on those pearls. 

Lil' sis says nah bish, you need a dressing down first - you hung my sis out to dry because you were getting attention and tried to take her man. 

Brenda: Wha' - I thought you were over. 

Lil sis: Who told you that - YOUR MOM? 

Lynn - just go LD, be a queen, deal with mom later. 

Younger sis - Dody, I think - you're just going to let that go? Eff that. 

Dody and friends call BS on the whole fiasco and collectively say: none of us wants this next year; bring back the sock hops and making out at the drive-in. Timeline-wise, Dody and pals would be the ones burning their bras in the mid-60s. 

The end.

Raised on Country Sunshine: Big Girls, Big Voices

Dolly Parton deserves her likeness on holiday beverage napkins

One of the things I do respect about country music is the high profile of its female stars. While there is a level of misogyny prevalent in most genres, the ladies of country music are not afraid. They will to call out wrongdoing, love out loud, and let you hear the news: 

Dolly Parton, Jolene

Gretchen Wilson, Redneck Woman

Wanda Jackson, Funnel of Love

The Chicks, Goodbye Earl

Taylor Swift, Lover

Tracy Chapman, Fast Car 

Jeannie Riley, Harper Valley PTA 

Loretta Lynn, Don't Come Home a'Drinkin with Lovin' on Your Mind 

Kacey Musgraves, Biscuits 

Carrie Underwood, Before He Cheats 

Typing Out Loud: Oy Vey

The real champions

I try to keep my commentary on this blog PG, but...

Jesus fucking Christ.

Okay. So USA Women's Hockey won the gold medal at the Olympic Games last week. They have been dominant in the sport since it was introduced to the Games in 1998. This includes winning three gold medals in that short span of time. 

Well, the men won too, for the first time in 46 years, since the Miracle on Ice back in 1980. It was a crazy, intense win over Canada, an NHL All-Star team vs. an All-Star team that went into overtime with one guy playing with a broken tooth, blood everywhere.

It was awesome. For a while, anyway. 

Locker room celebration with the head of the FBI chugging beers like a frat bro, and the president calls to congratulate them, and invites them to the White House for a celebration. 

Cheers. 

Then he cracks a joke that he guesses he hasta invite the girls too, or else he'd get impeached. 

One player joyfully shouts, "Absolutely!" while another chimes in, "Two for two!"

The rest groan and laugh at having to share space with the girls. 

Oh, fuck you. Fuck all of you - except those two that spoke up but were drowned out. 

I've heard this my whole life. I wasn't surprised, just disappointed. Again. 

Backlash was swift, but the boys in the clubhouse didn't want to budge on it. 

This is the "make me a sandwich" crowd, defending it as "just" locker room talk. 

This is the pick-me apologists giving the benefit of the doubt to men. Again. 

This is the bros arguing that people don't care about women's sports, and that more people watched the marquee gold medal men's hockey game.

This is dismissing female athletes, as "Men would kick the girls' asses head to head!"

This is the dudes in MAGA hats wondering why the liberals are making it political. 

This is the boys being boys, of course, leading a "USA!" chant while wearing their medals at a freaking strip club.

Then there's the player who attempts to dismiss this uproar as "almost nothing," a quote that, in and of itself, is telling. He knows, deep down, it's something. 

That's It, Just One Line: Another Brick in the Wall

 "We don't need no education."

The Fifth Beatle: The Muses, Phase Two

Phase two, fan fun in Photoshop, L-R: Olivia, Linda, Yoko, Barbara

Yoko

Ooh, the polarizing figure. She sang backup on The White Album, providing the childlike voice in Bungalow Bill. She is hated by Beatles fans for her contribution to "the breakup," although signs were already evident that they were headed in that direction anyway. Paul dismisses the idea of her interference while sitting on an amp, eating chicken, and darning socks. Alas, the allegations of drug abuse didn't help. 

But she has had to put up with fans' shit as a Beatle widow for 46 years, all while continuing to extend John's legacy. If it weren't for her, there wouldn't be the John who healed in the 70s from his traumatic childhood. No Milk and Honey album or Imagine documentary in the 80s. No Anthology in the 90s. No Now and Then in the 20s. 

Linda

Talk about a break from English tradition: Linda was an American divorcee with a child and a career as a photographer. Initially, I don't think she was as interested in him as he was in her, as she was hanging out with the Stones when they first met at the Bag O' Nails nightclub. She came from wealth, so she knew about the trappings of elite social circles and wanted a simple life with lots of kids. She was a hugger and friendly towards the band and Yoko. Watching Get Back documentary, she was refreshing and a comfort. She is my favorite Beatle wife.

She was also Paul's emotional support during the breakup of the Beatles and for the duration of their marriage, see Maybe I'm Amazed. She played keyboards in Wings, and kept up her photography while publishing books and raising children. A vegetarian, she also wrote cookbooks and produced a line of ready-made meals. A cruel twist of fate, she died of breast cancer, as Paul's mother had. C'mon God. 

My brain just compared Maybe I'm Amazed to Here, There and Everywhere, and I got woozy for a moment. There is no contest, they are peak Macca.  

Olivia

How does Olivia, who entered the party late, factor into this? I could end this with her cracking a lamp over the head of an intruder who dared to stab George in the middle of the night. However, it's so much more; without her vote, nothing would have happened after 2001. That includes the Cirque de Soliel Love show in Las Vegas, any of the remasters (including bringing Long Long Long back to life in 2009), a lovely book of poetry, and the last single, Now and Then.

Barbara

Ringo's Bond Girl and Cavewoman, she saved him from self-destruction through alcohol in the 80s, which led to his transformation as Mr. Conductor on Thomas the Tank Engine and the formation of the All-Star Band. 

Love to Nancy, but you arrived at the party a little late; I did, however, change the date of the Fifth Beatle posts to the 14th this year in honor of Paul's song to you, My Valentine.

...I've got nothing to say about Heather Mills. 

Lipstick on the Mic: The Go-Gos

Rock at any age.

When I was 12 or 13, I had a friend group where individuals claimed one member of Def Leppard as our mythical rock star boyfriend. Mine was Steve Clark. 

Why on earth weren't we aspiring for more? Why hang with the band when you could be the band? The Go-Go's had hit it big right around the same time; why weren't we picking our favorite member - Gina Schock - and emulating them to create our own pop-punk bands? 

If there was sexism at play, it was at our own hands. My husband, a Belinda Carlisle fan, would have been keen to be the super-boyfriend of a tribute-act rock star. 

They are Rock and Roll Hall of Famers, are an intimate part of the family tree that is the sisterhood in music, and still tour when the inspiration hits. 

I still want to be Gina. 

Essential tracks: Vacation, Head Over Heels, Turn to You, Lust to Love, This Town, Cool Jerk. 

YA Book Club: Dear Bill, Do You Remember Me?

I do love a good short story. I appreciate the challenge it poses to create a complete, complex character based on one moment in time. 

In this collection, Norma Fox Mazer creates women ages 13-18 and in one case, the journey of a young girl in Poland who forges a new life for herself as a teen, then adult in New York City. 

What's special about these women is the complex characters created in just a few pages: 

Louise, an 18-year-old accepting her fate as terminal cancer ravages her body and memory, while those around her avoid answering questions. 

Jessie, through a series of diary entries, chronicles her contentious first relationship and the steps she takes to find her own voice. 

Zoe, celebrating her 14th birthday and trying to break free of the watchful eye of her mother, aunt, and grandmother. 

Marylee, dealing with her parents' marriage breaking up and setting boundaries with a demanding boyfriend of her own. 

Kathy, attempting to write a letter to Bill, her sister's old boyfriend and her first crush. 

These characters are more complex than the typical romance novel protagonists; they are fully-fleshed out individuals with unusual home lives, often lower to middle class, not living out a fantasy of unlimited resources and wardrobes, flawless skin, winnin the popularity contest.