Martha Burk is making me crazy. Nuts, batty, goofy, squirrelly, as in looney-tunes. Shes got me so distraught, I keep having nightmares that Im back in grad school on my first day of Womens Literature, when nobody warned me Id need to pretend I hated men and loved Toni Morrison.
This ding-a-ling chairperson of the National Council of Womens Organizations probably thinks Hillary Clinton would make a great president. Granted, someone going through menopause would be highly equipped to take on terrorists - but can she type?
The truth of the matter is, just as Barbara Mandrell used to croon I was country when country wasnt cool, I was liberated long before feminists had time to buy up all the sensible shoes at Payless. Not since I was 17 years old, and my daddy passed away, have I allowed a man, or anyone, to tell me what to do. I even asked the minister to remove the phrase to obey from my wedding vows, since I kept imagining myself fetching slippers and newspapers with my teeth.
I know Im as good as any man at what I do, and better than most. But Im also secure enough in my womanhood not to have to be involved in everything males find enjoyable, so as not to feel excluded. Honestly, I have no hidden desires to shoot deer, scratch in public, or change lanes every five seconds.
My mother, grandmothers, sister, aunts, and most other female relatives and friends are, or were, equally as independent as I am, and, in fact, have never seemed to entertain any doubts whatsoever about their place in the scheme of things. We rule.
Are we Girls Gone Wild? Hardly. Just because we dont chop our hair off and wear Chapstick for lip gloss doesnt mean were all slutty sex kittens either. And while were on the subject of coarse and common coeds who ought to have their nasty little behinds beaten, lets press the point that they need to stop acting as if their mammary glands were blue ribbons just won at the county fair, dying to be displayed.
Like it or not, ladies set the moral standards in our society, and theyre definitely not holding up any end of the bargain. If Burk really cares about promoting the welfare of women, she might consider spending more time lecturing nubile ner-do-wells about how to comport themselves with dignity and respect, instead of fretting over who gets to hobknob in The Clubhouse with the boys.
Do I, or any women I know, need membership at The Augusta National, or any other exclusive mens club, to think were worthwhile, viable persons in the community? Do dogs really need a reason to bark? Does Martha B.?
Apparently not. Some people seem thrilled to start howling every time they feel remotely slighted or abused. But bragging and gloating over the strides shes making for women by threatening to picket next years Masters has done nothing but harm the very cause she claims to champion!
Somebody's missing the putt here, because the liberation of women has less than zero to do with trying to crash the gates of a private party. Plus, focusing on insignificant issues is not only stupid, as it strains at gnats and swallows camels, it detracts from emphasizing far more important concerns, such as fighting domestic violence against females all over America, or equally horrific atrocities abroad.
If Im treated fairly under the law, if my paycheck is unbiased, and if my basic human rights remain intact, Im reasonably certain being left out of the Rich Men Wearing Visors fraternity wont cause me to lose any sleep.
What we were supposed to be fighting for in this whole womens lib thing was decency, choice and understanding, not permission to bully. Ultimately, it was also meant to be a gender-free movement as well. Women could be dockworkers or police officers if they could hold their own, and if men wanted to be househusbands or kindergarten teachers, no one was supposed to raise a brow.
But then the radicals and extremists somehow snatched center stage and gave everyone indigestion, that burning sensation. They even twisted purposes so that they could have the right to be bad, to murder unborn children, to maliciously manipulate the system whenever the mood struck.
Thats not liberation; thats convenient, conniving coercion.
Some of these gals have gone wild, and its time the rest of us, the ones with at least a shred of sense remaining, take out our verbal drivers and knock them off their course.
(Mindy Jeffers is a Martinez resident.)
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