caerula's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- entitled my ass There are lots of major issues to worry about right now. Terrorism and the economy and our country being run by a freaking warmongering moron. So, of course, I�m going to subject you to my ruminations on � @merican !dol. Hey, when Buffy�s a rerun, what a girl to do? Here�s the thing: entertaining as it is, (Warning: watch for falling rants.) much of it is annoying as hell. And it�s not Simon (I adore Simon) nor is it really the bad singers. It�s the attitude of so many of the contestants. People think it�s funny to watch people with no talent proclaim how wonderful they are. I think it�s fairly sad, actually. The entire audition process can be summed up by the girl who came out of her run-in with Simon saying �that�s the first time anyone in my whole life has ever said I�m not good enough.� Or something like that, I can�t remember exactly. But that was the moment I looked at Blue and said, �and THIS is what is wrong with these kids, and the entire freaking country.� Entitlement. I exist, therefore, I am wonderful and the world owes me a shot. The world owes you nothing, honey. You walk around and take up space and produce waste products and use oxygen. You owe the world. You do something worthwhile, you make it a better place somehow, in some little way, to justify your continued existence on this planet and then we�ll talk. I think this attitude is epidemic. And I hesitate to say among young people, because I�m not my dad, but it certainly seems to be getting worse. Self-confidence, external validation, family support � all wonderful things. However, instilling your child with a sense of self-worth and leading her to believe that everything she does is perfect and everyone will love her just for being her are NOT the same things. And neither does having a sucky life mean that anyone owes you anything. In a perfect world, sure. But, um, we have to live in this one. There was the girl tonight who got cut at the end, crying �I don�t want to go back to school! I hate school!� Gee, I�m sorry, wrong answer. I mean, did she really think she was going to win and drop out of eleventh grade � I don�t know, maybe she was in college � and never have to go home? I�m not talking just about the !dol wannabes here. I think some of them are truly talented and hard-working and deserving (go Frenchie! You rule!) and some of them knew they sucked and wanted to get on television � which I don�t understand, but I�m just going to take as a given. But part of growing up is knowing when there is more valor in retreat, and this batch of 16-24 year old shiny people need to learn that lesson badly. When to persevere and when it�s ok to give up and move on. That�s why I like Simon. He�s harsh, but some of those people really need to listen when he says �go do something else.� They don�t, though. They tell him he doesn�t know anything, that they�re going to be STARS, baby. You'll see their names in lights. No matter what anyone thinks. Except that what anyone thinks is what makes you a star in the first place. Someone besides you, and your mommy, has to believe in your talent. Ok, say you love, more than anything in the world, waiting tables. I�m not saying you do, just indulge me for a minute. You never wanted to do anything but wait tables; you�ve been dreaming of it your entire life. Your parents used to let you pretend to take orders and serve dinner, and they told you constantly that you were just amazing, amazing! at it. The best ever. Then you�re 17, or 19, or 23, and the Wait Staff Olympics comes to town (humor me here). You KNOW you are destined � DESTINED � to be the Wait Staff Olympics champion. It�s what you were born to do. But, wait. It turns out that at the Wait Staff Olympics there are some really, really excellent people waiting tables. They�ve worked hard and sacrificed and practiced, practiced, practiced. But, that doesn�t matter! You�re a star! This is your destiny. Except, oops. It turns out that sadly, your parents were no judge of wait staff talent, and you actually are really, really bad at waiting tables. You spill wine on people, and flamb� their hair. You drop trays and trip and forget orders. And you lose. And someone who is harsh but honest tells you that you should really try finding something else you�re good at. What do you do? Well, if you have any common sense, any innate sense of self-respect and a realistic outlook, you get sad, and upset, and then you come around and realize probably you just weren�t cut out for it. Maybe you should develop some other interests. But, if you're like, oh, three-fourths of the people I�ve seen on television the last couple of weeks, the moment you walk out of the room, you forget everything that you sucked at and only remember how MEAN that judge was. MEAN. He hates you. You don�t know why, maybe he�s jealous. Maybe he�s stupid. Maybe he�s an asshole. Because it couldn�t be you, right? You�re wonderful! Everyone has always told you so! No one has ever discouraged you in anything! Blah. Get a grip. Life sucks. Doesn�t mean you can�t cry and wail and curse. Everyone should do that once in a while and get it out of their systems. What you can�t do is change into something you�re just not, or be great at something you are just inherently bad at. And you ought to have enough sense to be able to tell when you are good at something and when you really just aren't. Back to the !dol example. I�m a bad singer. Really bad. I can�t carry a tune in the proverbial paper bag. And I know this about myself. It�s one of the things that I�ve always included in the �if I could change one thing...� game, because I love music. I love singing along really loudly to show tunes, and country, and old girl groups. I love the image of me up on a stage starring in a musical. But in high school I was always relegated to the chorus, and for good reason. I�m well aware of my limitations. I envy those with a sense of rhythm and harmony. Couldn�t do it to save my life. And this is why I only sing in the car. I would never dream of going on tv and trying to convince everyone that I think I�m the next Diva. I don�t even sing along to the radio in front of my husband, because I don�t really want to make his ears bleed. And some of those people up there? Worse then me. And when I said that to Blue tonight, he said �wow, that is bad� � so you know it�s serious. But somehow, through some combination of blind stupidity, determination, and short-term memory loss, some people will never be convinced that they aren�t the next big thing. And since they are the next big thing, born to be a Superstah! they don�t have to follow the rules. Practice? Please. Be serious? Concentrate? Show respect for others and a sense of common decency and, God forbid, some common sense? That�s for, like, losers, dude. I�m gonna go out and kick ass because I rock and the world will love me because everyone my whole life has loved me and mommy and daddy would never ever lie to me, so it must be true, right? Right? We�d do our kids a much greater service to teach them that yup, they are special, just like everyone else. To push the boundaries to the limit, to give it everything you have, and to work hard and persevere and don�t step on anyone on the way up that you might need to lend you a hand on the way back down. And no one wants to destroy dreams (okay, except Simon, maybe), but sometimes people work and work and work and do everything they are supposed to do, but it just wasn�t meant to be. Do your best, and recognize your limitations. Find the thing you do shine at and work at that. Excel. Don�t chase empty promises and false hopes that offer you nothing but heartbreak and Ramen noodles for supper. Give yourself some credit, but give everyone else some, too. EARN your continued existence. Don�t assume everyone loves you and that there�s something wrong with them if they don�t. Deal with the reality, and major craptastic suckiness, that sometimes is life. Then move on. I think my point sort of got lost in my rant here, because I am SO annoyed about this. I�m not sure why. But �I�m entitled� attitudes have always gotten me het up, from the kids in junior high who went to Disneyland at Christmas break and rubbed it in, to the kids suing U-M because they didn�t get in to the most overrated public university in the country. To GW, who gets to be president because his daddy was too, and his daughters, who don�t have to obey the law, let along play by the rules. I�m entitled. I deserve it. I�m pretty, so the world owes me something. I�m rich, so I get to tell you what to do. I�m a genius, I�m talented, I had an underprivileged childhood, so the world owes me. The world doesn�t owe you a shiny nickel. You owe US. Grow up. [End rant. Remove helmets and enjoy the rest of your trip.] 12:42 a.m. - January 30, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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