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Archive for December, 2010

Grandma Jane Meets Oprah – Part II: Score One for Ageism

Sunday, December 26th, 2010

This post, a continuation of Jane Fonda’s recent appearance on Oprah, was also inspired by a recent happening in my own life.  A few days ago, I wrote an essay about writing that included this phrase:  “As my 41-year-old daughter pointed out…” Two early readers–one a man in his sixties, the other a woman in her late forties–thought I should I take it out. Whether they realized it or not, they were suggesting a kind of psychological airbrushing to make it less obvious that I am not young. (more…)

Grandma Jane Meets Oprah, Part I: “Growing Up Every Day”

Thursday, December 23rd, 2010

Oprah hosted Jane Fonda today–what a pair.  Jane, ever the chameleon has run through Barbarella, Hanoi Jane, Jane the serial wife, workout Jane, and now introducing….Grandma Jane.   And then there’s Oprah, who is one of the most visible and powerful woman on the cultural landscape.  She has few peers; Jane is one of them.

But this post is about Grandma Jane (although I don’t think she’s called “Grandma”)–Jane in a new phase of life.  I, who went kicking and screaming into this phase, can relate.  It’s a time that comes too soon, a passage, if you will, that whispers in your ear, “No matter what you see in the mirror, you’re the older generation now.”   But, at the same time, it’s also a time that brings unparalleled moments of love and delight. (more…)

Elizabeth Edwards’ Secret Weapon

Wednesday, December 8th, 2010

Elizabeth Edwards walked that fine feminist line between being a generous, caring, supportive individual and, at the same time, not taking s – – t from anyone.   She had a secret weapon–better yet, a suit of armor.  I met her at a book-signing of Saving Graces, which came out in 2006 when I was researching my book. Her subtitle–Finding Solace and Strength from Friends and Strangers–says it all.  This was a woman who cried with a stranger she met in a ladies’ room, who appreciated the checkout guy and the mailman, who shared her grief with strangers on the Internet.  In short, she appreciated, depended upon, and sought out the empathy of others.   Even more important, she knew how vital it was to return the favor.   The September evening  I met her,  I had arranged a brief hello with her publicist, explaining that I wanted to interview her because, whether she had used the term or not, her book was mostly about consequential strangers.  I was first to approach the podium after her talk.

I stood there at first as a journalist and had planned to tell her a little about my project.  But as I handed her a book to sign, I blurted out that my family had just suffered a terrible tragedy.  My great nephew, my sister’s first grandson, had drowned in her pool. At 14, he was already an amazing and versatile athlete, so no one realized he was in trouble.  (Later, we would learn he had a heart condition and that no one could have saved him anyway.) I told her I wanted to give her book to his parents. “So could you please inscribe it to Heidi and Louis?”

“”Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.  When did this happen?” she asked, acting as if no one else was in the room.  It wasn’t fake empathy.   In that moment, I could feel–and her eyes confirmed–that she truly cared and felt my pain. (more…)