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If you, like me, frequent the “internets,” it’s likely you’ve seen or read about the controversial “high fructose corn syrup” commercials (paid for by the Corn Refiners Association, of course) that egregiously endorse consuming the one thing in this country that has contributed most to childhood obesity and late-onset diabetes.
What gets to me most about these infomercials is not so much the idiocy of their message — namely, the “sweet surprise” of HFCS is that it’s good for you! – but the strange use of race in delivering it. A conscientious yet naive white woman rejects the purple drink that her black counterpart liberally pours into cups bound for the children around them. “You don’t care what the kids eat, huh?” asks sarcastic and morally shocked white mom, as she stares disapprovingly at irresponsible black mom. But of course, the Corn Refiners Association knows better and ends the commercial by positioning black mom as the more informed and enlightened one, which in my mind immediately invokes some watered down version of the archetype of the Magical Negro. (OK, so maybe I’m stretching it here, but still I’m a firm believer that these race archetypes persist even in the most nuanced of ways). White mom is stereotyped too — her rather plain hairstyle and outfit clash with black mom’s more “colorful” ensemble. By the end of the ad, both moms are friends again, small-talk, HFCS and all (with dull white mom even dishing out compliments out of some sort of, um, white guilt?) But I digress. See for yourself:
Of course, a far more incisive look at the juice wars can be found here:
In July, I shared with you Bump’s favorite YouTube video. Well, he has a new one, which I have to say is quite addictive. This is so going on my workout play-list. Happy chair-dancing:
- Artist: Of Montreal (they’re actually of Athens)
- Song: “Wraith Pinned to the Mist (And Other Games)”
- LP: The Sunlandic Twins (Polyvinyl 2005)
Bump’s absolutely most favorite thing evah (right now) is this video. Mr. G thinks it might actually be Madonna singing. I’ll let you decide:
The bongo drums in the middle of the song are actually quite catchy . . .
I grew up in L.A. Really, I did. My mother being the huge sports fan that she still is, Vin Scully and Chick Hearn made up the soundtrack of my life for a good ten years. I grew up going to Dodger games in the summer, Bruin games in the winter, and Laker games in the spring. My mother even has pictures of my preadolescent brother and I hugging Kareem Abdul Jabbar’s knees before a game in the L.A. Forum. Magic Johnson once called me “baby” (“scuze me, baby” were his exact words to me as I stood slightly in his way upon entering the post-game private club house. How my mom scored those tickets I will never know). Once I even sat a few rows behind Michael Jackson during a Laker game. (This was during the Thriller era, so needless to say MJ was the man then). All this is to say that during the 1980s the L.A. Lakers meant as much, if not more to me than MTV, Atari, and John Hughes films.
Then I met my husband. He grew up on the East Coast. He spent his formative years in Boston. His childhood hero is Yaz from the Red Sox, a team rivaled only by the Celtics in his heart of sporting goodness. We met in 2001 just after the Lakers won the Championship, and just before they did it again the next year. We fell in love talking about hoops. I’ll never forget what the cable guy said to me when I told him about our divided NBA loyalties. “There’s no love in this house,” he said while installing our NBA League Pass.
Fast forward six years and you’ll find Mr. G and I carefully holding our tongues (and shouts of utter joy) as our teams face off in the finals. Those of you in the know understand that this rivalry is bigger than us. Yes folks, we be making history. And this year the sweetness of victory and the sting of defeat are especially strong as Mr. G and I are firmly on opposite sides of the fence (or actually, couch). I even flew the fam to California a week ago so that I could surround myself with Laker Love. Seriously, it is so cool to hate L.A. where I live; I swear that Laker fans are on some sort of endangered species list up here.
So where do we stand at the moment? Well, from my end of the couch, things do not look good. The Celtics are up 3-2 and the last two games are in Boston. What is an adoring wife to do? Ever the pessimist, I’m 99% certain my boys in the purple and gold will go down in Bean Town. So do I swallow my California pride and stand by my man, content in the memory of the now famous Laker “three-peat” of the very recent past? That seems the honorable thing to do here. I was prepared to do just that, but then the Lakers went and won Game Five in L.A. and it revved up my competitive engine. I know there are more important things in the world to think about these days, but this rivalry has me all tied up inside.
It doesn’t help that my one and only Celeb Crush had to show up in L.A. basking in his Celtic pride.
Now. I’m. Really. Torn.
That’s the name of my avatar on Second Life. As you can tell by the latest snapshot, Meena’s been networking with politicos:
Click the image to get the full effect. In SL, it’s all about the full effect. I’m pathetic (see earlier post about list of goals.)
