January 07, 2004



It isn't snowing yet, but if you threw a can of seltzer out the window of a cab it would be snowflakes before it hit the ground. So, let me ask the parents of Lower Manhattan, IS IT THAT HARD TO PUT SOME FUCKING MITTENS ON YOUR CHILD? Saw not one, not two, but THREE different kids wailing this morning from frost-pain as their minders (organic and paid, both) pushed them heedlessly through the Nazgul-style winds. (I put a check on my postal Garp tendencies a few weeks ago and did NOT tell you about the woman I saw pushing a stroller through a red light while yelling on her cell. I also didn't tell you about the D'Agostino's delivery person I saw catching a cab on Third Avenue. I was a messenger for three years and unless D'Ag is paying some new kinda wage, you are going to cut into that nest egg if you take cabs with bags.)

So, Keith Harris is probably thinking of people like me when he attacks the "You wouldn't say that if you had kids" defense. He'd only be half-right, though: Having kids makes it clear why the saftey of children is an obsession right now in popular culture. (Watching two minutes of TV and reading the newspaper for twelve seconds will make it even clearer.) But there's no excuse for bad movies about children in peril. I am sort of glad nobody gets this right in movies, because it would be unwatchable if someone did. (The Sweet Hereafter got close but wasn't a patch on the book, which put me under a rock for a week and I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE KIDS THEN.) I can't even see Bad Santa because Thornton apparently yells at "a vulnerable child," so listen to me only through the appropriate filters.

Posted by Sasha at January 7, 2004 09:53 AM | TrackBack