Thomas Beatie is a pregnant transgendered person who is legally recognized by the state of Oregon as a man. Ten years ago he underwent reassignment but decided to keep his female reproductive organs in case he ever wanted to have a child. Two years ago he stopped taking his testosterone and later with the help of his wife, underwent artificial insemination. According to his gynecologist, his pregnancy is a perfectly normal one. And why shouldn’t it be? He’s a woman. Genetically he is a female. No matter what a person does, the genes they are born with can’t be altered, and he is as XX as I am. So when he told Oprah that his being pregnant is a miracle, I have to respectfully disagree. It’s no more a miracle then any other women’s pregnancy regardless of the means or degree of difficulty, but it’s unsurprising that the press and pop culture media have jumped all over this farce. The world is so devoid of true miracles that it is willing to have one manufactured for it. Mr. Beatie is not technically a man but a woman, and women get pregnant. At best it’s a bit weird, but a miracle? I don’t think so.
I added a blog link not long ago called A Blondie Moment. I found it on another blog I have linked here and found it interesting because the young woman was studying pole dancing. Yes, I know what you are thinking. Isn’t that just another way of saying “stripper”. Well, okay – maybe. And aren’t you against the sexual exploitation of women. Yes, I am – and you’re point is? Pole dancing is interesting to me the same way belly dancing is interesting. It is more than just sex. There is strength in it. These are not things you can do simply because you are female and can undress or dance. Rob and I saw a belly dancer at this little Greek restaurant over in Sherwood Park before my birthday last year. She was an amazing dancer. I can’t even begin to imagine how long it would take to develop that kind of muscle control. I started yoga at the beginning of the year and am only just now starting to feel flexible again. And I was flexible once back in my Tae Kwon Do/Kick Boxing days, but nothing near what a belly dancer can do and certainly not the kind of serious muscle tone, strength and agility of a pole dancer. Blondie’s blog is worth a peek. Another good one is Overheard Around New York, which are actual conversations that people in the Big Apple have had in earshot of others. If you are missing the 70’s at all, there is Diary of a 70’sTeen. The posts are short but usually there is some gem of yore to marvel over. And finally, if you are big baseball fan the season has begun and Gil Meche is all over it.
Not exactly a sign of the coming Apocalypse but a disturbing portent that the universe is out of balance none the less, Mariah Carey has surpassed Elvis on the Billboard Charts for most #1’s with 18 to her credit. This puts her behind only the Beatles. The song that put her over the top is Touch My Body. A melody sure to go down in pop/rock history. The thing that puts this over the top, for me, is her humility concerning this great feat of hers. “Carey said being in such company was gratifying not only because of her personal success, but what it meant for women and minorities.” And what would that be? Exactly? That songs about sex sung while wearing little but underwear will earn them a place in music history too? I am not going to say that the Beatles wrote only memorable tunes that survived the test of time. They didn’t. Or that Elvis didn’t degenerate into a parody of himself in the Vegas years. He did. But why is that women who write and perform – in any genre – have to be naked or nearly so in order to do what men do (worse a lot of the time) with their clothes on? Not ironically the same article also mentions that Madonna had also recently surpassed Elvis for the most top ten hits with her tune, 4 Minutes. It’s about saving the world, I think. Perhaps I was wrong about the Apocalypse thing.
