Tag Archive for: Michelle Obama

A Few Words on Michelle (and you know who I’m talking about)

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This week, New York magazine dedicated several pages—and its cover—to our new First Lady, Michelle Obama. Very famous writers were charged with trying to find the reason she has gone from almost-reviled to now-revered. Remember the “this is the first time in my adult life that I’ve been proud of my country” comment and the ire it inspired? Or the fist bump? (Something I do with my kids for every good grade; if they knew of its radical connotations, they would probably be fist-bumping me every chance they got. Or getting straight A’s every semester.)

What is it that has caused this transformation in the public’s opinion? I, of course, have a theory or two.

She’s a mother with two small children: Many took issue with the fact that this woman was calling herself “Mom-in-Chief.” Me? I have no problem with that. The family does have two children. With a high-profile father—probably the highest-profile father—and the demands that go along with living in the White House, I respect a woman who would acknowledge that despite the Presidency and all its trappings, there are children to raise. Children who deserve a normal childhood. Children who need to go to school, participate in after-school activities, do homework, practice their instruments and most importantly, play. Michelle Obama recognizes this and seems to be doing her best, including asking her mother along for the ride, to make these things happen for them.

She seems to dig her husband—a lot: I like having a couple in the White House who genuinely seem to like—even dig—one another. Of course Ron and Nancy Reagan were madly in love for all those years but they were so much older than I was when he was in office that they seemed like my grandparents. I couldn’t relate. Hillary and Bill? Should I even go there? And George and Barbara Bush? More grandparents. W and Laura seemed to have a good thing going but not in any kind of relatable way. The Obamas are a different breed of married compared to the last four First Couples. There was that romantic dance to Etta James’ “At Last” at the inauguration ball, and of course, the aforementioned fist bump, a romantic gesture in context. They don’t do the public displays of affection of the googly-eyes, but you can just tell. She speaks of his bad morning breath and the fact that he’s not so good about picking up after himself, but the way she talks about it is in the most affectionate way. I’m sure in the privacy of the East Wing or the Lincoln Bedroom she might not be so circumspect or accepting of his flaws, but when she speaks of him in public, she makes it seem like his habits are endearing. (And we all know that they ARE NOT. Even if he is the damn President.)She’s tall—I love a tall girl. I’m five foot eight and she’s got at least three inches on me. That’s tall. And she wears heels. That’s what tells me she’s comfortable with her tallness. Gone are the days of the petite flower—the Jackie Kennedy’s and Nancy Reagans. We’ve got a woman who is tall, curvy, and looks like she actually likes to eat. Gotta love that.

Basically, she’s just like us. And that’s what I think many of us are responding to. Although she doesn’t have to worry about what to make for dinner anymore, she still rides her kids about making their own beds and eating their vegetables. And she shops retail, mostly; an outfit that caused a stir was one she wore on David Letterman and which she had bought at J. Crew. She’s concerned about military families and literacy and all of the things that we should all be concerned about.

And she’s got great arms. We know that. But to get those great arms, she has to get up at 5:30 to work out with her husband. That’s where I draw the line.

Maggie Barbieri

What are your thoughts on our new First Lady?

Got Health?

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I would have voted for him even had I known he was in a wheelchair. But when deciding whether to return FDR to the White House for an unprecedented fourth term, would I have wanted to know that he had high blood pressure, long-term heart disease, and was likely, according to a doctor at the time, to “die of a cerebral hemorrhage within six months” of his election? Of course.

The Party elders, understanding that Roosevelt was sick (but not sharing that information with the public) insisted that he replace Vice President Henry Wallace, who was feared to be too pro-Soviet, with a little-known hat-making Senator from Missouri, Harry Truman.

I don’t know why releasing complete, current medical records, if you’re running for President or Vice President of the United States, is optional. If you want to go to kindergarten or college; if you enlist in the military or want to be a professional pilot, you are required to undergo a physical exam and submit the results to the appropriate authorities. Why do we demand less of the candidates for the highest offices in our nation?

Senator McCain did release some of his records, but under such stringent circumstances that it was difficult for medical professionals to interpret them. Senator Obama had his doctor release a one-page, undated letter that declares he’s healthy. Senator Biden released a limited version of his records, but no information on whether there has been follow-up testing to the aneurysm surgery of 20 years ago.

And then we have Governor Palin who until yesterday refused to release any health records at all. No explanation had been given for her decision, except that a spokesman for the McCain-Palin campaign declared that the media has been “unfair” to the Governor, therefore they wouldn’t release the files. Which is the moral equivalent of a “nyah, nyah, nyah, you can’t make me” response. A reasonable approach if you’re in preschool, but scarcely what we expect of our elected leaders.

Frankly, the failure to release the records only opens the door to intense speculation about what she is trying to hide (which may be nothing at all). The conspiracy theories are likely worse than the truth. Mostly it reflects poorly on her concept of being a passenger on the Straight Talk Express. Late yesterday, she declared that she would release her medical records, but we have yet to see them or see how complete they are.

I understand that everyone is entitled to privacy and that health records are extremely personal. I don’t have a right to know the intimate details of Michelle Obama, Jill Biden, Cindy McCain and Todd Palin’s medical histories. They are not running for office. But the top four candidates – I do think there is a valid reason for full disclosure.

I believe that all Presidential and Vice Presidential candidates need to be forthcoming about their medical histories. I don’t need to know if they have been treated for strep throat or what allergies they have or even if someone has an enlarged prostate (presuming it’s a benign condition). I do think that an evaluation of the candidates’ health records by an independent medical professional would ensure that no medical problems have been hidden or downplayed. The stakes are too high not to have all the information each of us needs before we cast our votes.

Evelyn David

In Training

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So, after all my protestations, excuses, crying, whining, and the like, I just had my second training session with my friend, S., the personal trainer. You remember her—the one who told me that in order to lose those extra five (ten?) pounds that I’ve been wailing about incessantly, I should cut out the Chardonnay, some carbs, most of the sugar, and a host of life’s other delights. After which I banned her from my house. We have since made up (how could we not? She is without a doubt one of the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever met) and began training last week.

And now for the most surprising part: I like it.

I am as surprised as you are. Because let’s face it: I would rather sit at my desk and write , talk on the phone, and surf the Web all day than go outside to pick up the mail. I would rather have root canal, really. Talk about taking me on a two mile walk or leading me in a spirited session of a hundred crunches and I’m heading for the hills.

But all this stuff that I previously thought was gobbedly-gook like the “high” you get from exercising and the “sense of satisfaction” is all true, by golly. S., the most enthusiastic and invigorating of personal trainers, has gotten me moving again and it feels good. She checks in periodically after our work outs to find out how I’m feeling. The truth? After yesterday’s session in which she had me making sweet love to a five-pound medicine ball, I couldn’t raise my arms to cut my son’s ham sandwich. But, in her inimitably positive way, she assured me that that was “GOOD!” Because everything S. says when it comes to training is in ALL CAPS and delivered with much enthusiasm. Why? Because she has about ten training sessions per week, so she is on a constant high from all those endorphins flowing through her veins. And you can bounce a quarter off of her abdominal muscles; who wouldn’t be happy about that?

She called to check on me again this morning. I was still feeling pretty good—actually, pretty smug—about my state of being. But the muscle soreness has increased in the last several hours. Some of these muscles haven’t been worked since we played the fake Olympics in my childhood home’s backyard in 1976, so I can see why they’re protesting. But all of that soreness means that in three months time, if I keep S. in my life as a trainer and not just as a friend, those muscles may make a reappearance. And I may just look a little bit more like S. and a little less like Ernest Borgnine in “Marty.” And that is all good.

I don’t think I would have begun this training regimen had I not been bombarded with constant images of Michelle Obama in sleeveless dresses and blouses waving at the adoring voters who visit her husband’s rallies. Because the difference between me and Michelle Obama—besides the fact that my husband is not a Presidential candidate and I’m not a five foot ten gorgeous lawyer—is that when I stop waving, my arms don’t. There is a little bushel of fat right in the underarm area that says “But wait! We’re not done waving yet!” That doesn’t happen to Michelle Obama. When she stops waving, she just stops waving. Everything ceases moving. And that’s my goal.

S. is an amazing cheerleader. Yesterday, our session seemed to last ten minutes when in actuality, it was an hour. We exercised while talking about our sons (who are very good friends), our weekend, our week to come, and our love of Target. All the while, S. was telling me that I could do it, I was doing a great job, and that I only had another fifty crunches to go. (I know! If anyone makes me laugh or god forbid I have to sneeze, I’ll have to take a pain killer. And change my underwear.)

I don’t want any more junk in the trunk, I don’t want fries with my “shake,” I don’t want a “muffin top” to spill out over the waistband of my jeans. I don’t delude myself that my nearly 45-year-old body will resemble the one that I had twenty years ago but I think there’s still time to make some minor adjustments, a couple of improvements. If S. and her killer abs are any indication of what awaits me, I’m in.

Stay tuned. I might still be on that endorphin high.

The Week in Review

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I’m leaving for San Francisco on Saturday and for all of you West-Coasters/Bay Area denizens, please stop by M Is for Mystery in San Mateo, on Sunday, June 29th, at 2:00. I’ll be signing, reading, chatting, and having a great time talking about my second Alison Bergeron mystery, “Extracurricular Activities.” I hope to see you!I’ve been in that frantic pre-trip frenzy, getting ready to leave for a week. I’m leaving the computer at home and am wondering just exactly how I’ll stay in touch with the world. But whatever—I’ll be in San Francisco, the city that ranks right behind my hometown, New York City, as the best in the world. (And, oh yeah, Paris. And of course, Miami…I’m fickle.)

But in the midst of all this preparation, I’ve been thinking about the past week and had a few thoughts on a couple of topics/people. Ready? I thought so.

1. The death of George Carlin: OK, God, you took Russert, and now Carlin. I can’t even imagine who’s next and am not going to name names in case it gives you any ideas. You’ve got the smart guy, and now the funny/smart guy. No more. And by the way, I’m sure you have access to YouTube up in heaven; couldn’t you have contented yourself with watching old bits from Carlin and left him with us for another twenty years? Favorite bits: STUFF (your house is just a big receptacle for all of your STUFF); driving (why is the guy going slower than you a moron and the guy going faster than you a maniac?); intelligence (think about the average American and then remember that half of the population is dumber than that). That’s all I can think of for now and of course, I’ve taken literary license. We’ll miss you, George. Hope you got to meet Joe.

2. And speaking of Russert: Tom Brokaw subbed on “Meet the Press” this week and it sounds like he will be the guy until the election (and hopefully after). We needed Brokaw back. I’m just sorry it came about the way it did but his presence on television can only be considered a positive.

3. Michelle Obama: I never watch “The View” (I’m working, people!). But I took time out last week to watch her just to get a sense if all of those maniacal talking heads who have branded her a militant (the way that word is used…in the words of the Northern half of Evelyn David: Oy!), caustic, rigid, fist-bumping terrorist were right. Not only were they wrong, they now look like fools. She was warm, gracious, real, and unpracticed (or maybe that’s just my gullibility showing). She’s got a husband who she’s crazy about, despite the fact that she initially did not want him to run for president. She’s got two adorable daughters. And that dress she had on? Perfection. If I had a muscle in my upper arms, I would go out and buy it. Never did a $119 dress look so perfect. Go, Michelle.

4. Cindy McCain: Beer heiress Cindy showed her humanitarian side last week. And I liked it. Who’s with me that the women are going to outshine the men in this election? One can only hope…

5. Following your dream versus getting a job: A friend read my post called “Perception versus Reality” a few weeks back and then attended her son’s college graduation. The speaker was a young broadcast journalist who we all know who implored students to “follow their dreams.” My friend, who’s had enough of dream following to last a lifetime, reflected on my post and wrote me to chat about it. Very gratifying. But it got me thinking: what happened to that idealistic college grad that I was back in 1800? I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not a dream killer, I just think you should have a job while pursuing your dream. Spoken like a mother, right? I’ve sold out. I’m THE MAN. I’m BIG TOBACCO. I’m THE ESTABLISHMENT. When did that happen?

And on a strictly personal note, thank you to all of you who read and comment on these blogs. I was talking to a fourth-grader the other night who told me that her dream is to be a writer and she asked me what it takes. While I said,“write every day,” her mother chimed in with “read everything you can get your hands on.” Those are the two main keys, certainly. And by allowing me to blog every week about any variety of topics, my writing has become clearer, sharper, and more focused. I’m writing more than I’m reading, admittedly, and that’s fine. I’m building up those Stephen King “writing muscles.”

I’ll catch you up on my trip when I return. Now I’m going to try to tackle packing a week’s worth of clothing into a carry-on bag. Wish me luck!

Maggie