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April 16, 2007
mixing metaphors
Miss Courtney, possibly the most guileless person I've ever met, is presently having a blowout fight with her parents. Mom and Dad started an emotional brawl that they cannot win. They disapprove of her equally sweet, guileless boyfriend. Until he is white, she is not welcome at their home, not even for holidays. They have declared all-out war on their daughter. This upsets her, but she does not allow their crass manipulations to affect more than her emotions.
A grizzled veteran of familial wars, I've lent what moral support I can. "The dynamic you establish here will determine the course of your relationship with your parents for rest of your life," I caution. "You cannot afford to cave, especially when they're so out of line."
Mind you, Courtney is a Disney character without the fur. She lets bugs outside instead of squooshing them. Rushing with sword brandished to a fight is not exactly in her nature. Yet so far, so good. When the cause was just, she stepped up and fought. I'm proud of her.
Obviously, this recent college grad isn't getting the normal sorts of help from her parents as she starts out. So whenever I'm upgrading something around the house, I offer her the old model. She usually accepts. So was it with my old Kitchen Aid mixer.
As I chipped off year-old pizza dough in preparation for giving the mixer to Court, I reflected on where the mixer originated. On the day that was supposed to be my wedding day, friends took me shopping. The exercise was both practical and cynical. I bought all the things, a mixer included, that I might have expected to get as wedding gifts. To those friends I am indebted, 'cause that day surely would have sucked bilgewater without their thoughtful interference.
As I chipped, I reflected on the irony. I never would have bought that mixer were it not for one woman's capitulation to crass parental manipulations. And now it was going to her exact opposite. Given essentially the same "him or us" choice that Fucking Amy had, Courtney did not throw her beau under the bus. Instead, she took the path of greatest resistance and defended her relationship and, notably, herself.
It pleased me enormously to bequeath a symbol of one woman's lack of moral courage to someone who has it in abundance.
posted by john at 7:40 AM • permalink