EEK! A MALE!!

By LENORE SKENAZY

Last week, the lieutenant governor of Massachusetts, Timothy Murray, noticed smoke coming out of a minivan in his hometown of Worcester. He raced over and pulled out two small children, moments before the van's tire exploded into flames. At which point, according to the AP account, the kids' grandmother, who had been driving, nearly punched our hero in the face.

Why?

Mr. Murray said she told him she thought he might be a kidnapper.

And so it goes these days, when almost any man who has anything to do with a child can find himself suspected of being a creep. I call it "Worst-First" thinking: Gripped by pedophile panic, we jump to the very worst, even least likely, conclusion first. Then we congratulate ourselves for being so vigilant.

Consider the Iowa daycare center where Nichole Adkins works. The one male aide employed there, she told me in an interview, is not allowed to change diapers. "In fact," Ms. Adkins said, "he has been asked to leave the classroom when diapering was happening."

Now, a guy turned on by diaper changes has got to be even rarer than a guy turned on by Sponge Bob. But "Worst-First" thinking means suspecting the motives of any man who chooses to work around kids.

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Maybe the daycare center felt it had to be extra cautious, to avoid lawsuits. But regular folk are suspicious, too. Last February, a woman followed a man around at a store berating him for clutching a pile of girls' panties. "I can't believe this! You're disgusting. This is a public place, you pervert!" she said—until the guy, who posted about the episode on a website, fished out his ID. He was a clerk restocking the underwear department.

Given the level of distrust, is it any wonder that, as the London Telegraph reported last month, the British Musicians' Union warned its members they are no longer to touch a child's fingers, even to position them correctly on the keys? Or that a public pool in Sydney, Australia last fall prohibited boys from changing in the same locker room as the men? (According to the Daily Telegraph in Sydney, the men demanded this, fearing false accusations.)

What's really ironic about all this emphasis on perverts is that it's making us think like them. Remember the story that broke right before Christmas? The FBI warned law-enforcement agencies that the new Video Barbie could be used to make kiddie porn. The warning was not intended for the public but it leaked out. TV news celebrated the joy of the season by telling parents that any man nice enough to play dolls with their daughters could really be videotaping "under their little skirts!" as one Fox News reporter said.

This queasy climate is making men think twice about things they used to do unselfconsciously. A friend of mine, Eric Kozak, was working for a while as a courier. Driving around an unfamiliar neighborhood, he says, "I got lost. I saw a couple kids by the side of the road and rolled down my window to ask, 'Where is such-and-such road?' They ran off screaming."

Another dad told me about taking his three-year-old to play football in the local park, where he'd help organize the slightly older kids into a game. Over time, one of the kids started to look up to him. "He wanted to stand close to me, wanted approval, Dad stuff, I guess. And because of this whole 'stranger danger' mentality, I could sense this sort of wary disapproval from the few other parents at the playground. So I just stopped going."

And that's not the worst. In England in 2006, BBC News reported the story of a bricklayer who spotted a toddler at the side of the road. As he later testified at a hearing, he didn't stop to help for fear he'd be accused of trying to abduct her. You know: A man driving around with a little girl in his car? She ended up at a pond and drowned.

We think we're protecting our kids by treating all men as potential predators. But that's not a society that's safe. Just sick.

Ms. Skenazy is a public speaker and author of the blog and book, "Free-Range Kids" (Wiley, 2010).

18 January 2011
By on 17:08
An open letter to Facebook


O P E N   L E T T E R S
T O   P E O P L E   O R   E N T I T I E S
W H O   A R E   U N L I K E L Y
T O   R E S P O N D .

Dear Facebook,

Thank you for your recent suggestion that I "reconnect" with Hamish Howard. Unfortunately, I will not be using Facebook to reconnect with him in the near future. Please allow me to outline the reasons for this below.

It may be useful for me to provide some background context to the situation.

Hamish Howard is my boyfriend. We have been together for a little over three years. Being 25 and notoriously single before meeting Hamish, this is a rather large deal for me. Some say that with such history, we should perhaps consider getting married. Others suggest that the term "boyfriend" is no longer appropriate, and that I should actually be referring to him as my "partner". Either way, he is the man I love, the one for me, my other half, etc. I would hate for you to think that because we haven’t declared our love for each other on Facebook by updating our status to "In a Relationship" that we are not serious.

We are Facebook friends simply because it would seem strange if we weren’t. We have 84 friends in common. We do not regularly communicate on Facebook, because up until approximately three months ago, we lived together. We slept together. We went for meals, we talked on the phone, we sent text messages and if I was really lucky, he would walk me to work holding my hand.

Hamish recently finished his Science degree majoring in marine biology. He decided after years of student poverty, and wanting to experience the fishing industry first hand, he would take a job on the deep sea fishing boats. He is currently in the South Pacific Ocean, just out of New Zealand. He is away at sea for six weeks at a time. Throughout this period, he works in shifts of six hours on, six hours off. He constantly smells of fish, and yes, he does get seasick.

Moreover, to be honest, deep down, I would love to reconnect with him. I long to reconnect with him. I miss him terribly. My boyfriend is a fisherman! I do try and keep these feelings under wraps for the majority of my existence without him, and you Facebook, are simply not helping.

Whilst I appreciate Facebook’s concern that Hamish and I are no longer living in the same house, or even the same city, I have to be frank when I say that the constant encouragement to "reconnect" just comes across as a cruel joke.

I also appreciate that Facebook has picked up on the fact that he is away on a big adventure, but by reminding people like my smug soon-to-be-married sister that they too should reconnect with him, it just rubs salt in my wounds.

I would therefore suggest, moving forward, that you cease your incessant suggestions and leave me to wallow, lonely and in peace.

Kind regards,
Delaney Mes

25 January 2010
By on 18:21
Reactie op Wim de Bie in NRC Handelsblad
Met name Nederlanders, en dan vooral vrouwen hebben doorlopende problemen.
Men kent zoveel verveling omdat de nederlandse vrouw nooit behoorlijk heeft leren werken.
Kijk naar de rondomliggende landen, vooral Zweden/Duitsland/Belgium/Finland/Denmark.
Het geluk van een man is: Ik wil. Het geluk van de vrouw is:Hij wil.
Wim de Bies keiharde realiteit.
Geestigheid is het grafschrift van een emotie
Voor volledig artikel en alle reacties;
 
9 January 2010
By on 17:15
Kijken kijken niet kopenhagen….
Copenhagen_paleis_resize
Het was er bitter koud, mooi, prijzig en veelal gesloten! Vier dagen zijn we er geweest en al die dagen waren de meeste winkels, cafe’s en restaurants gesloten. Bizar vonden we dat. Heb ik nog in geen een grote stad meegemaakt. Met zulke bittere koude wil je de warmte wel ff in en wat lekkers eten en/of drinken, maar dat was soms gewoon een probleem. (niet op een dramatische manier, maar toch) Van schrik kwamen we terrecht bij de Irish Pup. Die was wel open! En Wagamamma die was ook open.
Ernstig vuurwerk hebben we mogen aanschouwen (hier volgens mij illigaal, maar daar vliegt het gezellig in het rond, van die halve bommen) En dan die kinderwagens met babyinhoud voor de winkel en cafe terwijl vader en/of moeder binnen aan het shoppen was of aan een borrel zat. Vrij bizar, maar ook bijzonder dat dat kan en ook gewoon gebeurt. Krijg je volgens mij bikkels van kinderen van…..

By on 16:12
Cheerio!

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28 December 2009
By on 19:58
Traditional song from around 17th century

By on 16:53
Matty Groves
A holiday, a holiday, and the first one of the year
Lord DArlen’s wife came into the church,
The gospel for to hear.

And when the meeting it was done, she cast her eyes about
And there she saw little Matty Groves, walking in the crowd
"Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight
Come home with me, little Matty Groves, and sleep with me till light"
"Oh, I can’t come home, I won’t come home and sleep with you tonight
By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are my master’s wife"
"But if I am Lord Arlen ‘s wife, Lord Arlen’s not at home
He is out in the far cornfields bringing the yearlings home"

And a servant who was standing by and hearing what was said
He swore Lord Arlen he would know before the sun would set
And in his hurry to carry the news, he bent his breast and ran
And when he came to the broad millstream, he took off his shoes and he swam

Little Matty Groves, he lay down and took a little sleep
When he awoke, Lord Arlen was standing at his feet
Saying "How do you like my feather bed and how do you like my sheets
How do you like my lady who lies in your arms asleep?"
"Oh, well I like your feather bed and well I like your sheets
But better I like your lady gay who lies in my arms asleep"
"Well, get up, get up," Lord Arlen cried, "get up as quick as you can
It’ll never be said in fair England that I slew a naked man"
"Oh, I can’t get up, I won’t get up, I can’t get up for my life
For you have two long beaten swords and I not a pocket knife"
"Well it’s true I have two beaten swords and they cost me deep in the purse
But you will have the better of them and I will have the worse
And you will strike the very first blow and strike it like a man
I will strike the very next blow and I’ll kill you if I can"

So Matty struck the very first blow and he hurt Lord Arlen sore
Lord Arlen struck the very next blow and Matty struck no more
And then Lord Arlen took his wife and he sat her on his knee
Saying "Who do you like the best of us, Matty Groves or me?"
And then up spoke his own dear wife, never heard to speak so free
"I’d rather a kiss from dead Matty’s lips than you or your finery"

Lord Arlen he jumped up and loudly he did bawl
He struck his wife right through the heart and pinned her against the wall
"A grave, a grave," Lord Arlen cried, "to put these lovers in
But bury my lady at the top for she was of noble kin"


By on 16:46
Sneeuw, sneeuw, sneeuw!
Img_2266_resize
Jeugdsentiment! Sneeuw die blijft liggen, die knispert als je eroverheen loopt en die ook nog eens herhaaldelijk van een verse laag wordt voorzien!
Nice!!
21 December 2009
By on 08:10
The Cove
Ergens in een plaatsje aan de Japanse kust worden jaarlijks 23.000 dolfijnen afgeslacht in een hermetisch afgeschermde en bewaakte baai. Ze worden via een door vissers gecreeerde geluidswal in een naastgelegen baai gedreven zodat er toekomstige "Flipper" vrouwtjes dolfijnen worden uitgevist die aan dolfinariums all over the world worden verkocht a $150.000 de stuk. De overige dolfijnen worden naar de verboden naastgelegen baai gebracht en in alle vroegte afgeslacht. Zo gaat dat dag in dag uit van September tot Maart. Nu is dat dus ook aan de gang…! The Cove gaat over een groep activisten die dat wil laten stoppen.
Cove_xlg_2
7 December 2009
By on 10:15
Vrije Geluiden VPRO, fantastico!
4 December 2009
By on 21:02