Andrea Wilson Woods' Blog

I remember the exact moment I fell in love with Michael Jackson. In elementary school, the sixth graders always enjoyed a party at the end of the school year to celebrate the transition from primary to junior high school. (In the good old days, you only deserved a graduation ceremony when you finished high school.) Anyway, the school rented out the local skating rink and as a bonus, we got to see Jackson’s Thriller, a 14-minute music video that had been released a few months before. As the video played on the wall, I found myself torn between wanting to watch it and trying to dance to the beat on roller skates. I had seen the video on MTV, but it was not the same. At the roller rink, the zombies became almost life-size, and I thought they had the best job in the world: they were Michael Jackson’s dancers.

Soon after that party, I bought Thriller (on cassette), and later I joined Jackson in being Bad and Dangerous. I tried to imitate his dance moves, but I could barely muster the moonwalk. His music videos continued to astonish the world as well as set a standard that few other artists could touch. Even when his actions seemed strange: his constant need to be around children, the creation of Neverland Ranch, the endless shopping sprees, I (like many others) considered him to be an eccentric Peter Pan. His talent far outweighed any bizarre behavior so I accepted it.

However, my love affair with Jackson ended when the first allegations of child abuse surfaced in 1993. I remember seeing him on television being accosted by reporters and instead of feeling pity, a knot formed in my stomach. Although I’ve never been physically or sexually abused, I consider child abuse worse than murder. Not only are abused children more likely to suffer from psychiatric disorders, commit crimes, and develop drug and alcohol problems, but one out of three will victimize their own children. I never bought another Michael Jackson album because every time I looked at him, my body cringed. I even gave away my copy of Thriller because for years I couldn’t listen to the album that had shaped my childhood.

We’ll never know the truth about the first case because it did not go to trial; the plaintiff’s family settled for an undisclosed amount. When the second case of child molestation emerged in 2003, it seemed more suspect because the victim had already appeared on camera in the documentary Living with Michael Jackson. Holding hands, Jackson and the young teenage boy explained to Martin Bashir why sharing a bed was a beautiful thing. When I watched that segment of the show, goose bumps appeared along my arms as a chill went through my body. Two years later, Jackson was acquitted of all charges, but his image was forever tarnished due to his unorthodox lifestyle.

Though I consider Michael Jackson one of the most brilliant entertainers to have ever lived, he is still a fallible, troubled man who spent his entire adult life chasing the childhood he never had. I don’t think Jackson sodomized any children because I don’t believe he is a true pedophile: an adult who is sexually attracted to young children. In fact, Jackson has always struck me as being asexual. However, compared to our American standards of normal behavior, I am convinced that he was inappropriately affectionate toward young boys. We cannot forget that at a very young age, Jackson was physically abused, exposed to sexual acts (i.e., his older brothers having sex in the same hotel room), and exploited by older, authoritative figures. Therefore, he was predisposed to becoming an abuser.

When I heard the news of Jackson’s death, my first thought was not sadness or surprise, but relief for him. He was never going to escape the media scrutiny or the public’s adoration. Jackson often mentioned in interviews how painfully shy he was, which was ironic considering he was and will always be the King of Pop. No matter how many times he changed his face, Jackson never seemed entirely happy with the Man in the Mirror. Children, however, brought him joy, which may explain why he seemed bewildered by the accusations of molestation. Jackson even told Bashir that if children ceased to exist that he would kill himself. Perhaps his character in the Thriller video said it best, “I’m not like other guys; I’m different.”

With his sudden death, an extraordinary man with an ordinary name, Michael Jackson may have given his three children what he always desired—a normal childhood.

AWW — XoXo

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During the wee hours of the morning, I lie awake unable to fall asleep because of insomnia and/or our dog Winston, whose arthritis has been causing him much pain lately. Instead of reading the dozens of books on our shelves, magazines on our kitchen table, or hundreds of emails in my inbox, I secretly watch infomercials. [Stands up] My name is Andrea, and I am an Infomercial Addict. I love them. I’ll watch my favorite ones more than once just to see if the producers ever change the content (they do). Yes, you read that correctly. I watch reruns of infomercials. It’s a serious problem. I even have rules regarding my infomercial viewing procedure:

1. I prefer that regular people pitch me the products instead of celebrities. For example, Victoria Principal’s skin looks so fabulous, but I have a hard time believing it’s strictly due to her Principal Secret skincare products. (Can anyone say “facelift”?) However, regular people often become famous if the infomercial is popular (e.g., Billy Mays, Billy Blanks, Susan Powter).
2. I only watch infomercials about products that I would consider buying so I focus mainly on health, beauty, exercise, and pet items. Anything related to cooking causes me to change the channel.
3. I must be excited by the title, and Paid Programming doesn’t cut it. With a dozen infomercials to choose from, the producers must grab my attention. My favorite title of all time (even though the infomercial sucks) has to be, “Is Colon Detox Hype?”

The infomercial “a blend of the words information and commercial” was created in 1984 after U.S. President Ronald Reagan signed the Cable Communications Policy Act, which deregulated television. Sources disagree about the first American infomercial although many believe it was Herbalife’s one-hour advertisement for a weight-loss supplement. In the U.S., the term infomercial is usually reserved for programs that are 28 minutes and 30 seconds in length. Short 120-second commercials that hawk products are called direct response television advertisements aka DRTV spots or short form; they are not technically infomercials.

A true confession isn’t complete without full disclosure of one’s sins … so here are my favorite (currently airing) infomercials a.k.a. guilty pleasures:

1. P90X: The Proof promises to whip your body into shape in 90 days by using Tony Horton’s secret technique of “muscle confusion.” I call his method kicking your ass until you want to drop dead. Actually, I bought this program on eBay (much cheaper!), and I love it. The only thing the infomercial does not disclose is that P90X is not for beginners. I’m proof of muscle memory because I don’t exercise on a regular basis (I’ve stretched the 90 days into seven months), but I still manage to survive most of the workouts.
2. Look Thinner Instantly swears the only way to get your figure back is with Kymaro’s New Body Shaper. This infomercial has all of the right ingredients: live testimonials, quantitative proof, and an “easy fix” to a common problem. I wanted to buy a body shaper, but I knew how ridiculous it would seem to people given that I wear a petite size 2. (There’s no way I’m posting my weight.) I did not succumb to temptation.
3. Straight Sexy Hair assures all women with flat, straight, fine hair that we, too, can have that extra lift by using the innovative Instyler, a “new hair styling tool that straightens, polishes and styles hair by means of a rotating heated cylinder and brush bristles.” I was almost sold because “Haley” has “lifeless, limp hair” just like I do and the results seem incredible. But I read too many mixed reviews about the product, and I knew eventually that it would be available in stores at a cheaper price.
4. Peticure “removes the fear of harming your pet” with its revolutionary mechanical grooming tool that resembles a rotating emery board. You no longer have to clip your pets’ nails; you simply give them a “peticure.” As a pet owner who has trimmed her dog’s toenails too close to the quick too many times, the peticure is an easy sale. The only reason I didn’t buy it is because I wasn’t sure if Winston’s (our 200-pound English mastiff) nails would fit into the slot provided. Now a similar product, Pedi Paws, is available at drugstores and pet stores in our area.

WARNING: Before buying any Infomercial product, do your research. Make sure you really want the product, search for the best price, and read all of the fine print. The latest scam is Flat Abs Fast, which markets the AB Circle PRO. “For just $14.95, you can try it for 30 days.” Uh-huh. But the shipping is $34.50 and then it’s only five easy payments of $39.95. Total pre-tax cost: $249.20. And good luck canceling those automatic payments on your credit card if you don’t like the product.

Suddenly, I don’t want flat abs fast; I have to learn to accept my flab or go confuse my muscles again.

AWW — XoXo

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Whenever I ask people why they don’t like the Los Angeles Lakers, the answer is always the same, “I hate Kobe.” The last time I checked, the Lakers were a basketball team as in “a number of persons forming one of the sides in a game.” Kobe Bryant may be the Lakers’ most recognizable player, but he is only one man. I don’t understand hating an entire sports team because of your dislike for a particular players, no matter what the reason.

Some people say Kobe isn’t a team player; a viable issue earlier in his career that I feel has been resolved due to strong coaching, increased maturity, and an ever-deepening love for the game. If you don’t believe me on that last point, watch the 2008 Summer Olympics Men’s Basketball Ceremony; Kobe wanted to win for the United States, not for himself. Many people have expressed a dislike for Kobe because he got away with rape. Well, maybe he did, and maybe he didn’t. However, just as I refuse to judge a whole team by one player’s actions, I’m not going to allow my personal opinion of Kobe to taint my view of his athletic abilities. No matter what you think of the man, you cannot deny his talent and skill. Kobe Bryant may not be my favorite NBA player (Michael Jordan stole my heart years ago), but he is one of the greatest basketball players of all time, and he happens to play for the LA Lakers—my local team.

As game five of the NBA Finals approaches, I have some final words for my fellow Los Angelenos. If you are rooting for the Orlando Magic because you are originally from Florida, you have always liked the organization, and/or you have a thing for Dwight Howard, then I wish your team the best of luck. However, if you want the Magic to win simply because you hate the Lakers (i.e. you hate Kobe) then you have no community spirit whatsoever. With or without Kobe, I support the Lakers because they are a Los Angeles sports team. Veteran player Derek Fisher not Kobe saved game four on Thursday night by tying the game and forcing it into overtime. Pau Gasol, Trevor Ariza, and Lamar Odom have contributed more than their fair share during the post-season playoffs. The Lakers are not perfect, but they do represent the “City of Angels.” We should be proud of them.

As for all of you local Lakers Haters (including my husband), I cannot wait to see the looks on your faces when the Lakers win the national championship, their fourth one in the past ten years. Because they will succeed, and when they do, you can kiss my Lakers-loving ass.

AWW — XoXo

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Before I could understand why I bond more easily with men, I first had to examine male and female friendships. Nothing explains it better than this Friends the difference between men and women television clip. After seeing it, I realized despite being the first among my close high school girlfriends to lose her virginity, I hardly said anything about it. The conversation went something like this:

Girlfriends: Did it hurt?
Me: Yes.
Girlfriends: How much?
Me: A lot!

Despite our tight lips about certain subjects, I was very close to those girlfriends, but after high school, I moved to Los Angeles to attend USC, where I suddenly found myself surrounded by men. I remember thinking what Harry said to Sally about how men and women could never be friends because the sex always gets in the way. Most of the guys I met wanted to date me, and I went out with many of them. Some of those doomed romances developed into friendships, but they were not the same as my few female friendships.

Harry is right; the sexual tension never completely goes away. Even if you are not that attracted to the person, having a friend of the opposite sex brings another element to the relationship. I like having male friends (MFs, not to be confused with MILFs) because:

1. They are good for my ego. For example, one MF always greets me with “Helllooo gorgeous!”  When I admitted this truth to a different MF, he said, “That is very masculine of you.” I like the harmless flirtation because it’s safe and comfortable.
2. Men are completely honest. If I’m being irrational, illogical, or a general pain in the ass, they tell me. The candor goes both ways. I can be normal blunt self with my MFs, but I cannot be so honest with most women.
3. MFs are rarely jealous, judgmental, vindictive, gossipy, or mean, and they don’t compete with you. I didn’t even realize that some of my (now former) female friends competed with me until the men in my life pointed it out. When I think about competition, I imagine winning a board game, not beating my girlfriends at life.

When I asked my MFs about this issue, here is what they said:

• You don’t have girlfriends because girls in general don;t value loyalty. Men have friends for life; women have friends for months.
• You are entirely too blunt, too honest, and you speak your mind.
• You are like a having a guy friend, “low-maintenance.”
• We were always friends; we just didn’t talk. (A MF’s comment after a nine-year hiatus in our friendship due to a fight—guess that loyalty thing is true.)

Oscar Wilde once said, “Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship.” I beg to differ. Maybe I have more MFs now because I grew up climbing trees, jumping off roofs, and begging the boys to let me play ball. Then again, I played with Barbies and took ballet lessons. However, I still remember the constant teasing and bullying in junior high; being verbally abused by my female peers hurt my self-esteem for years.

Positive female friendships are rewarding, yet complicated; they require more time, energy, and effort. Maybe I just don’t want to work that hard anymore. My MFs love me for who I am, and for that—I love you, man.

AWW — XoXo

P.S. I honestly love women, but as for finding my BFF, I don’t discriminate; gender doesn’t matter.

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I am not what most people would call a “handy” person. I don’t like hooking up electronics, fixing the garbage disposal, or unclogging the toilet, but I have done all of those things. However, I do enjoy solving problems, and with the Internet’s endless supply of easily accessible information, I have figured out simple solutions to many computer issues.

• When Windows downloads an update that conflicts with Word 2007 and Vista (happens ALL the time), I know how to fix it, and no—system restore is not always the ideal option!
• When I wanted to recover all of my past AOL emails for archive purposes (so I could finally cancel AOL), I found the ePreserver program that saved them for me.
• When Outlook started failing on my husband’s computer, I worked on it for days until I found the conflict between the software and our DSL provider.
• And when I cannot find the answer, I ask for help from a knowledgeable source.

While my ability to build furniture is slightly impaired, I find doing things myself helps me learn. This rant stems from teaching a new generation of people under the age of 30 who appear to have no idea how to do things themselves. For example, I have students who cannot:

• Format line spacing in MS Word
• Tell the difference between fonts or font sizes
• Create a title page for a final project
• Attach documents to emails

The most troubling thing is that it never occurs to these young people to:

• Look up MS Word issues under the Help feature
• Research the problem on the Internet
• Call tech support, which is provided free of charge
• Ask someone who actually knows the answer for help

Instead, they make excuses and expect that their ignorance will be forgiven—despite a strict rubric that clearly states the expectations of assignment. Their refusal to learn only hurts them, but I’m not sure if it is entirely their fault. During their childhood, this “Millennial” generation (born after 1981) received gold stars for attendance and effort. All they had to do was show up and try their best—actual results didn’t matter. As for doing things themselves—forget about it. We, the Baby Boomers and Generation X adults who created the Millennials, did everything for them from tying their shoes, to doing their homework and even perpetuating the myth that winning doesn’t matter.

According to Strauss and Howe’s fascinating book Generations, American generations engage in a four-part cycle, which essentially means the Millenials will produce a generation vastly different from their own. However, there was one anomaly in the cycle during the Civil War, a “secular crisis.” What if our current economic recession (an event the book predicted based on history) creates another non-DIY generation? Not only would I quit teaching, but I also believe another ignorant, lazy, whiny group of “Gold Stars” who have never been permitted to fail would be an utter disaster for our country.

After all, “Mistakes show us what we need to learn.” (Peter McWilliams)

AWW — XoXo

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