...Just the song and not the pants, okay?! My boys were blasting this song a few days ago and for once, I didn't yell, "Turn it down!" Now, don't get jealous, but I saw Journey live in concert in the early '80's. If you don't know every word to this song, I'm not even sure we can be friends.
This morning I got called on to do several radio and newspaper interviews regarding the latest girls gone wild headlines. In all of the interviews, I was asked what part the parents play in the destructive choices the struggling starlets are making. I have heard bits and pieces of disturbing information in various media accounts, but thought it would be a good idea to confirm the facts, especially since I have more interviews lined up over the next few days. Oh my. What I found, made me nauseous.
Let's start with celebutante trainwreck #1, Lindsay Lohan and this disturbing news account about her mom, Dina Lohan. Read it and weep.
Gee, I can't imagine why Lindsay is so messed up, can you? Didn't I rant about moms who seem more bent on being their daughters' buddies than their moms in my Your Girl book? Yikes, get this poor girl a mother. And send her mother my book. And then there's Papa Lohan who just got out of jail and is alienated from Lindsay. He did a round of interviews yesterday and today where amazingly, he owned some of the blame for his daughter's troubled behavior and said he had set some bad examples for her. He claims to have found God while in prison and if his changed life is sincere, he may actually be the best person to help his troubled daughter.
Onto celebutante trainwreck #2, Nicole Richie and this statement from her Pop, Lionel Richie:
"She keeps apologizing to me, I told her, you're doing exactly what you're supposed to be doing to your father at this age."
Um, help me with this one. Have most young women racked up two DUI charges and faced jail time by their 25th birthday? He followed with this: "She's just in an unfortunate situation." Hellooooo! Couldn't your daughter's selfish decision to drive under the influence cause an "unfortunate situation" for someone else should she cause harm to them or take their lives?
And now for celebutante trainwreck #3, Paris Hilton: According to a new biography about the Hilton family, Paris Hilton's parents are proud of their daughter's homemade sex tape. Biographer Jerry Oppenheimer claims that during his research for his book 'House of Hilton' he found that Paris' parents, Rick and Kathy, were not fazed when the sex tape leaked onto the internet. He was quoted by the New York Daily News as saying: "I have family sources telling me that Rick and Kathy Hilton are proud of everything Paris has done, including the X-rated video that launched her to this international stardom, infamy and fame." The author also says he ended up feeling sorry for 'The Simple Life' star because her mother set her sights on Paris becoming a celebrity. "Her mother, Kathy, put her in make-up and allowed her into nightclubs from a very young age. I feel sorry for her because in a way she had no chance to do anything else but live the dreams her grandmother and her mother had for themselves."
I'm not sure I even have the stomach to talk about celebutante #4, Britney and her recent falling-out with mom, Lynn Spears. While some might come to her mom's defense claiming she has at least tried to get Britney help, let's not forget that this is the same mom who prostituted her minor-aged daughter on the altar of fame and fortune by allowing her to dress and dance provocatively in an effort to sell records.
So, why am I even giving this trash the time of day? We may not be the parents of celebutante children, but here are 10 lessons every parent can learn from the parents mentioned above.
1) Be your child's parent first--they have plenty of friends and they don't need a buddy who dresses like them and hangs out with them on the weekends.
2) The "American Dream" is about much more than fame, success, and money and there is no guarantee it will bring a smile to your face.
3) Don't make excuses for your children when they mess up. Insist that they take responsibility for their sinful choices and make restitution for their wrongdoing...even if it means going to jail!
4) Don't attempt to live your dreams through your children.
5) Do not lend to the objectification of your daughters by allowing them to dress provocatively and/or cultivate their sensualities to gain male attention.
6) Limit your children's media exposure to unwholesome role models...such as the girls above. Paris hit the night club scene at 16 and my 17 year-old daughter camps out on the Disney Channel and is a huge Hannah Montana groupie. Don't let your girls grow up too fast.
7) Take your kids to church! A recent study found that religion is good for children. Here is what they found: The kids whose parents regularly attended religious services — especially when both parents did so frequently — and talked with their kids about religion were rated by both parents and teachers as having better self-control, social skills and approaches to learning than kids with non-religious parents.
8) Our kids did come with an instruction manual. It's called the Bible.
9) Raise your kids to think outside of themselves. I'm a big proponent of mission trips and proud that my kids have fed and clothed the homeless, built a food pantry and playscape in Progreso, Tx., held a Vacation Bible School for the children of Progreso, repaired roofs after storm damage in Wyoming, worked in a homeless shelter in Newark, NJ. They are not perfect, but they know that life is not all about them and happiness can be found by serving others.
10) If your daughter tells you she wants to be a pop star, laugh uncontrollably and then show her the picture of Britney after she shaved her head bald. Follow with, "Hey, let's go watch some Hannah Montana."
Ah, another chapter in the girls gone wild epidemic that has infected teen culture. In case you didn't hear, Nicole is preggers and facing possible jailtime for a DUI and a prior drunken driving arrrest. Yawn. Lindsey Lohan finished her rehab program just weeks ago, relapsed, got another DUI and could face up to six years in the slammer. Double yawn. But wait, that's not all. The media bottom-feeders hit the jackpot this week when they had to toggle between Lindsey's mug shot and news of Britney's melt-down during a photo shoot for Ok! magazine. And if the on-the-set sources are to be believed, this is not your average Britney melt-down (although "average" was redefined after the head-shaving incident). Erratic mood swings, eyes rolling back in her head while being photographed, paranoia about the ceiling caving in, wiping her grease-stained hands from lunch on the Gucci dress she was wearing, and a failure to react when her new puppy took a poo on an expensive designer gown. Who knows what's fact or fiction, but we're told the real truth will be told when the magazine hits newstands this Friday. Even if only a portion is true, we can at the very least agree that the poor girl needs some help. And I suppose it was after reading this latest account that I stifled my standard yawn at yet another girls gone wild headline. Which begs the question: Why exactly does this matter to average folks like you and me who don't carry cocaine in our pockets, drive under the influence, and go out in public without our undergarments? We don't want it to matter, but we are forced to respond when it's shoved down our throats at every media turn.
And so, it got me thinking. What is the take-away from the never-ending accounts of the celebutante trainwreck that have become our steady diet, albeit, one that's force-fed? What can we learn from all this Hollywood dysfunction? Alot, for starters, but for now, I want to focus on one I'm betting the media won't cover. I have begun to notice a common phrase that is used in the Brit-pack news accounts: "Cry for help." Now, think about it. Why do these girls need help? Didn't they simply buy into the culture's worldview that "anything goes"? Don't they carry the torch of the sexual revolution and their feminist fore-mothers who insisted that women should be able to sleep around and hook-up just like the guys, no strings attached? Don't they treat sex as a recreational hobby, and if I'm not mistaken, doesn't Paris even have a homemade video on the web to prove it? They certainly appear to be proud of their bodies and have flashed us every body part imaginable. Haven't they followed the advice of the trashy fashion magazines and lived out the sex-crazed, snag-a-man sub-titles in 3-D? Haven't they put their careers above such silly aspirations as marriage and motherhood and made millions along the way? It's all about them, 24/7, round the clock. Isn't this what "girl power" is all about?
But wait, I'm so confused. Why then, the cry for help? Could it be that living for self and engaging in endless sinful pleasures leaves one empty and powerless in the end? They're peddling a warped brand of girl power, if you ask me. If there was ever an endorsement for making virtue the new vogue, it can be found by watching these girls self-destruct in the public eye. And maybe that is the good that will come of this--a resurgence of virtue in today's culture. One can only hope. In the meantime, my prayers are with them. Rest assured, there is One who hears their cries for help and can turn their lives around -- if they're willing to listen. And I should know. My life is living proof of that fact.
| You Are 30% Normal |
 You sure do march to your own beat... But you're so weird, people wonder if it's a beat at all You think on a totally different wavelength And it's often a chore to get people to understand you |
My heart was grieved over the recent news story concerning five beautiful girls who died in a fatal car accident on June 28. They were longtime friends and four of the five were cheerleaders at their high school in Rochester, New York. They had just graduated from high school and were heading to the driver's weekend home for a sleepover celebration. Another carload of girls followed close behind and witnessed the tragic accident. I am particularly haunted by a quote from the sheriff investigating the accident in the days that followed.
"Several minutes before the first 911 call about the crash, Goodman (the driver) talked briefly with a fellow graduate trailing her in another vehicle. Two minutes before the crash was reported, her phone was used to send a text greeting to a friend, Povero said."
News of the accident came just days before a new study conducted by AAA and Seventeen of more than 1,000 16 and 17-year-old drivers released its results. The study found that 61 percent of teens admit to risky driving habits. Of that 61 percent, 51 percent say they talk on their cell phones while driving and 46 percent text message while driving.
Folks, we are on the roads everyday with these teens. Perhaps these teens are our children. I'm sure most of us have been guilty of talking on our cell phones while driving and I for one, plan to be more diligent about using my Bluetooth. Teens are especially distracted due to their inexperience behind the wheel, yet they suffer from the "invincibility factor."
I cannot begin to imagine the pain the parents of the girls are going through as they cope with this loss. And I never want to. I took the opportunity to sit down with both my driving teens and show them the news story which included a picture of all five girls at the top. I showed them one of the girl's MySpace pages and the stream of comments students are posting as a sort of virtual memorial. It was particularly haunting to see her last login date as the day before the accident. There was a picture slide show on her page which contained multitudes of pictures of the girls cheering at the game, striking funny poses, and behaving like an average group of senior high girls armed with digital cameras. I showed my kids numerous Facebook groups that have been created to mourn the loss. One, in particular, was created by the brother of the driver.
"It's just not worth it," I told my daughter and son. And then I begged them to put their phone away while driving. I encouraged them to be brave enough to speak up when they are in the car with a driver who is texting or talking and insist they hang up the phone. They assured me they would.
Later that day, when they grabbed their keys and headed out the door with their cell phones tucked away in their pockets, I resisted the urge to echo a nagging reminder when they said goodbye. Instead, I prayed and asked God to do it for me. :)
Home sweet home. I had an amazing interview taping with Focus on the Family that I am told will air sometime this fall. I will keep you posted as the details unfold.
In my haste to unpack and repack after the Atlanta trip, I somehow managed to remember everything EXCEPT my round hairbrush. Once I realized it on the morning of my interview, I raced down to the lobby in a panic. This may not seem like a big deal, but let me tell you--Texas hair requires a big round brush. The kind they don't carry at a Hilton Garden Inn in Colorado Springs. For all I know, they only make them in Texas. I must have stared for five minutes at the only hairbrush they had hanging on a wall of toiletry items. Finally, I broke down and bought the thing, prayed over it, and did the best job I could. I guess I'm just a hairbrush snob. 
What's the worst thing you've forgotten on a trip?
I returned late last night from the Christian Bookseller's convention held in Atlanta and am heading out the door to catch a flight to Colorado Springs for my Focus on the Family taping. Here are a few pictures and highlights!
It's a long story...
Out to dinner with the B&H Publishing Group family at Miss Pitty Pat's Porch. I had the crabcakes and they were AMAZING!
Me and Christa Horton, Author Relations/LifeWay (most of all, friend) posing w/ superstars, Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber!
Out to dinner with some of the CBD folks (Christian Book Distributors; christianbook.com). These guys are awesome! 
Interview about September release "Logged On and Tuned Out" with one of my favorite radio hosts, Dennis Rainey!
Paige and her friend, Kelti hit it off the first night with Karen Kingsbury's kids, Kelsey and Ty
Me with Karen Kingsbury, who just so happen to win the ECPA Book of the Year award! We share the same literary agency but had not ever had the pleasure of meeting until now. She is the REAL DEAL!
Okay, off to Focus on the Family!
Yes, you know who you are. You are everywhere. Tell me, please—where can I flee from your presence? You are my age (30’s-40’s+) and you are spending way too much time in the junior’s department of your local department store. Give your teenage daughter her clothes back and head to the nearest Talbots. Do not pass “Go.” Do not collect $200. Go, go, go. I’ll drive you there myself.
Yes, I’m talking to you who boarded my plane last week and garnered a captive audience when you wrestled to get your bag in the overhead bin. Unfortunately, the entertainment you provided was less about stuffing an oversized bag into an undersized bin and more about your ability to stuff your belly and bosoms into a shirt better suited for my 5 lb. Yorkie. And you forgot the cardinal rule about undergarments: Wear them. For that, you get a fashion citation from me and countless other passengers who were forced to attend the sneak preview of “A Journey Through My Mid-life Crisis Years.” Trust me, the rating was not suitable for the minors on board.
Clearly, I have reached my quota of “Hoochie Mama” sightings. I am not sure if it was the woman in seat 14C who caused me to finally crack, or the middle-aged woman in Best Buy strutting through the laptop section with her teenage son in tow. Did she miss the memo? No micro-minis after college. It doesn’t matter if she is a size 2 or a size 22—the answer is “No!” When she dropped her printer cartridge on the ground and spent a good half hour trying to pick it up, I hoped it would serve as a wakeup call that its time to retire the skirt. Her poor son seemed mortified when she finally screamed at him to pick it up for her. Teenage boys are supposed to fetch groceries from the mini-van and bring them inside, not rescue their mothers from the perils of poor fashion choices.
So, why the rant, you ask? I am tired of being subjected to too much, um, how can I word this gently…too much YOU. And I have a hunch I speak on behalf of many others who have felt helpless and without a vote in this matter. Ah, but you say this is a free country and you are simply exercising your rights to wear whatever you want. Well, the rest of us have rights too, you know. Just as we do not wish to hear a co-worker’s Monday morning recap of his/her sexual escapades over the weekend in the name of TMI (too much information), we do not wish to witness your public displays of TMY (too much you). Your epidermis is showing and its time to cover it up. There, I said it. Whew, I feel so much better.
I am certainly not saying that those of us in our 30’s and 40’s should be sentenced to a closet full of holiday-themed sweaters and Naturlizer footwear. I myself am not a Talbots-kind-of-gal. I recently purchased a pair of jeans from Banana Republic and the first time I wore them, at least ten friends asked me if I had lost weight. Apparently, the low-rise style is more flattering to my shape, which of course, makes Banana Republic my new favorite store. But, I am not naïve enough to couple the jeans with a cute midriff-baring tee. I do my once-a-month crunches just like the rest of my 40 year-old soccer-mom friends. They are usually brought on suddenly while watching an episode of NBC's "The Biggest Loser" and abandoned just as suddenly when the Cool Ranch Doritos ad runs midway through the show. And, for the record, it’s not an issue of being ashamed of my body. I happen to have six-pack abs, but mine are covered with an insulating layer of fat and can be a bit hard to detect at times. The bottom line is that no one wants to see my midriff except my sweet hubbie—in the privacy of our own bedroom where bare midriffs belong.
There is nothing wrong with donning the latest fashions, but do so in good taste. There is a balance between looking stylish and looking ridiculous. And if you have a daughter, remember a parent leads by example. It’s disturbing enough that you wear hoochie clothes, but even more so, that you allow your daughter to leave the house dressed like a stripper-in-training. Now, be a good girl and go clean out your closets. And do us a big favor and resist the urge to consign or give those hoochie clothes away. Deposit them in the nearest dumpster. It’s time to bury this trend…in the nearest landfill.
No Internet. No email. No cell phone service. No deadlines. I just returned from a one week family vacation where we took a cruise to Jamaica, Grand Caymen, and Cozumel. We took along Paige's cousin, Jennifer to even out the numbers and ensure that everyone had a friend.
A few notable memories:
*Food, food, and more food!
*An amazing violinist who played gospel songs and contemporary worship choruses! It was almost like being on a Christian cruise!
*Dunn's River Falls in Jamaica
*Tubing down a rain-forest-like river in Jamaica
*Almost missing the ship due to a stalled 18 wheeler blocking the road on the way back from Ochos Rios to our port in Montego Bay. Departure time was 5:30 and we boarded the ship at 5:22. Lessons learned: Don't cram too much into one day and stay closer to the port city!
*Turquoise waters in Grand Caymen and enjoying a brief thunderstorm while sitting under our beach umbrella.
*Finding a tucked away snorkeling spot in Cozumel and escaping the multitudes of passengers from four other cruise ships.
*A Coast Guard helicopter rescue on day six to get medical attention for a very ill crew member. The top deck was cleared and the ship never stopped moving while the helicopter hovered above and the medic dropped from the helicopter to take the patient up. Amazing. Our prayers are with the crew member!
Now, it's back to the real world. There are mountains of clothes to wash, emails to return, a book to write, and ho hum, cereal for dinner. And I'm pretty sure there will be no chocolate on my pillow or a bath towel folded like a stingray sitting at the end of my bed tonight.
