Of Turkeys and Timing and True Love

So I go to pick up my bowl of butternut squash soup at the Cherrydale Atlanta Bread Company Thursday night and I look down and there is a TURKEY in my soup: an adorable, hilarious, most unexpected, and completely delightful outline of a turkey drawn (somehow?!) with sour cream. I laughed out loud and Charise Carroll, 19-year-old aspiring gourmet chef, peeked at me from behind the counter and, eyes twinkling, asked, "You like it?"

Let's just say good food surprises are a rare thing. I liked it so much that I invited Charise to come sit with my friend Angie and me and tell me what inspired her to make my supper so much fun. Turns out that the lovely Charise is one of ABC's bakers and is studying culinary arts at Greenville Tech with the hope of making a career out of food one of these days. "I really love baking," she confessed, and told us how she grew up making masterpieces in the kitchen with her mom and siblings. Creme brulee is one of her specialties, as are desserts in general. Working at Atlanta Bread Company lets her put that passion to good use while she studies her craft; she likes to let her talent and creativity shine wherever it can.

I don't know that this sparkly, wholesome, beautiful teenager decorates everyone's bowl of soup; I think maybe I got lucky because Charise happened to be in a very good mood that day. You see, her boyfriend of two years had just asked her to marry him; they're planning a Fall 2011 wedding and, yes, she's thinking about making the wedding cake and, yes, she was pretty much on Cloud 9.

Interesting that on a day when I'd read a disturbing article about how four in ten people now consider marriage obsolete, and at a time when positive role models for young girls seem all but nonexistent, I meet this charming young woman with a firm faith, strong values, who calls her mother "my best friend," and is giving 100+% at her job while studying for her degree and planning carefully for her life with the man she loves.

I've been sleeping better ever since; all is still right in at least part of the world. If you want proof, drop by the Cherrydale ABC and say hello to Charise.

Would Tony Take a Toke?

Here we go again. In the middle of the new administration's efforts to bring us all together, we are once more ripped asunder--sheep and goats, yay and nay, tomato/tomahto, and so forth. I refer to the Kellogg/Michael Phelps debacle, in which swimmer Michael Phelps--he of the Olympic hero status prior to being caught on camera smoking pot--has been fired as a poster boy for Kellogg's cereals. Some say Phelps deserved to be fired; some say Kellogg overreacted.

As a parent, I respect the Kellogg Company for taking action to protect their brand and reputation. I think they did EXACTLY the right thing. I don't care how many medals someone wins; if they commit illegal acts and show poor judgement, I do not want them held up as a role model for my child. (I'm not thrilled that someone who openly admits using cocaine made it into the White House, either, but that's a whole other issue.)

And while I'm offending people, let's drag Martin Luther King into the fray as well--and JFK, and others whom we all know but I don't want to waste the space to list. Why is it we sing the praises of people who consistently--and, often, publicly--practice bad behavior and bad judgement? Yes, they did good things, but they did them while cheating on their wives, or breaking laws, or violating a code of ethics! Hello?!?!?!? Anyone know the term 'moral integrity?' Do we have no outstanding Civil Rights leaders, no prominent politicians, no public servants who have achieved great things for their country while keeping their pants up and their hand out of the till? Why aren't they our heroes?

Back to the issue at hand, SURELY there are Olympic heroes out there who are just as noble, just as handsome, and just as charming, who are not off doing drugs when they're out of the limelight. Let's put THEM on the cover of the cereal boxes! They're playing by the rules! They deserve our admiration and esteem!

Perhaps I'm naive. There is, after all, that truism that power corrupts and celebrity ruins. Perhaps there are no pure heroes. (Mighty Mouse, where are you?) But this seems to me like when people shake their heads and talk about how horrible teenagers are. I know lots of wonderful teenagers, and only a few horrible ones. But the wonderful ones get overlooked because they're home doing their homework, or at church playing basketball, or at Scout meetings working on projects, instead of out in the street making news.

I'm mixing a lot of issues here, but the point is the same: we (and who is 'we?" the media? you? certainly not me!) keep lowering our standards about what's acceptable. But, to borrow one of my all-time favorite quotes about housekeeping standards, how low can we go? I'm constantly shocked by what I hear on TV and radio, stunned by behavior that people in the public eye display and get away with. I see the expectations for every new generation slipping down one rung after another on the proprietary ladder of life, and it infuriates me that those of us who find this disturbing are viewed as ultraconservative or uncool.

Recently, I had a conversation with someone about O.J. Simpson, who had all he needed to be one of America's great heroes. Instead, his life turned into one bad decision after another. One hopes that Michael Phelps' lapse in judgement is a singular incident, but whether it is or not, he has lost the right to call himself a hero. And with the fall from grace goes the privilege of standing arm in arm with Tony the Tiger--this time, at least.

Come on, middle America: if we can't raise the bar, let's at least grab hold and keep it in place.

Holy cats! It's a girl!

Well, dang! I don't do politics, but I have to say that John McCain's choice of Sarah Palin as his VP is the most brilliant strategic move I've seen in a very long time. I'll concede her lack of experience --not that that's a bad thing, given what "experienced" politicians tend to give us-- but I think it's pretty exciting that a woman who's not afraid to speak her mind, not afraid to stand up for her values, appears to have no hidden agendas, and is willing to go on record as saying polar bears aren't the cute, cuddly things Coca-Cola has led us to believe, may end up as our vice-president. And let's not overlook the fact that she gave all five of her children very cool names--a sure sign of great creativity!

Which brings us to the reason that Gov. Palin is such an intriguing choice: her primary accomplishment thus far is being the mother of five children--one of them with Down's syndrome. Parenting one child is a challenge; parenting five deserves a medal (or maybe a vice-presidency?) and requires a massive amount of brains, energy, discipline, compassion, diplomacy, patience, strategic planning, guts, and humor. How hard could it be to run a country after raising five children to be productive members of society?

Frankly, the American family may be the biggest beneficiary of this year's political pandering. Obama, McCain, and Biden are excellent role models for fatherhood (if not husbandhood); they're loving, devoted parents and their affection for their children is obvious, genuine, and brought some welcome moments of truth in the carefully scripted events of this year's conventions. Gov. Palin's commitment to motherhood is apparent in every interview she does. Now, none of us really believe our taxes or insurance premiums or cost of living are going down come January, do we? Surely, you jest. But if all this rhetoric and grandstanding results in a few more moms or dads deciding time with their children is time well spent, then all parties can claim a victory and the whole world will be a better place. Now that's something worth cheering for!

More Family Fun

Okay, folks, word is that "A Plumm Summer" did well in Minnesota, Montana, and Alabama last week, but not so well in California. It's showing again this weekend, so if you're in one of those states or have friends there, hunt up this film and vote for family values with the price of a movie ticket. If you see it, let me know what you think.

And while you've got the fam gathered 'round, when's the last time you played board games together? Scrabble, naturally, is my all-time favorite, and I have devoted many hours of my life to Monopoly, but my newest favorite is a game called "Carcasonne." I would play it daily if I could find a partner. (I've worn out everyone in my household!) I don't even care about winning; just the act of claiming and building up kingdoms and roads, or planting myself as a farmer in a lucrative area, is enough. Carcasonne takes a bit of effort to learn, but I promise you it's worth it.

The all-around favorite in our house, though is the card game of Spades. Having grown up in a good Baptist household where cards where frowned upon, I didn't learn the joy of Spades till I went off to my good Baptist college, Mars Hill. (Go, Lions!) Before I die, I have to learn to play bridge, else I can't call myself a good Southern girl, but in the meantime, I've learned to play a mean game of Spades. Every summer since they were old enough to safely reach the stovetop, I've taught my sons how to cook one new thing, figuring that by the time they left home, they'd be adept enough in a kitchen to keep from starving or living off fast food. (I realize the latter is a matter of choice, rather than culinary capability!) But the year the youngest was finally old enough to hang on to a splay of thirteen cards in a reasonably discreet manner, I cast aside tradition for ready Spades partners, and many are the fine summer nights our tribe has enjoyed at the kitchen table since.

It's May, my middle son has just completed his first year of college, my youngest is on the home stretch, and the scent of summer is just around the corner. Seems like a good weekend to go to the movies and get out the games.

More Family Films to Enjoy

Several years ago, I was invited to be a "MomExpert" for ClubMom.com, and contribute columns on a regular basis. They've since revised that program, but I still get to participate in nifty projects with Stacy DeBroff, the Chief Mom Expert who invited me onboard. Recently, Stacy's new organization, MomCentral.com, asked me to review a new movie called "A Plumm Summer," starring Henry Winkler, William Baldwin, and Peter Scolari, plus a little guy named Owen Pearce who will steal your heart away, and 16-year-old Chris Kelly, who will have your daughters swooning. I tend to be rough on movies, so I invited my husband, sons, and their friends to join me in watching this new production from director Caroline Zelder. Because it's billed as a "family film," my 17-year-old's eyes were rolling right along with the opening credits. And because my 24-year-old is a film director whose tastes lean toward the Coen brothers and Alfred Hitchcock, he was skeptical, as well (although the cast definitely caught his attention right off).

Let me just say that, these days, it's a pretty significant accomplishment for a film to hold the attention of viewers aged 15 to 50, but "A Plumm Summer" did just that. The story is based on a true incident: the kidnapping of "Froggy Doo," a children's TV celebrity puppet that was wildly popular in the midwest back in the 60s. Having been a huge fan of my own town's "Uncle Bruce Show," and the nationally televised "Mary Ellen Show," I had no trouble relating to the outrage this "crime" generated. Interwoven into the main plot are issues of coming of age, sibling support, alcohol abuse, and the boundaries of love. "A Plumm Summer" is funny, it's tender, there's a touch of romance plus a few tense moments and, even though nobody was willing to proclaim it their favorite movie of the year thus far, everybody agreed it was worth their time and they'd be willing to recommend it to others. The film goes out in limited release in Alabama, California, and one of the "M" states this coming weekend (Minnesota? Maine?); wider release will depend on how well it does on its debut. So, for heaven's sake, if it's playing somewhere near you, go see it. Lord knows we need all the family films we can muster! I don't know about you, but I really appreciate it when a well-known actor lends his or her name (and talent) to a film whose primary purpose is to uplift, rather than titillate or gross out, audiences. For that same reason, you should go see Jodie Foster in "Nim's Island." I love her work, but most of her recent films are so violent that I don't even put them on my consideration list. Perhaps if her family-targeted film is successful, Foster will focus her considerable talent in that genre instead.

Are Family Films Making a Comeback?

Remember how Jeff Daniels crawled out of the movie screen and into the theatre in The Purple Rose of Cairo? As I watched Dan in Real Life a few weeks ago, I wanted to do the same thing--in reverse. So real, so endearing, so inviting is life with the Burns family that I wanted to teleport myself right into their living room. I don't endorse many things, but you have to see this film. Take your children. Take your mother. You can even take your grandmother; if there's a profane word, I don't remember it. (And if there was one, Nana Burns probably smacked whoever said it with a wooden spoon.)

The purity this film offers isn't the cotton candy, sweetness and light, all's well in the world variety. It's a this-is-how-normal-families-who-care-about-each-other-behave kind of reality that rarely shows up on screen. Somewhere between the nastiness of Arrested Development and the saccharine of The Brady Bunch, there's a happy medium of family life with which most of us can identify. Director Peter Hedges has nailed it. These people have problems, but instead of pulling out a weapon, an illegal substance, or a stream of expletives, they actually WORK THINGS OUT. What a concept!

And now comes August Rush, which is a tad heavier on the saccharine, although the music score more than makes up for it. (If there's a budding musician in your family, this is required viewing, and if you like happy endings, you're in for a real treat.) Granted, the story line's pretty implausible, and most of the bad things that would befall a youngster alone on the streets don't, but I give director Kirsten Sheridan lots of points for creating a family-friendly film that's inspiring, uplifting, profanity-free, and worth the nine bucks it cost me to see it (the latter all too rare an occurrence). And while the two main characters do engage in a single act of unprotected, unmarried sex (which we happily do not see), the result is the consequence every parent warns about.

Is this a fluke? Two movies in a month with worthwhile plots, quality acting, believable dialogue, and NO swearing, sex, or violence? Could it be--gasp!--that Hollywood has finally figured out there's an actual market for intelligent, non-offensive films? Frankly, I think that's too much to hope for, so I urge you to pile Grandma and the kiddies in the car ASAP and prove the point by buying tickets--lots and lots of them...send everyone you know whose ears are numb and who's definition of "acceptable" has been stretched to the max--to these two movies. With luck, there are more to follow.

Let's Hear it for Barbie!

Who'da thought She of the Flaxen Hair, Pointy Breasts, and Pointy Toes would be the one to say "Enough!!!"?

There will be those who scream irony, but I frankly think it's quite fitting for Barbie to be first in line to save the girls of the world--and Lord knows they need saving. I speak of Mattel's gutsy new initiative, "We Believe in Girls," a movement whose purpose--on the surface, at least--is to encourage parents to let their daughters be little girls as long as possible. Self-serving, to be sure--Mattel is, after all, a toy company--but anything that promotes playing with dolls over playing with fire deserves as much support as we can give it.

In case you haven't strolled the halls of a middle school lately, be advised that waaaay too many of today's 12-year-olds dress like Paris Hilton, think Lindsay Lohan's cool, and have mouths that make Britney and Avril sound like Sunday-Schoolers. If that's not enough to make you shudder, go rent the movie "Thirteen," or flip through a few pages of one of the Gossip Girls books. Not only have we left Kansas far, far behind, we're thisclose to making Scarecrow spontaneously combust!

It's hard to say when it started or who's to blame (I have some theories but, good Southern girl that I am, if I can't say something nice, I'll say nothing at all), but Mattel is right: it's time to make a u-turn. And those of us who have enough sense to know that dressing 10-year-olds like trailor trash (best book title ever: Celia Rivenbark's Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank!) and letting 6-year-olds watch "CSI" (appalling a thought as that is, according to a recent article in USA Weekend, there are a lot of them!) is inappropriate need to lead the parade.

It's not just Big Evil Cities where such stupidity takes place. Some years ago, in a tiny rural town that shall remain nameless, I was the only parent upset when a P.E. teacher showed "Pretty Woman" to a class of fourth graders one rainy day. "He fast-forwarded through all the bad parts," a fellow--and presumedly intelligent and responsible--parent explained when I brought it up at a PTA meeting. "THEY'RE ALL BAD PARTS! THESE CHILDREN ARE NINE YEARS OLD! IT'S A MOVIE ABOUT A PROSTITUTE!" I screamed as politely as I could.

I am the mother of three sons, which, according to some, means I'm off the hook as far as worrying about the evils of society. Au contraire! I've raised my boys with the same set of standards I would have used for girls. At the Ferrer house, chromasomes have no impact whatsoever on moral expectations. One of my sons is 23 and I know for a fact he has learned some words I never taught him. (Note to parents: never tell your child you visit and read his MySpace site or you will be banned from said site, thereby losing that most intriguing--and fully public!--opportunity to gain insight into said child.) However, he has never used those words in my presence, nor have his brothers. And we have no arrests, impregnations, wild parties, drunken stupors, or drug usage to mar the family name thus far, so I have to believe my rules paid off--though I give the greater credit to God's grace and my sons' inherent integrity.

There are other mothers out there fighting the same valiant fight--I know them! I have lunch with them!--but I fear we are the exception rather than the rule. I suspect this because in the video store, I constantly hear tiny little people point to odious, horrific titles and say, "That was a good one, wasn't it, Mom?!" and because in the mall, I see mothers who should know better accompanied by daughters who never will.

Two things stick in my memory as being particularly heinous in regard to wise parenting. One was a newspaper article a few years back about women who had carried their daughters to meet Monica Lewinsky at some public appearance and were all excited. The other was when Madonna wrote a children's book and mothers were falling all over themselves to buy a copy. HELLO???? YOU WOULD WANT THESE WOMEN DISPENSING ADVICE TO YOUR DAUGHTERS, WHY?????

Are there no young Helen Kellers out there to admire? No Jane Goodalls, Chris Everts, or Amelia Earharts in the making? I'm betting there are. But it's not the good girls who make the news, it's the bad ones--and I don't know if that's our fault or the media's. My husband and I have an ongoing argument about profanity and gore-laced films. He says if Hollywood could make money off wholesome films, they'd make them in a heartbeat, but that's not what the public wants. How 'bout it, public? Would you keep buying and tuning in if the media made darlings of girls whose body parts were all adequately covered, whose favorite late-night activity was playing board games with their families, and whose worst vice was chocolate? I would! I've seen enough sleaze to last me a lifetime and I would really, REALLY like to think I have at least a 50/50 chance of getting a daughter-in-law who hasn't yet made it around the block.

Are you ready to stop letting Whever It is That's Doing All This steal our children's childhood? They have so little time to be innocent; shouldn't we protect that at all costs? The motivation for my second book, A Mother of Sons, came from a newspaper photograph of a woman holding a starving child. As I stared at that photo, I was struck by the unfairness of life and the realization that that mother wanted the same things for her son that I wanted for mine, but because that woman lived in some desolate, war-torn, drought-besieged part of the world, there wasn't a ghost of a chance her boy would know the life mine would. How wrong to let someone rob our children of the chance to know love and security and happiness and innocence when those things have become so rare in our world!

Please join me in Mattel's effort to make innocence something to celebrate instead of ridicule. If you know of a young person who's making headlines because of GOOD behavior, tell us about it right here. And go home and gather the gang for a round of Spades or Hi-Ho Cherry-O: time's a-wastin'!