Back in the day, I used to post all my writings to my MSN Spaces page. Once I started at UNO last year, however, I kind of let it slip away. Anyway, I feel like starting it up again. I don't know how consistent I'll be. And I assure you it will be quite boring and, in most cases, pretty damn long. I'm just warning you. There's no obligation to read any of it. I do this for my own pleasure.
Anyway, this first piece was for my Magazine Article Writing class. My professor said I should attempt to get it publish in the school's student newspaper. And I would, if the student editors would ever return my calls about writing for them.
It's entitled "No Girls Allowed."
No Girls Allowed
“No Girls Allowed…Except Hannah Montana.” These are the words that adorn the bedroom door of my 5-year-old nephew, Patrick Jr.
Let there be no doubt as to the immense popularity and influence of Hannah Montana. She is an economic and pop culture juggernaut. She has done what few other female performers have done – she has attracted the 5-year-old boys market.
This worries me. I do realize that things are different from when I was a kid. However, I fear some people underestimate the importance of a young boy identifying himself with male-hood. Five year-olds aren’t supposed to like Hannah Montana. Five year-olds are supposed to like fire trucks; 5-year-olds are supposed to like cowboys and athletes, not Hannah Montana.
In a conversation I had with my brother, I expressed my concerns.
“PJ, what’s that sign on Junior’s door?”
“He likes Hannah Montana.”
“What do you mean he likes Hannah Montana?”
“I mean he likes Hannah Montana.”
“But he’s a boy. Boys aren’t supposed to like Hannah Montana. Boys are supposed to hate Hannah Montana. Boys are supposed to declare war on Hannah Montana and run over her merchandise with their big wheels.”
“Junior doesn’t have a big wheel.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t have a big wheel?”
“I mean he doesn’t have a big wheel.”
“What does he have?”
“He’s got these shoes with these wheels that pop out on the bottom.”
“OK, so what you’re telling me then is that my nephew wears roller skates and likes Hannah Montana?”
“Yep, that’s what I’m telling you.”
Before you start calling me chauvinistic or sexist, it’s important to point out that being a 5-year-old boy isn’t easy. In fact, you could make a case that it’s the most difficult time in a boy’s life. Boys have so many things to break and so many electrical outlets to put their finger in. These are daunting tasks. The peace and serenity of Hannah Montana disrupts the boyhood “Mojo.”
I idolized two people when I was a kid – Michael Jordan and the leader of the Thundercats, Lion-O. The sign on my bedroom door read: “No Girls Allowed…Unless Accompanied By Lion-O.” No Lion-O, no entry.
That’s the way it was. That’s the way it was supposed to be. I was in harmony with nature. I was supposed to idolize the greatest basketball player who ever lived. I was supposed to idolize some overgrown steroid with a mullet that uses a phallic symbol for a weapon. It was the 80s. It was a simpler time filled with trickle-down economics and chronic cases of Pac-Man Fever. Girls wanted to be Pat Benetar and boys wanted to be Rick Springfield.
But now it’s the 21st Century – everything is all skewed. Girls want to be Justin Timberlake’s bicycle seat and boys want to be Hannah Montana on rolling skates. And who can blame them? Hannah Montana has more merchandise than Star Wars (and I should know).
Last week I was at Wal-Mart where I ran into a woman in the dairy section. In her cart were six boxes of Hannah Montana Macaroni & Cheese. In her hand were about a dozen sticks of Hannah Montana string cheese. That’s right – string cheese.
“They have Hannah Montana string-cheese, too?” I asked her.
“They have Hannah Montana everything,” she answered. “My daughter won’t eat any other kind. It has to be Hannah Montana string-cheese. I haven’t told her yet that it all comes from the same cow.”
And woe to the people who are within this little girl’s arm reach when she discovers the true source of Hannah Montana string-cheese.
To me Hannah Montana is an updated version of Barbie. And it was fine when girls were going crazy over Barbie when I was a kid. It was over there, being discussed in the girls’ restroom. It was separated from the boys’ restroom where the talk centered around the training program He-Man had Battle-Cat on.
It’s different now. Boys have been absorbed into the Hannah Montana maelstrom. Who will inform them that Hannah Montana and Barbie are cut from the same cow? The parents? Their loving uncles? Someone will…except Hannah Montana.
