An Apology to Britney Spears

Here’s my dirty little secret. I have been a Britney-follower for years.

I say “Britney-follower” as opposed to a “Britney fan,” because I don’t actually own any of her albums or merchandise, save for a few songs I downloaded from iTunes to make a vacuous, ear-splitting, beat-pumping running mix. (Incidentally, there are lots of other truly awful songs on that mix that I would never listen to in my apartment, including Fergie’s “My Humps” and Justin Timberlake’s highly annoying “Sexyback.” Isn’t it amazing the things we will do to motivate ourselves to run? I mean, who’s kidding who here …the only really appropriate time to run is when you are being chased. At night. By a pack of rabid dogs. With guns. )

I have four Britney songs on my iPod, which cost me 99 cents each. This means that I have contributed a total of $3.96 to the “Britney Empire.” This would make me feel good about myself, were it not for the fact that I have probably contributed hundreds of dollars to the “Britney Machine.”

What’s the difference, you ask? Well, to my mind, the “Britney Empire” consists of the things that she herself has had some kind of hand in, no matter how ridiculous or contrived. There are the songs and videos on albums and DVD’s (obviously.) There is the merchandizing, which includes Britney dolls, Britney purses, Britney lunchboxes, Britney t-shirts, and of course, Britney perfume, which arguably makes more money than her music does. Despite this marketplace gorging, I have managed to keep my contribution to the “Brit-pire” at $3.96. (Technically, I suppose that I could be held responsible for any Pepsi product that I bought during the time of her endorsement, but let’s keep things simple, shall we?)

Sadly, I participated in the far more insidious side of the Britniverse – the “Britney Machine.” This is the moneymaking bonanza that is around her all of the time – with or without her consent. Three or four years ago I developed a hopeless addiction to celebrity magazines like “People” and “Us Weekly.” It was right around the time of Britney’s sudden Vegas wedding to her hometown pal Jason Alexander, and I found myself compelled to read about the fallout. As we all know, things got worse from there, and I wanted to read every word. The only justification I have for this pathetic behavior on my part is that I REALLY wanted (and still want) Britney to redeem herself.

I remember when she first came on the scene because I was teaching English and drama at a private girls’ school in Toronto. “Hit me Baby, One more Time” was catchy enough, and Britney has an undeniable star quality, but I was more interested in how she was being marketed to the world. The “sexiest, richest, small-town girl-next door” had a perverse appeal for kids and adults of both sexes, and there was a sudden tidal wave of press surrounding the 16 year old. At the time, however, I didn’t really think much about her personal life at all.

All of that changed for me when a journalist felt that it would be in the world’s best interest to ask Britney whether or not she would preserve her virginity until marriage. As a teacher of young women, I was outraged by both the question and the media furor it created. If an adult had asked me when I was 16 about my sexual status – a stranger, no less - I would have been MORTIFIED. Keep in mind that Britney was being carefully handled by a team of publicists and managers … and her mother … and they were probably all there at the time the question was asked. There is only one acceptable answer to that question if you are an American 16 year old – and Britney gave it. She would remain a virgin until she was married! Of course! Her public breathed a collective sigh of relief – the Southern belle with the sexy moves would remain untarnished.

Is it any wonder that Britney is the mess she is now? As a direct result of the marketing strategy that brought her to fame, she has swung wildly between “good girl” and “bad girl” stereotypes in recent years. She tried to satisfy the “be good” camp by becoming a wife and a young mother. The tabloids followed her ruthlessly, documenting every mistake ranging from downright offensive (driving with her baby in her lap) to downright human (tripping while she carried her baby in her arms.) The public didn’t respond well to “Married Britney,” so she became “Divorced-rehab-hopping-vagina-exposing Britney.” That didn’t go so well either. And with every day that passed, the paparazzi army around her grew.

And where was I? I was buying the magazines that paid the photographers around her. I was funding the stalkers that were diving onto the pavement, hoping for the coveted “upskirt” shot as Britney stepped out of her car. I was logging onto the insidious blogs like TMZ.com and perezhilton.com that reported all of her missteps with unabashed glee.

Britney, I am sorry. My interest in you lies largely in the fact that I feel that you have been treated unfairly, and I do hope that you work your life out. But I finally recognize the part that I have played in creating the circus that surrounds you. I promise that from now on I will show my support for you and your young children by ignoring you to the best of my ability. I’m sure that I will still hear about your exploits in one way or another, but I promise that I will no longer seek out any information about any part of your life.

I have been magazine free for a month, and I honestly feel better about myself. This isn’t just about Britney anymore. It’s about admitting that just because someone makes a public living it doesn’t give me the right to poke my nose into their business, even if their business has been neatly served up to me in a bright glossy package.

Can one person (me) make a difference? Probably not. But we should all reconsider how much time we spend on our celebrities, because we must be approaching some kind of pop culture critical mass. We talk about "responsible consumption" when we speak about the environment - maybe it's time to think about the "responsible consumption" of human beings. The Princess of Wales did not survive the constant media scrutiny around her, and I fear that the Princess of Pop may fare no better.

The hardest thing about creating a blog ...

... is naming it.

I should have seen this coming, but it's been six years since I created my "hotmail" address, and I had forgotten how difficult it was to compete with the billions of web users out there who are way more savvy than I am.

As it is, I am barely savvy enough to turn my computer on, much less write a "blog." I must admit that I never thought that this day would come. But, day in and day out, I do my best to teach teenagers to write, and the reality is that I have not written anything myself in ages. I need to be clear here, I love my job, but there are only so many times that you can correct apostrophes, explain the difference between "their" and "they're" or try to explain the problem with the sentence "The author uses the last chapter to tie loose ends to the reader," before you want to slam your face into the Unabridged Oxford Dictionary of the English Language.

Why a blog? It's pretty simple - I want to practice the type of writing that you do for an audience. I do my fair share of melancholic whining into a personal "journal," but I wanted to try something different. I come from a family of very talented and successful writers, and I want to do my best not to let my end of that bargain down. Finally, although I doubt very much that anyone will actually ever read these blogs, I hope that an imagined audience will make me more disciplined and creative in my writing.

So ... creative task #1 ... find a name for the blog. "Alison Hunter's Blog" is boring and lame, and if my students are going to find my writing and ridicule it (or me,) I would at least like them to have to work at the internet search a little bit. I considered "Just One Thing," a reference to the fact that my friend "ACR" and I are always yearning for "just one thing" in life to be simple, but it was taken. So was "Here's The Thing," which is a phrase that my best friend Viki and I use because everything good in life comes with some kind of qualifier. Example:

Alison: "How's the new automated kitty litter box working out?" (Note: I am not making this up. Viki bought a $300 dollar kitty litter box that SCOOPS AND DISPOSES OF THE WASTE ITSELF. It's gigantic and looks like the Death Star. I would drop $300 on this invention in a second if I didn't live in a one-bedroom condo.)

Viki: "It's incredible! It really does everything it promises - it cleans and scoops and all I have to do is carry the sealed bag out to the trash! But HERE'S THE THING ... one of the cats is so fascinated with the scooping that he leaps into the box the minute it begins to do its thing ... and it automatically shuts off as a safety precaution."

Alison: "So - it never actually gets to "scoop" itself out?"

Viki: "Well no, I've had to do it so far. We're working on it."

Unfortunately, "Here's the thing" was already taken. As was "Here's-the-thing," and, as I learned in a moment of desperation, "Here's the thang."

I quickly abandoned the idea of using some pretentious literary reference when I realized that if I did it was very likely that the name of the blog would consistently be more meaningful and interesting than the writing within it.

So then I began to think about catchy TV/movie phrases that still might be recognizable in a year, or at least funny to me. The Simpsons and Family Guy provided some frontrunners, including "See you in the car!" (Millhouse's yearbook message for Lisa) and "I'm hungry or teething!" (Stewie's explanation for throwing a faux-fit on a plane). Both taken.

I had high hopes for "Blarp" which refers to a running joke with my brother, Colin. A character in the very funny "Hot Fuzz" (if you haven't seen it, you must) only answers questions in the affirmative, with a definitive "Yarp." Later in the movie, the gag is referenced by throwing in one negative - "Narp." Colin and I have discovered that EVERY word is funnier if it ends with "arp," and utilize this gag often, much to the bemusement of everyone around us, including his girlfriend Liz (aka Larp.) But "Blarp," ... believe it or not ... was taken.

So then I started digging deep.

I'll spare you the trauma, but I begain this damn "blog" journey at 5:30, and I am about to wrap it up at 10:30, which gives you an idea about how tricky this quest has been. So let me just tell you about "The Workshed."

Last weekend I read Bruce Campbell's excellent book "If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor" (if you haven't read it, you must.) In it, he points out that there is a very obvious overdub in "Evil Dead 2" where Ash "says" the word "workshed" so that audiences know where he's headed. His lips clearly do not move at all when he formulates this plan, and this has become something of a legendary joke on college campuses. I couldn't believe it when I typed in "The Workshed" and it was accepted.

And really, it's kind of fitting. In "Evil Dead 2," "workshed" is a superfluous word. It's clumsily edited in, and it's not at all necessary - the audience figures out that Ash is headed to the workshed because ... he goes there in the next scene. And now it has become a gag to watch for for every hard core "Evil Dead" fan out there.

I hope that the entries this blog will be kinda like that. They are just superfluous, unnecessary words, written for my own gratification in an attempt to leave a literary legacy other than red scratchings on student essays. And I hope that someone will be amused or entertained by the writing, even if that someone is me. If they become a running gag, so much the better.

So if you are reading this, I hope you enjoy it. We'll see what happens.

Alison

P.S. There is a chance that an "Evil Dead" purist will happen upon this blog as a result of their frantic "Evil Dead" google searches and quickly point out to me that the infamous line is not "The Workshed" but simply "workshed." Well, smartypants, I tried "workshed." It was taken.

A