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We’ve been awfully serious lately here on the Beehive, haven’t we? Well, I thought I’d share this fun post with you all on this chilly (here in New York, anyway!) Tuesday afternoon: “If time and money were no object, and you had your passport in hand and someone to travel with you, what are the top 5 or 10 places in the world you would travel to and why?”

Mmm! Let’s daydream.

One response: “I did a report on Australia when I was in 5th grade and ever since then I have wanted to tour the entire country. This would probably take a few months to see everything I want to see.”

Um, this lady’s also dreaming about Ireland, an Alaskan cruise, Mayan, Aztec and Inca Ruins, and a beach vacation in Fiji! Yep, she’s going to be busy.

Another poster: “Venice, Italy– I want to ride on a gondola with my sweetie.”

And: “I hope to some day travel to Seoul South Korea because I have been watching their TV shows for years and years now, actually know how to speak some of the language from watching so much, and have grown to love their customs.”

And: “ALASKA! I think Denali National Park would be a good place to start. And then I want to go salmon fishing with the bears. And then take a cruise in the Price William Sound.” Seems like a good plan to me.

That’s right, we’re headed all around the world. Me, I’ve got Japan on the brain. Yum.

How about you? Where would you go?

Original post by Amy Shearn

In the last week or so, conversation in my family has taken a rather morbid turn.

My mother is in the process of rewriting her will, leaving the siblings to call dibs on sundry pieces of Hunter Family Memorabilia. The sewing machine! The hope chest! Mom’s totally kick-ass 1976 homemade wedding dress! My sister Audrey (smart girl) asked for the family books, while my brother asked for the Winnebago. We don’t have a Winnebago, but just the same, he’d like it fully equipped, with a big kitchen, water bed, AM-FM, CD, and a microwave.

Not to be shown up, I asked for world peace. And one-two-three-not-it! on being the executor of the will.

It’s not really the writing of the will and the vulturing of family heirlooms that I find morbid. It’s actually kind of fun. But I can’t get over the way my mother talks about her death as though it were a soon-to-be certainty, whereas I refuse to consider it a possibility. Ever.

“Today I am composing a list of things I would do if I did find out I had a limited amount of time to live.”

“Jeez. Someone’s having a fatalist Thursday! What a horrible thing to think about!”

“Not really. Think about it,” she said, “If you would do something completely different from what you are doing now, if you knew you only had a short time to live, don’t you think you ought to look at that list, and try to do at least some of those things now? Within reason.”

“Visit Prague. Tell people things. Eat,” I replied, quickly.

My list was easy to rattle off. Only the night before, I’d been lying on my living room sofa, swaddled in my bathrobe, blinking back an eye-burning fever. Feeling a little bit lonely, and a whole lot sorry for myself, I’d looked at Sir Hal, and without thinking, said,

“I want…”

Hal stopped licking his paw and stared at me as though to say, “Well?” so I went on.

“I want to lie on my bed and have someone pet my hair. I want to visit Prague. I want to tell people things I’m too chicken to say. And I want to eat. Molten chocolate cake, mostly.”

I didn’t mention the hair petting to my mother; it seemed silly and hard to knock off a to-do list. The cake thing, too, was really just a craving that passed with the fever.

But Prague has been on my list for what, two years now? I’m going to feel really stupid if tomorrow, I step off a curb and Bam! get hit by an MTA bus, having not made it to Prague. It’s not such a far-out-there, unreasonable goal. It wouldn’t take much more than a plane ticket and a Lonely Planet Guide.

And it would be an even bigger shame if Honk! went the bus and Squish! went Heather, and I’d left a whole bunch of things unsaid, to people who deserve to hear them. We all have our secrets – secret loves, secret fears and heartaches and regrets – and the older I get, the more I wonder what they’re actually worth if I keep them tucked away.

Not that all that wondering made much of a difference. Bus accidents are unlikely and I’m still a chicken shit. Maybe someday soon, though, I’ll get brave, write some of those unsaid things down, safety pin them to my underwear, and get on a flight bound for the Czech Republic. Just to tempt fate.

(The bit about the Winnebago and world peace? Yeah, that comes from a movie. Because in our family, we try not to say anything originally funny. If you can name the movie, maybe, just maybe there’s a prize in it for ya!)

Original post by hhunter

Recently some readers of the blog feel that I have been harsh on women, but I am only harsh on them because I expect more of them, and I only expect more of them because I’m one of them, and I’m all too familiar with our bad tendencies.

I think venality and evil are, sadly, running fifty-fifty among the sexes, and really always have. There will always be bad people, and I don’t think either gender has a corner on the market.

That having been said, I think it’s time I talked here about the kind of amazing woman that inspired me to write my Grrl Genius books, which are filled with the wise and wonderful words of other women, who I feel have not gotten their full measure of respect for their genius.

So let me tell you about one of my favorite women. I met her in a pie shop in Jefferson, Texas where we were both speaking at a book event. Her name is Iris Rainer Dart, and she’s the author of many books, but most people remember her book “Beaches” best because in it she writes so eloquently about friendships between women, and about both how wonderful and tortured they can be.

Iris was one of the first women to write for network television, back in the heyday of variety shows. If you thought Cher was witty when she slyly put down Sonny, well you were probably listening to the wit of Iris Rainer Dart.

Iris wrote blockbuster best selling novels, movies, television shows and now, in her (GORGEOUS) sixties she has gone back to her roots and has written an amazing musical about mothers and daughters that is being produced on Broadway by the people who brought you “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.”

But it’s so easy to look at someone so accomplished and love them for their brilliant work. However, Iris would be the first to say, “you are not your work.”

I love Iris, but not because she’s a genius of show business. I love her because she’s a genius of life. She understands that her husband, her children, her grandchildren and her friends are more important than anything. She is never so busy that she doesn’t have time for a friend and whatever they are going through. She is constantly mentoring younger women (like me.) She is always there with praise, and an encouraging word, and to remind you that you are not your work, or your money, or your reputation and that the true measure of a life is in the people you loved.

In her work life, Iris behaves with honor. She collaborates with other artists, and always gives credit where credit is due. She always expects the best of people and if they disappoint by lying or manipulating she actually feels sorry for the people who are trying to wound her. She can let the foolish behavior of fools go.

In her home life she is my role model of everything a wife should be. She and her husband are polar opposites in their political lives, and yet she manages to celebrate the fact that they agree to disagree in a way that is both charming, and frankly, kind of sexy.

Iris comes to mind because she has just published a young adult book with her real life best friend Joyce Brotman called ”Larry: The King of Rock and Roll.”

Naturally, it’s about a Maltese dog who becomes a rock star. Both she and Joyce have Maltese dogs, and well, if you’ve ever hung out with a Maltese, you could totally believe they would be able to become a rock star, because like most dogs they are treated like rock stars already.

Like everything Iris has ever written, this book is so full of life and love that I must recommend it to everyone. It’s almost as great as spending time with Iris.

But not quite.

I feel lucky that I have women in my life like Iris, women who are older than I, who are always willing to give advice from the perspective of having been where I am now. Women who constantly remind me that in the end, it is only love you give and receive that matters.

Do you have an Iris in your life?

Original post by cmichon

Don’t you dare get up and go to the bathroom this Sunday! It’s Super Bowl Sunday which by the laws of pop culture means you have to hold your bladder for three-plus hours until the game is safely over, and there’s no chance of an overtime. When it comes to Super Bowl Sunday you’ll have to throw out what you’ve always known as a given, that commercial breaks are a time to relieve yourself. With approximately $2.6 million spent on a 30-second commercial during the game these days, it would be almost cruel to miss out on the creative genius behind these ads. More importantly, you’ll need to be able to participate in the important water cooler chat the next day.

I don’t know exactly when the commercial craziness started, but I do remember back in 1987, hearing the now-classic line, “I’m going to Disney World,” in response to the question to the MVP quarterback of the New York Giants, Phil Simms. “Hey Phil Simms, you just won the Super Bowl, what are you going to do now?”

That campaign has already gone down in history as one of the most brilliant ever. I remember looking forward to the end of the game (no matter how good or bad) just to hear this classic line (and see which player said it).

Every brand is looking for that slam-dunk experience but the competition to stand out is huge. The big question is how to distinguish your brand from the all the others. Some turn to humor, others to emotion and others to just shock value.

My all time favorite Super Bowl commercial is the classic Budweiser Clydesdale horses (which will be in the mix again this year). Just hearing that music chokes me up. And, yes, I’m a softie, but who could forget the Coca Cola commercial where Mean Joe Greene is offered a Coke from a young fan, smiles and gives the boy his jersey.

This year we have the usual suspects, some unusual newcomers and of course some controversy. Here are some highlights. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Anheuser-Busch (A-B has purchased ten 30-second spots):
Clydesdale horses are back…yeah! We’ll also see astronauts and celebrities like Carlos Mencia, Dale Earnhardt Jr., and a chess match between Don Shula and Jay Z.

Taco Bell:
Two lions will promote their new carne asada steak grilled taquitos with former Fantasy Island star (Ricardo Montalban) as the voiceover talent.

Pepsi:
The beverage company is sponsoring half-time show with Prince and giving away a $100,000 jewel-encrusted can during the first and second quarter.

Coca-Cola (back in the Super Bowl after 10 years):
They will air an animated spot called “Videogame.” No hints on what that means, yet.

Frito-Lay’s Doritos:
Doritos held a contest for amateurs to create their own 30-second spot and will air the winning spot (unedited). All the finalist spots were aired online, and viewers had the chance to vote on their favorites. All of the finalists will be flown to Miami to watch and see which one of their spots actually won.

Chevrolet:
Chevrolet held a contest for contestants to pitch their ideas. Both groups had the spots professionally developed and shot.

NFL:
The NFL also used amateurs to pitch new ads, which were then professionally shot.

CareerBuilder:
Remember the cute Chimps? Well, they’ve been axed. CareerBuilder is generating pre-Super Bowl buzz by phasing out the cute chimps with the new campaign set to air Super Bowl Sunday. These chimps didn’t do anything wrong, but CareerBuilder apparently wants to freshen things up. Wow, it’s not just a Man eat Man world, it’s a Man eat Chimp world, too.

Marriage Proposal, sponsor still unknown:
Here’s a new one: A man named JP (not his real name) plans to propose to his girlfriend on Super Bowl Sunday and has raised more than $2 million to do so. Apparently a number of companies are interested in taking part in this spectacle. If this actually airs, I hope for his sake she says yes. A marriage proposal in front of 100 million people? $2 million dollars. A “no” in front of 100 million people watching? Priceless!

Nationwide Insurance:
K-Fed….yes, it’s true. The guy just won’t go away. Nationwide Insurance has hired Kevin Federline to star as a wannabe rapper toiling in a fast food restaurant and dreaming of stardom. When I first started hearing some controversy about this spot, I naturally assumed it was because K-Fed, who as far as I can tell, has no brain, no soul and absolutely nothing redeeming about him, is extending his 15 minutes of fame on the biggest TV day of the year. YUCK! Alas, this is not the gist of the controversy. The National Restaurant Association is upset with the spots (not with K-Fed) because it demeans the profession of fast food workers.

Can’t wait to hear your favorites! So, remember, in order to avoid any unnecessary bathroom breaks, drink responsibly.

Original post by Betsy Berns

Okay, here’s a term that irks me: helicopter parent. You know, the parent the media snickers about, the one who’s supposedly hovering all over his or her precious little progeny, trying to make and keep things perfect all around. It’s not behavior I’m in favor of – by any means. But a part of me resents the insinuation here. Everyone agrees that parents should be involved, and, in fact, when anything bad happens, everyone tsk tsk’s and asks ”But where were the parents and what were they thinking?” in the old blame-the-mom mode. But yet, if you’re too involved, you’re accused of hovering and catch flack for being all over your kid.

In other words: if you’re too involved, you’re a helicopter parent. But if you’re not involved enough, you’re phoning it in (i.e. on auto-pilot).

I freely admit to having spent parts of my parenting career in each camp. As for helicoptering, I sent one of my kids on an overnight school trip with a nametaped nail clipper. On the other auto-pilot extreme, I’m not proud to admit that I also once left one of them waiting for me for hours at an airport after my traveler returned from a summer trip. In my defense, that was ‘cause I totally miscalculated when the plane was supposed to land as the program materials showed it in military time (hey, there’s a reason I’m a writer and not, say, a math teacher).

Anyway, in my humble opinion, the whole over- and under-involved parenting debate is a classic “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” scenario. You just can’t win. So, how about we all agree not to play the blame game?

PS: But before we do, and since I’ve already come clean, what’s the most helicopter or auto-pilot parenting you’ve done or witnessed?

Original post by Laurie Yarnell