Sunday, February 19, 2012

Media overload

When I heard about the death of Whitney Houston last week, I was shocked.  Now I'm bored.  The funeral, the search for medical records, her money, Bobby Brown and their daughter--seriously, who cares anymore? 
Judging by the turnout at her funeral, I would guess--a lot of people.
When we heard about the violence in Beit Shemesh, Builder and I were shocked.  Now, Builder doesn't want to hear about it anymore.   However, I do. 
And this is what I realize.  For Whitney Houston fans, her death meant something.  It meant the end of a pop star and legend.  It meant a favorite musician would no longer perform, no longer release new songs, no longer win a Grammy.  It affected their lives.  Since I really hadn't followed Whitney Houston's career, I didn't really care about the details.  Similarly, the violence in Beit Shemesh is something I want to think about because it affects me.  A lot of gender discrimination that originated in Israel has crossed the ocean and come to Brooklyn.  How much longer before I have to duck a zealot's rocks?  Before they get in my face and call me a slut?  How much longer can I walk the streets in Brooklyn before every payot-sporting male declares war on me because of the way I dress?  But, because Builder doesn't have to worry about gender segregation, or a dress code that grows more restrictive by the hour, it doesn't affect him.  And so he's tired of it.  But I can't ever be.

1 comment:

  1. Did you read about the tour company which specializes in renting our the rooms in which celebrities died? Whitneys room is on the hot list. Sorta insane if you ask me...


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