I never got asked to the prom.
Well, although that is technically true, I was not without a date to either my junior or senior prom. It was just assumed that my high school boyfriend and I would go together, so we did. Boys who didn’t have a girlfriend decided who they would ask, headed to her locker and said something provocative such as, “Wanna go to the prom with me?”
Things were much simpler 30 years ago. Today, everyone has to be asked, even longtime girlfriends. And The Ask has to be something special, something creative, something elaborate. Otherwise, it’s considered “lame,” according to the 17-year-old expert in my household.
On this subject, I’ve got to give him credit for walking the walk. Even though he and his date are just good friends, that didn’t give him license to be “lame.” He heard that she wanted to be asked via piano sonata, so he obliged with a bit of humor thrown in. He showed up at her door one night last month with a plastic toy piano that he pretended to play, a sonata on his iPod and a giant bouquet of flowers. No matter that it started raining and the iPod sonata was barely audible. He got a yes and they’re preparing for the big day on May 6.
He’s since told me stories of boys who posed their questions via glow sticks on driveways, icing on cupcakes and painting on bare chests. I mentioned this to a friend at work who has a same-age daughter at a different high school, figuring that it was just a one-school trend. No way. Her daughter’s prom date found out what her favorite flowers are (white roses) and presented her with an origami bouquet that he made himself. Another boy at that school tried to ask a soccer-playing girl via crepe paper on the soccer goal, but the letters kept disintegrating in the rain before she saw them. The girl also was a cheerleader, so he ended up asking the squad to do a special routine while he stood in the bleachers, holding a bouquet of flowers. Yet another boy enlisted the help of his math teacher, who revealed a portion of a white board and told class members they had one more problem to solve: to determine whether Jill (name changed to protect the fact that I don’t know it), would go to the prom with Jack (ditto on the name change).
As if my exhaustive research with my work pal weren’t enough, I hit the Internet. I Googled “Prom Ask Ideas” and immediately realized that I must have been living under a rock the last few years. There are thousands of entries, including an Ask.com page, blogs, forums, wikis – you name it. There are YouTube videos that capture the asking, and YouTube videos that themselves are the asking. An ehow.com article begins with “Prom season is for making memories, but the experience doesn't start with the dance. It begins with the invitation…” The article groups its suggestions into “Romance” categories, ranging from “Adventurous Romance” to “Old Fashioned Romance.” Old fashioned? What, the kids who aren’t yet 20 yearn for the good ol’ days? What are the good ol’ days for them, preschool?
Earlier this very month, a woman devoted a blog post to ideas designed to be both creative and inexpensive. Ironically, she’s also hawking for $10 a CD called “Asking in a Crafty Way” that promises 100 ideas. “Asking for a date just isn't what is used to be...especially if you live in Utah!” she says. Well, obviously. I always say, when it comes to dating trends, as Utah goes, so goes the nation.
A North Carolina teen convinced his AP US Government and Politics teacher to turn his prom ask into a question on a recent test. "I'm 29 and it hasn't been all that long since I've been to the prom," the teacher told the Charlotte Observer in an April 17, 2011 story. "I don't remember kids being this creative.” I’m with him. And not just because we 29-year-olds have to stick together.
So what’s to make of this phenomenon? On one hand, it certainly is a bit over the top. I’m wondering if some girls feel pressured to say yes since the guy went to so much trouble and maybe even became a public spectacle. I shudder to think of how far some men will have to go to outdo themselves when it’s time to ask a woman to marry him. And think about how many starving children could be fed or Habitat for Humanity homes built if these teens applied all that time and energy to loftier pursuits.
On the other hand, what’s the harm? At the heart of these creations, productions and presentations is a boy realizing that he wants to spend some time with a girl and deciding to take a chance. It’s one human being learning something about another human being and working to make that person feel special. There’s courage and grace and sweetness in that. And Ask.com be darned, that’s the kind of Old Fashioned Romance we all could use some more of.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Vacation of One's Own
Go on vacation alone. I put it on my bucket list because I knew that it would be a challenge. And I knew I needed it.
Three days in, I can clearly see that the challenge is a gift. I’m writing this from a meditation and writing retreat in the Colorado Rockies. It’s breezy but sunny and I’m at a picnic table in the “downtown” area of the Shambhala Mountain Center. One of the center’s cats is keeping me company.
It’s “writing time” during the retreat and we can go anywhere and write about anything. We can go for a walk, do a bit of reading, sit around and think, whatever gets our juices flowing, as long as it doesn’t involve talking. That’s a challenge for me as well. In general, I’d like to do more thinking and writing and less talking. Those around me would probably like that as well.
We started the day with breakfast, meditation and free-flow writing, where we handwrite in a journal three pages of something, anything – pretty much a stream of consciousness. Then, there are two and a half hours of writing time, which puts me where I am right now. After lunch, there will be more meditating and more writing, a group tea, a discussion on Buddhism or meditation, dinner, more meditating, reading aloud our works and gentle critiques from the group, and then 10:30 p.m. curfew. It’s a six-day program and I tacked on a day before and a day after. That makes for a lot of alone time. And that is something that just a few years ago, I couldn’t imagine ever putting myself through, much less considering it a gift.
Aside from a three-month internship one summer when I was in my 20s, I’ve never lived alone. I went from the Connecticut house where I grew up to college dorms and then apartments, where I always had roommates. After graduation, I spent some time in LA, renting a room in a house. Then, I moved in with the man who would become my husband. When we divorced after 16 years and our then 10-year old began spending two nights a week with him, it was the first time I was ever alone on a regular basis. I was so ill at ease that I would pick up the phone the moment I got in, would obsess about someone breaking in – was generally uncomfortable in my own home. In therapy at the time, I ended up working as much on that as I did on the end of my marriage.
I learned that it was my skin, not my house, in which I was uncomfortable. I learned to allow – even welcome – the thoughts and feelings and memories that slip in during moments of quiet. And I learned to create those moments more often, to take time away from the phone, e-mail, the Internet, the jam-packed schedule that for most of us is the status quo. Now, I actually look forward to having time alone, to think, to putter, to write, to meditate, to just be. In short, I’ve come to appreciate the pleasure of my own company.
But there still is that bucket list, so here I am in Colorado. In addition to the fact that I have my own room and hours of free time that I must spend alone, there is no music, no television, no cell phone service and Internet only for occasional e-mail checks and of course, to upload this post. (We’re not animals after all.) It’s a big change from how I spend most of my days back at home. It’s a big change from how I spend most of my vacations, too.
I’m reveling in the differences – the breathtaking scenery, the grace and wisdom of the bestselling author who is leading the retreat, some creative vegetarian and vegan meals (I’m going meatless the whole time) and the company of interesting folks on paths similar to my own.
While I’m here, I’m reading the latest book by the author who is leading the retreat, Susan Piver. This retreat center is one of her favorite places and she wrote some of “The Wisdom of a Broken Heart,” while she was here. I just finished the chapter on meditation. A couple of lines could have been written for me, at this very moment: “Meditation is the noble act of making friends with yourself, just as you are. ...When you sit and meditate, you are agreeing to hang out with yourself, exactly as you are.”
Three days in, I can clearly see that the challenge is a gift. I’m writing this from a meditation and writing retreat in the Colorado Rockies. It’s breezy but sunny and I’m at a picnic table in the “downtown” area of the Shambhala Mountain Center. One of the center’s cats is keeping me company.
It’s “writing time” during the retreat and we can go anywhere and write about anything. We can go for a walk, do a bit of reading, sit around and think, whatever gets our juices flowing, as long as it doesn’t involve talking. That’s a challenge for me as well. In general, I’d like to do more thinking and writing and less talking. Those around me would probably like that as well.
We started the day with breakfast, meditation and free-flow writing, where we handwrite in a journal three pages of something, anything – pretty much a stream of consciousness. Then, there are two and a half hours of writing time, which puts me where I am right now. After lunch, there will be more meditating and more writing, a group tea, a discussion on Buddhism or meditation, dinner, more meditating, reading aloud our works and gentle critiques from the group, and then 10:30 p.m. curfew. It’s a six-day program and I tacked on a day before and a day after. That makes for a lot of alone time. And that is something that just a few years ago, I couldn’t imagine ever putting myself through, much less considering it a gift.
Aside from a three-month internship one summer when I was in my 20s, I’ve never lived alone. I went from the Connecticut house where I grew up to college dorms and then apartments, where I always had roommates. After graduation, I spent some time in LA, renting a room in a house. Then, I moved in with the man who would become my husband. When we divorced after 16 years and our then 10-year old began spending two nights a week with him, it was the first time I was ever alone on a regular basis. I was so ill at ease that I would pick up the phone the moment I got in, would obsess about someone breaking in – was generally uncomfortable in my own home. In therapy at the time, I ended up working as much on that as I did on the end of my marriage.
I learned that it was my skin, not my house, in which I was uncomfortable. I learned to allow – even welcome – the thoughts and feelings and memories that slip in during moments of quiet. And I learned to create those moments more often, to take time away from the phone, e-mail, the Internet, the jam-packed schedule that for most of us is the status quo. Now, I actually look forward to having time alone, to think, to putter, to write, to meditate, to just be. In short, I’ve come to appreciate the pleasure of my own company.
But there still is that bucket list, so here I am in Colorado. In addition to the fact that I have my own room and hours of free time that I must spend alone, there is no music, no television, no cell phone service and Internet only for occasional e-mail checks and of course, to upload this post. (We’re not animals after all.) It’s a big change from how I spend most of my days back at home. It’s a big change from how I spend most of my vacations, too.
I’m reveling in the differences – the breathtaking scenery, the grace and wisdom of the bestselling author who is leading the retreat, some creative vegetarian and vegan meals (I’m going meatless the whole time) and the company of interesting folks on paths similar to my own.
While I’m here, I’m reading the latest book by the author who is leading the retreat, Susan Piver. This retreat center is one of her favorite places and she wrote some of “The Wisdom of a Broken Heart,” while she was here. I just finished the chapter on meditation. A couple of lines could have been written for me, at this very moment: “Meditation is the noble act of making friends with yourself, just as you are. ...When you sit and meditate, you are agreeing to hang out with yourself, exactly as you are.”
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