Am*Bitch*ous

Our mothers did not grow up with Madonna. And neither did our dads for that matter.  My mother used to polish the copper bottoms of her pans (she still cooks with the pans she received as a wedding gift, and they still gleam).  She was industrious, smart, and restless. Once her children were grown, she fell into the underemployment any 50's-style mom encounters when they no longer have to wipe bums and wash bibs.  During this chapter in family development, uber-intelligent women got depressed out of sheer boredom and experienced a signnificant lack of self-worth (think: Betty Draper). By the time I (the youngest of four) was in the eighth grade, my mom built a career on her common sense and her high school diploma. Near the end of her professional life, she made a choice to leave a job as a hospital administrator that no longer suited her, only to be headhunted the next day to lead the marketing department for a large health organization.  She was calling the shots in her career.  And my monkey mind can't help but wonder, what if my mother had grown up with Madonna?  Would she have been president of the free world? A leader of a mass movement? A writer?  An inventor?  The Martha or Oprah of her generation? What would have become of us, her four children that she fed, clothed, and educated?  If she had grown up with Madonna, would she have provided the three square meals that nourished us in our childhood?  Would we have gone to church every Sunday? Would the linens have been washed every week?  Would my dad have stayed home and parented more?  Since a few impressionable years during adolescence were heavily influenced by Madonna and because  I struggle with the guilt associated with full time work outside the home since my children were infants,  I can't figure out whether Madonna's cultural influence on my generation is a curse or a blessing.  So here it lives as a lessing. 

My mother's generation had its idols (Marilyn, Judy).  There are certainly tragic female celebrities now (Brittany, Lindsey,) but besides maybe Bette Davis?, Eleanor Roosevelt?, my mom lacked many role models that were unapologetically in control of their own lives. When Madonna broke into the cultural scene of the MTV 80's, it wasn't clear that she was going to influence a generation of women; everyone thought she was a tart, selling her sexuality; there was nothing new about the oldest profession.  What was new was her seductive recipe of sexuality, financial power, and unfaltering self-esteem, timely delivered during the "material" "me" generation of the 80's.  Madonna might have been a whore, but she was no a victim.  I didn't even like Madonna or her music very much.  And she certainly was not the only powerful woman in history.  Still, I can't deny the impact she had on my girlhood. One might compare it to a boy maturing during Elvis's reign.  Whether you liked Elvis or not, it was going to shape your worldview. Similar to the fervor over Elvis's sexuality,  all of the the mothers in the 80's lamented that their daughters were glorifying the archetypal whore.  My mother, who's house smelled like the polished wood in church, knew there was no immunity to a force like Madonna.  There was such power in her persona; she tapped into the assuredness of a man and acted with a male's sense of entitlement.  She was 'am-bitch-ous.' Her personal process (which was witnessed publicly) was intoxicating.  Sure, Virginia Woolf and Anne Morrow Lindbergh did a bit of "public processing", but neither of them grossed 8 million dollars for selling  pictures of their pussy. 

I heard Lynard Skynard's "What's Your Name Little Girl" and Rod Stewart's "Tonight's the Night" on the car radio yesterday.  Imagine if Madonna had been a role model for the female ingenues in these songs.  The groupie in Skynard's song might have swindled them into a record contract that made her rich and left them penniless.  Or what of Rod's 'virgin child' that he tried to deflower?  She probably would have gone P90X on him or made him go down her first. Imagine if Rod sang that song to a pubescent Pink?  She would have rolled his ass or gave him the best blow job of his life. Who knows?  Madonna made girls' behavior unpredictable.  She changed the script.  Roman Polanski's underage honey pot? That little bitch would have made that pederast sign a pre-nup, found some hillbilly state where they could legally marry and then she'd divorce the shit out of his bank account.  None of the above scenarios would be possible without Madonna. If I had more time, I would convince you that Hillary Rodham Clinton wouldn't be Secretary of State if it weren't for Madonna.  She is the original Bitch, which is a word that we women have reclaimed, by the way. 

This all sounds like a blessing.  But when something is gained there is surely something lost. What have I lost?  There is a certain greed, narcissism, and control that comes with being am*bitch*ous.  How does my desire to fulfill my needs affect my relationships?  How does my desire to achieve my goals affect my parenting? Greed, narcissism, and control are not character traits you want to model for your children.  And, if every woman I know, lived like Madonna, who would do the laundry and mop the floors and wipe the toothpaste constellations from the mirror?  I supposed I'd hire out.  I'm also not sure if I appreciate being know as a "Formerly" (as in "formerly hot"; see last week's Sunday Times) or a Cougar, or a MILF.  And though I fully embrace the "public processing" popular for women in my demographic, I'm not sure our male counterparts can tolerate the 'Eat Pray Love' model of finding one's self.  Well, at least my male counterpart can't.  He considers Gilbert to be a bit self-absorbed. (I should note, that in a very complimentary moment, my husband, upon kissing me, said "Baby, you so ambitchous", thereby coining the phrase).   Men following their ambition to the point of downright adventure has been a cornerstone of masculinity (Jack London, Ernest Hemingway).  Now that women of a certain age in the U.S. are getting a taste of that pursuit, how can we responsibly walk the tightrope between empowerment and entitlement?  How can we embody the grace of Audrey Hepburn in our mothering, the tenacity of Jane Goodall in our careers, and the liberation of Madonna in our bedrooms?  (I shamelessly agree with Ludacris: I want to be a 'lady in the street and a freak in the bed.') The next sexual revolution must be a men's movement; Gen X men must reflect on Madonna's influence on their adolescent development because households can only sustain so much ambition.  Men must know that we do want it all and though we've seen women, like Madonna, have it all, we haven't associated the costs in achieving it.  This is new territory for us all.  How will men respond to women's new way of being in the world?