Humor

The Real Differences Between Men and Women

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(Originally published as a column in The Beach Reporter.)

There is one thing that has always bothered me about the movement for equality of the sexes. It amazes me that people think that men and women are basically the same creatures, and that we should keep striving for a sort of unisex utopia.

I applaud the gains women have achieved as a result of the women’s movement. I’m happy that men are more involved with their families, and are encouraged to open up more emotionally. It’s wonderful that men and women can exchange some of their best traits, hopefully becoming more well-rounded, fulfilled individuals.

But the basic fact is that men and women ARE different. There are certain traits common to each sex that have been genetically predetermined, and no political or social force is likely to change this. Continue reading →

The Vacation Jinx

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(Originally appeared in The Beach Reporter on 4/22/93.)

Every family has its vacation horror stories; its own quirky idiosyncrasies that haunt them throughout their lives. One family I know always misses their airplane. Another always has horrible weather no matter where they go, no matter what time of year.

In our case, our family is jinxed by one of our family members getting ill either just before we are about to leave for a vacation, or getting injured or sick while on vacation.

A case in point: As I write this column (at home), I am supposed to be on a plane returning from Maui, where I was supposed to have spent the past week having a relaxing dream vacation with my family. A vacation that we have been fantasizing about and talking about and shopping for for weeks on end.

At 6:30 p.m., the night before we were to leave, I ran a bath for my son. Our suitcases and carry-on bags were packed, a neighbor had Swimmy and Astro (our goldfish), another neighbor was in charge of feeding Edward (our cat), and the newspapers and mail were on hold. I was dreaming of pina coladas. and of reading an entire book. In the midst of my reverie I checked in on my son, who was sitting in the tub itching. Yes, itching. Itching red bumps, which my experienced eyes told me were chicken pox, and which had literally materialized out of nowhere.
I almost couldn’t believe it, but then I remembered. The Stevenson jinx. Continue reading →

Ocean City, New Jersey/ 2011

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(Changing it up from the usual essay post. Originally published in the Philadelphia Inquirer)

OCEAN CITY, NEW JERSEY 2011

Look at the Polish woman in the black turban and hoop earrings;
her shapeless black swimsuit ends in a flirty skirt.
How do I know she is Polish, you might ask –
because she looks like all my aunts.
This must be her daughter, sullen and tattooed
and her granddaughter, a princess in pink.

Here comes Anna Nicole in a leopard print bikini.
I thought she died, but here she is in Ocean City.
You may be surprised to know
that she is now married to Tony Soprano.

And now comes the young father
wondering how he ended up as pack mule,
bound to fulfill every command of the three females
who precede him, regal in their turquoise and purple Crocs.

Oh, Grandma and Grandpa, how did you get so large?
You are like two barges
moving slowly along the sand.
Was it decades of unabated sticky buns
or the simple accretion of years?
Like two massive tree trunks
where each successive ring of growth
is proof of something.

In Denial Over Bathing Suit Season

Kathy StevensonLeave a comment

(Originally published in the Philadelphia Inquirer on 5/19/07.)

The most dreaded time of year is almost upon us. No, I’m not talking about the holidays that stretch in an eternal loop from Halloween through New Year’s Day, although I’m sure we’ll all be getting gift catalogs soon.

I’m referring to something even more harrowing. I’m talking about bathing suit season. Now, don’t get me wrong – I love summer. Summer is actually my very favorite time of year. There’s nothing I enjoy more than plopping myself on the beach for the day with a good novel and a thermos of iced tea. The problem is that in order to really enjoy the beach (or the pool) you have to wear a bathing suit.

I usually begin my annual search for a new swimsuit just before spring break. At that point, since I haven’t seen the sun in about seven months, my skin tone is somewhere between anemic and pasty. I’m afraid to go to the tanning salon in the winter months because of skin cancer, although as my sister Avis points out, I think nothing of baking out in the sun at the beach for hours on end. Sisters can be so annoying at times.

Continue reading →