Reaping the Rewards

Due to pricing, scheduling, or some other bizarre circumstance, I’ve found myself occasionally having to fly Delta Airlines a few times over the last few years. Overall, it was a normal experience – for example, the time I wished gonorrhea on the guy in Orlando airport because he was trying to engage the other passengers about how wacky the security set up was (how dare he question convention!), each one of whom stared at him like they wished he would shut his fucking yap (wait, that was just me thinking that). Aside from the wonderful experiences I had utilizing their air travel service, I was also rewarded with a chunk of Delta’s Sky Miles®. Given that I fly Delta about as often as I use tobacco (i.e. extremely rare), I thought little of this at the time. For years I never heard from Delta, save for the occasional credit card solicitation. Lo and behold, many moons later, I received a certificate stating that I had a chunk of SkyMiles® sitting in my account, just itching to be used, along with an order form with a selection of about 75 magazines. “Joy!”, I responded, knowing that soon, I would be the proud recipient of the fruits of my labor with Delta – three new periodicals whose content I ingest will likely not exceed 5% of available content per collective volume and issue (as well as my name on mailing lists of the most whimsical variety!).

Now, I am a simple man – I receive Sports Illustrated, Internal Auditor (Warning: Geek), as well as The Onion and the occasional issue of Us Weekly (I don’t read it, I only buy it for the pictures of people pushing shopping carts and carrying their cell phones, clutches, PDA’s and latte in one hand and a dog leash or a stroller in the other – fascinating creatures!), and that’s about all I can handle (see: currently reading February issue of aforementioned Geek Mag). So I deferred to Michelle and said, “Michelle, my only true love, upon the day I met you, I swore to the heavens that if they sent me my angel, I would give her the very foundation to which I am anchored, as well as the world that was beautiful as she would have ever hoped it might be. That being said, I present you with this choice of magazines, and the choice, my dear…is yours!” After declaring me as protector, provider and lover of all that is glorious in the world and universe that surrounds the love of humanity, she selected a few magazines (dropping 7,500 SkyMiles in the process), dropped the fucker in the mail, and thus initiated the Waiting Game.

Imagine my pleasant surprise a few weeks later when I received a copy of Teen Vogue in the day’s mail – it’s the magazine that teaches girls how to read grown-up Vogue when they grow up. This month’s issue features on the cover my…drumroll…cymbal!! Official Hilary Duff Replacement Until She’s 18 Then All Bets Are Off: Elisha Cuthbert (note: Hilary Duff 18th Birthday Extravaganza – Coming September 2005!). Oh, and she’s pictured with some guy named Chad that she stars with in House of Wax, and the two stars are there to tell Teen Vogue about true love. Well, given the demographic in our household, Michelle and I immediately realized the benefit (or lack thereof) we were going to get from this fine publication. At any rate, it serves as a window into the mind of the 12-14 year-old girl…and it’s fascinating. Among the approximately 207 articles about fashion, there exists a features section, containing a rather alarming piece, about how “the Internet has made almost everything easier, faster, and more intense – including bullying.”

Oooh, catfight! The article begins by regaling us with the tale of an 8th Grader from New York City thought it would be a good idea to make “a provocative, sexy video of herself” and e-mail it to some dude she had a crush on. Shocking as it may be for you to believe, her video was forwarded on and on and on, so much so that I might surmise that one of my nine loyal readers has it in their possession! Who is this wretched boy who would disparage this young girl by showcasing her wares to millions of Internet users across America? The answer is: why did you make the video in the first place, my dear? Where are your parents???? It then goes on to tell us that more than half of 9 to 13 year-olds “have either been cyberbullied or been cyberbullied, or had a close friend that was.” Wow, what are the odds? Given that a vast majority of children aged 9 to 13 are prone to such behavior just because they are ignorant, I imagine the number is truly higher, but that the writers of Teen Vogue relied on the fact that since American students are among the worst in Mathematics they might not understand a fraction or percentage other than 1-in-2. Next comes the macabre yarn about Marissa, a girl who became a target of the cyberbullies after cyberdefending her friend in cyberspace, who told her to kill herself…which of course led her to “cut [her] wrist down to the bone!” Good God. This poor kid ends up having to be a home schooled recluse because she’s getting railed in a chat room. Again, parents? Anywhere? Then there was the e-account of the fistfight that became a kid with a gun that became that kid’s bringing a gun to school tomorrow that became no one came to school the next day. It’s good to know that fear can still run rampant when given the chance.

After this uplifting experience had me wishing I could cut my wrists to the bone, I flipped pages in search of a diversion – some lighthearted fare to take my mind off of the cyberbullies. Friends, look no further than “You’ve Got Male” (that’s a pun, or play on words), featuring pictures of stars who, “get on the fast track with sleek and chic motorcross jackets (ugh…I nearly vomited from the odor of the horrid perfume insert…bleeeech!). Yes, everyone from Model Jamie Dornan to Usher to Jesse McCartney wears motorcross jackets. Keep up the good work, I guess.

Feeling a bit flushed, both from the wretched smells emitting from the magazine as well as the dizzying array of teen fashion model pictorials, I went in search of guidance, preferably that of the astrological sense (astro: of the stars; logical: logical). Here’s what the stars have in store for me in love, life, and fashion:

“Got your flight to Vegas booked? Luck is your copilot this month, and your winning streak is unbeatable. Big risks will pay off on all fronts, including your love life. Plan the party of the season and invite that new flame you’re dreaming about fanning. It’s a non stop brouhaha until the 29th, when you can finally take a well-deserved breather.”

So basically, I should go to Las Vegas with a check from my second mortgage closing and hit the blackjack tables, Asian female dealers be damned, and offer a cocktail waitress $10,000 to spend the week with me, leading to a cocaine and Ritalin-fueled bender that will come crashing to a halt next Friday, when I’m bludgeoned to death by an bouncer at a seedy bordello. Thanks, Teen Vogue Astrology Department!

What did I learn from this whole experience? Well, I learned that Elisha Cuthbert likes to eat out and go to the clubs, but gracefully (she tries to stay as low-key as possible). I learned that you can buy a piece of wicker and two straps of pink leather with the name Kate Spade stamped on it for about $245. I learned that Hollywood is simply full of so-called “hot moms”. I learned that you can get a sunless tan that is as individual as you are. And above all, I learned that I probably have no business reading a magazine with the word “teen” in the title. Now, where’s that issue of Seventeen?

Until Next Time…