Possumblog

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.


Friday, January 04, 2002

I'm still trying to work around the posting problems of the Great Blogger Crash (GBC from here on out) so that you can continue to read and enjoy the goodness of possum. (As if anyone else reads this stuff!)

There is Nothin' Like a Dame!
A little more than halfway down the page is an interesting short recollection of life as a Red Cross volunteer in New Guinea during World War II, written by Pattie Smith Crocker, a native of Birmingham. The story summary relates that she “had a successful career in the fashion industry. She has been a buyer for Loveman's in Birmingham and Pirie Scott in Chicago. She was ready-to-wear manager of Parisian's Eastwood store for l3 years. She is retired and leads an active volunteer life.” Her recollections are wonderful, even if she refers to “bug juice” a few too many times. What is most telling about her generation, and I guess about ours, is her total lack of snotty self-loathing, sophistry, and false irony. Her matter-of-factness about life under fire is wonderfully refreshing. No wondering why the Japanese hated us, no caustic criticism of men in uniform whose job it was to kill the Japanese, no sense of defeat, no moral uncertainty about the release of atomic bombs. And a frankly nonfeminist reference to decking herself out in a “light blue, very clinging uniform dress” as she worked as the announcer for shipboard boxing matches. In fact she seemed to enjoy the reaction such garb elicited from the men on board! How very shocking! She didn’t even see fit to complain about her gratuituous sexual objectification and the misogyny of those evil killing men! Well, like they say in South Pacific there really is nothing like a dame. Young “womyn” of America, if you want someone to study in your college’s Women’s Study program, start with Pattie Crocker and all those WACs and WAVEs she served with. They are ten times the feminists any of your professors will ever be, and look good in a dress to boot. (By the way, Mrs. Crocker, if you ever read this, I sure would appreciate a photo of you in that dress!)


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