Butterfingers at the movies. Yes, I buy Butterfingers at the movies, and yes, I am the last person who should do so. But there you have it. The Butterfinger box they sell at the movies is about five inches by eight inches. There are fewer than ten mini-Butterfingers in the box. Less than half the box (I cut one open to check) is filled with the tasty morsels. Does Nestle think they are putting one over on me? How can I e-mail them to let them know I’m on to their misrepresentation of the amount of Butterfingers they provide at the movies? Are they trying to help me? Have they spoken to my trainer? Whatever. I just want you to know the box is not even half full.

The Hoses on Car Wash Vacuum Cleaners. I always—and I mean always—get the car wash vacuum cleaner whose hose has a hole in it. I have to find the hole, plug it with my hand, and then wrangle the rest of the hose with the other hand to vacuum my car. I’m not kidding. It has happened many times, and of course there is no one to talk to about it because the car washes are all self-serve. It may sound like a little thing to you, but now it’s at the point where anxiety about the imminent hose problem gets into my head early in the day when I’m planning to go to the car wash, and I have to talk myself off the hose cliff before I get there. Yes, I get that it’s stupid. Next.

Dunkin’ Dunuts Coffee. I love Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, and frankly, I think Starbucks lovers are nuts. Starbucks’ coffee is bitter, not rich like DD coffee. So it made me very happy when they started to sell their coffee beans so you could brew it at home. Well, it’s not the same, and I know they know it’s not the same. Don’t sell me coffee that is missing some key ingredient and get me all excited when you know full well it will not fulfill my expectations. I’m in marketing—you and I both know what I’m talking about.

Lane Change Spoilers.  You know who you are. I do the right thing by putting my blinker on before I move into your lane, and then you speed up so it’s dangerous for me to do it, for no reason other than you don’t want to be a Lane Share Bear. I never do this to others when they want to be in my lane. I really don’t. I slow down and let them in. I am a better person than you.

Handicapped Parking Frauds. I swear I want to make a citizen’s arrest. You may have a handicapped parking pass, but I can see when you get out of the car that you are not handicapped at all, you slug. You might want to walk the extra mile. Seriously. My recently deceased mother was on a walker, as is my beloved aunt, whom I go out with often. The spaces are filled with cars driven by people who don’t need them, and when I see my aunt not getting a space, it makes me mad.

That’s it. I don’t want to go on and on and on. I do realize these are meaningless pet peeves. That’s why they are peeves rather than grievances. I have already shed my irritation just by writing this. Have a nice day.

I have always been irked by the fact that most movies are made for the younger male demographic, ostensibly because they will buy the action figures that make so much more profit than box office receipts. This is true even though movie-goer demographics tilt toward women viewers. So then the figures come out, and The Hunger Games is one of the ten largest-grossing movie openings of all time. Oh, and shock of all shocks, guess what? The guys didn’t show up. According to Lionsgate, The Hunger Games attracted an audience that was 61 percent female. By comparison, The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn — Part 1 drew a crowd that was 80 percent female. Also, The Hunger Games was pretty evenly split by age—56 percent of the audience was at least twenty-five years old, and 44 percent were under twenty-five. The younger moviegoers were slightly more enthusiastic, however. Although the film received an overall “A” grade from CinemaScore participants, those under the age of 25 rated it an A+, while those over 25 gave it an A-. Okay, enough said. I’m just saying…

Back to the film itself. The sets and the costumes were great, man. When our heroine (I love that I can actually use the word heroine) enters the arena for the first time, staring into space with fire rocketing off her black unitard, I felt it. One of the best moments for a girl in sci-fi history for sure. When she covers her young friend’s body with flowers, fearless in the light of day, it made me proud of the sentimental part of us that does things to honor those we know were better than us. I loved that moment.

Okay, back to the problem. How can I possibly enjoy watching young people kill each other as part of a society that demands they do it or die themselves? Really Christine, who are you? Do you really think this movie is okay? Is the premise okay? No, no, no, but I must be authentic here, channel my Oprah (“be your best self”), and say that I loved it and I’m ashamed that I did. Does that mean that I’m a sicko inside? To be fair, I did not enjoy watching any of the scenes in which the Lord of the Flies mentality kicked it and they started roaming about in a frenzy, trying to get the numbers in their favor. I really didn’t. But everything in between was sheer empowerment.

Jennifer Lawrence is perfect as Katniss Everdeen. Katniss is a strong, loving, compassionate loner, driven by her own sense of integrity. She knows when to give in, and she knows when to stand her ground, and not because anyone tells her. She is a leader in the true sense of the word, leading from her inner sense of right and wrong. I love this character, and Jennifer Lawrence (whom I also loved in Winter’s Bones) is perfect for the role. She is young and not yet Julia-Robertsized, which means she is not yet Hollywoodized. Stick to this character type, young Jennifer. Do not let them shoot any more collagen into your lips than you have already (yes, I can see that you have done it). Pick your roles carefully. Stretch yourself, and do many different types of characters. You have a unique ability to tell your story without words. Don’t use it for money alone, or you will peak too early. I wish Katherine Hepburn were around to advise you about your next move. Alas.

I’m buying the second and third book this week. Thanks for a great weekend film. Go see it, but beware—you may learn something about yourself that you’ll wish you hadn’t learned.

There is an episode of The West Wing, (I learn as much from The West Wing as I do from Oprah) in which Ainsley Hayes, the only Republican on the White House staff, explains why she doesn’t support the Equal Rights Amendment. She changed my mind. Here is what she said, in a nutshell:

“I don’t support the Equal Rights Amendment because it’s humiliating. Do we need a new amendment declaring that I am equal to a man under the law? I am mortified to discover there’s reason to believe I wasn’t equal before. I am a citizen of this country; I am not a special subset in need of your protection. I do not need to have my rights handed down to me by a bunch of old white men. The same Article 14 that protects you protects me, and I went to law school just to make sure.” 

Don’t you just love Ainsley?

The Trayvon case came up in conversation yesterday. Someone said, “It’s the black community that is up in arms.”

“No it’s not,” said I. “Social media has spread this thing out so that everyone is upset, not just people of color.”

“Well, look at the marches in Florida; they are mostly black people.”

I started to argue the point of who is upset about the case, and then I stopped dead in my tracks. Who cares if the victim was black or white? Who cares if the shooter was white? A young person, walking on public streets in this country, was gunned down by a shooter who says he was acting in self-defense—against a teenager who was armed with a soda and a bag of Skittles. And to top it off, there may be a law that could get this poor excuse for a human being off. Trayvon’s killer wasn’t even detained after the shooting!

The fact that it probably wouldn’t have happened if Trayvon were white is abominable. It is so awful that it obscures the real point—when, oh when, will these people, my equals and yours, no longer have to fight for their inalienable rights?

Trayvon should be alive today. He was an American citizen who should have been allowed to walk the streets of his country without fear of being shot. Not because he’s black, not because the shooter was white, but because he’s a person, no different from you or me. A person.

I think one of the worst things that Reed talked about today was a newspaper editorial by a father about what he needed to teach his twelve-year-old black son. It included things like:

“Always pay close attention to your surroundings, especially if you are in an affluent neighborhood where black folks are few. Understand that even though you are not a criminal, some people might assume you are, especially if you are wearing certain clothes.

“Never argue with police, but protect your dignity and take pride in humility. When confronted by someone with a badge or a gun, do not flee, fight, or put your hands anywhere other than up.”

Perhaps most upsetting of all was his advice to his son to be humble when trying to defend himself verbally during encounters with police officers. Really? I never felt the need to tell my daughter any of those things. I taught her to run to the police if she were feeling threatened in any way.

Trayvon was entitled to protection and freedom to walk with his Skittles anywhere he chose because he was a member of a club called the United States of America. This ridiculous house, divided by such crazy irrelevant adjectives, had better get it together. I don’t want that message to be diluted by considerations of color, party affiliation, or religion. Trayvon was an American Citizen. Say it with respect, please.

From what I have read, Mr. Zimmerman appears to be a poor excuse for a citizen. Self-appointed protector of the neighborhood, my ass. He must not be given added protection under the laws of my country because of the color of his skin. Anything less than a charge of murder one will be unacceptable to me, not because I’m white or black, but because I know the difference between right and wrong, and because we all live under the same laws as citizens of this country.

He called a Georgetown Law School student a slut and a prostitute. Now he’s worth my words. I have a daughter in law school. This is no longer about politics. It’s about mothers. Daughters. Sisters. Aunts. Girlfriends. And yes, it’s also about fathers, respectful men, brothers, husbands, and uncles. It’s about the fact that someone is sponsoring this monster’s voice on the air, and I, for one, am no longer willing to use any products—I mean any products—made by companies that pay money to sponsor him. And I call for all of us to finally take a stand. Just this once. Just do it!

I don’t agree with Ms. Fluke’s point of view, at least not all of it. I do agree that birth control when prescribed for things like ovarian cysts, etc. should be covered by insurance. And I do see a double standard. Vasectomies are covered by insurance, and as far as I can see, they are about birth control, aren’t they? But let’s leave that debate for another blog. This is about calling someone a whore because you want ratings. Calling her a prostitute to incite hatred. Telling her to put sex tapes on the Internet is just a way to make the lowest among us laugh as they are driving in their cars and keep them from changing the station. When I hear Rush’s tapes replayed, not one of them contains any insightful commentary that raises the level of discourse. And please, do not get me started about how the GOP lets him get away with this because they are afraid of him. Really? But again, I digress. This is about taking charge of what you buy and from whom. This is about respecting your money and the power it wields.

Here is the statement from David Friend, who runs the online backup company Carbonite. Mr. Friend says on his company’s web site that Carbonite will no longer advertise with Limbaugh, despite the host’s rare admission of regret.

“No one with daughters the age of Sandra Fluke—and I have two—could possibly abide the insult and abuse heaped upon this courageous and well-intentioned young lady. Mr. Limbaugh, with his highly personal attacks on Miss Fluke, overstepped any reasonable bounds of decency. Even though Mr. Limbaugh has now issued an apology, we have nonetheless decided to withdraw our advertising from his show. We hope that our action, along with the other advertisers who have already withdrawn their ads, will ultimately contribute to a more civilized public discourse.”

Carbonite is an online computer backup company. I just moved my backup to Carbonite because they took this action, and I wrote Mr. Friend a letter and told him that is why he has my business.

Thanks to my fellow blogger, Malia Litman for the following list of advertisers. Keep in mind that since this list was published, some of them may already have pulled their advertising from Limbaugh’s show, as Carbonite has, but call them all anyway. Ms. Litman writes:

In my post this morning I provided a list of companies who reportedly advertised on Rush Limbaugh’s show. I have personally called them, and this is my report of what I have learned.

1. Pro-flowers: Their sales line was so busy that I was automatically disconnected.

2. Sleep Train: No longer advertising

3. e-Harmony: No longer advertising

4. Carbonite: Carbonite has not discontinued their support of the show. The representative I spoke with simply said that they advertised with a wide variety of shows, and that the views expressed did not represent theirs. I explained that by advertising on his show they are making it possible for him to use a public radio show to give voice to his foul and distasteful comments. You may be interested in e-mailing a manager at their corporate office to share your views at: dfriend@carbonite.com.

5. Sleep Number Bed: I was only able to leave a message. They can be reached at investorrelations@selectcomfort.com.

6. Oreck: They are still advertising on the Limbaugh show, and more people need to let them know that we will not buy or support their products. You can reach them at 1-800-289-5888.

7. Midwest Life: I was advised that they have not advertised with Limbaugh for six years.

8. Auto Zone: I spoke with “Art,” who was not aware of the controversy. He indicated he would “look into it,” but he may need some encouragement to realize that this is important. You can reach Auto Zone at:

901-495-7185; Fax: 901-495-8374

investor.relations@autozone.com

UPDATE:  ”Brenda” with Auto Zone called and indicated they do not advertise with the Rush Limbaugh show.

9. Legal Zoom: They indicated they are “looking into this matter.” You can reach them at 800-773-0888 to encourage them to look a little faster.

10. Citrix Online: This company is well aware of the problem, and the gentleman I spoke with shared his personal feelings of support for all those complaining. He indicated the “marketing team” is working on a press release, and they have my blog information, so hopefully we will be hearing from them soon. Until that time you can reach them at 805-690-6400.

11. American Forces Network: I contacted various numbers and got a message at each. The number that I would recommend you call is 301-222-6236, which is the number for T.V. and radio show contacts. You can also reach them by e-mail at American Forces Network@MyAFN.net.

12. Mission Pharmacal Company: They don’t have a customer service department that is open on Fridays. When you go to their web site, it is so busy, that you can’t get the site to load on your computer. Mission Pharmacal Company is the maker of Citrical, a calcium supplement primarily used by women to prevent Osteoporosis. I used to take Citrical supplements every day, but will no longer use their products until they stop advertising on Limbaugh’s show. Bennett Kennedy is the Citracal Product Manager, and you can reach him at 800-531-3333 by going to the company directory and putting in “ken.”

13. Life Quotes: They previously advertised on Limbaugh’s show, but no longer do.

14. Lending Tree: I contacted their office at 877-768-3983. I was advised by Donna that as of 2012 Lending Tree is no longer advertising with the Rush Limbaugh show. Donna was not aware of the exact time they discontinued their advertisements, but as of today they are no longer advertising with him.

Thus the following companies need further encouragement to discontinue their advertising on the Rush Limbaugh show:

#6-Oreck, #8 Auto Zone, #9 Legal Zoom, #10 Citrix Online, #12 Mission Pharmacal

So, this is it Freesia Laners. Game time. Moment of truth. Can you spare a few minutes?

I had to drive five hours today, which called for a book on tape. I stopped at Barnes and Noble to see what they had from Robbins. The only one they had was Shape Your Destiny, which was from 2002, but I figured it was better than five hours of Barry Manilow on my iTunes, so I bought it. I listened to a good chunk of it while driving, and I was taken by his explanation of Jodi Foster’s struggle in Silence of the Lambs. I have blogged about my love of that movie, and I’m certain that had it come out when I was in my teens, I would have become Clarice for sure. I admired the way Jodi Foster’s character worked through her fears.

So Tony starts explaining how Clarice’s enemy (Hannibal) actually helped her, and how it was her self-doubt that needed to be resolved. He is right. There were several strong men in that movie, all of whom helped her be her best self. Not one woman in that movie was a player for her. (I swear I have amazing girlfriends who love me and elevate me so that I can be my best self. I swear!) Clarice’s growth in that movie was prompted by the male characters. Hannibal and Jack Crawford both challenged her to rise above mediocrity. Amazing.

So then I started to think about other movies I love. Pride and Prejudice. The Bodyguard. An American President. Pretty Woman. Yikes, thought I. All are movies that feature strong men and strong women. Could this be me? Strong? Remember the scene in Pretty Woman when Richard Gere tells Julia Roberts she has potential? Remember in The Bodyguard where Whitney (sick of her now, by the way) lets herself go and is taken care of by Kevin Costner, but she conquers her own fears and shows up at the Academy Awards?

I was talking about this with a friend who said her favorite movies of this type were Wuthering Heights and Out of Africa. She is more that type of woman for sure. I pointed out that her type of woman is a little softer than Clarice. Vivian and Rachel Merin, for God’s sake.

“Well,” she said, “Silence of the Lambs isn’t your number one movie, is it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh.”

In his book, Tony questions the fact that we rent and watch the same movies over and over again. (You do not want to know how many times I’ve seen Silence of the Lambs. You really don’t.)

His explanation is that we know what to expect in our favorite movies. There is something of ourselves in them—our inner struggle with our best and worst selves, and the safety of watching that struggle play out with an ending that we know. He also points out the absurdity of watching the same movie over and over again, and I know he’s right. It’s time for me to stop watching Jodi play Clarice—and time for me to be Clarice. Time to take a risk. Time to believe I can do something I’ve been avoiding doing out of fear of failure.

And that is my intention.

I thought I would pass this epiphany on to you. It never occurred to me that my favorite movies would have a common thread, or that I watch them because they reflect my best self. So how about you? Pick your favorite three movies, the ones you could watch over and over again, and see what it is you wish to be. And then stop just watching them on TV.

But I have recently added a new car to my fleet. My name is Christine, and I bought a Prius. I wish to be a stronger member of the “I want to leave a smaller carbon footprint on the world” club, and since ice cream and my advancing years are making my physical person larger, I’m working on making my footprint smaller. Membership in this club calls for thoughtful spending and usage of resources, so I followed my little sister’s lead and bought a Prius.

When I was test driving it, the very nice and patient sales person, a friend of my cousin Cliff’s, explained that the correct way to drive a Prius is to hit the gas pedal gently, which allows for slower acceleration and less gas consumption. They even put this gauge on the dashboard that shows you how many miles per gallon you are getting, so you can actually see that the slower you accelerate, the less gas you use. At its best, a Prius can get 100 miles per gallon. This is a good thing… or so you would think. But truthfully, it’s beginning to get on my nerves, to say nothing of the other drivers behind me. I now glance from the road to the gauge over and over again throughout any driving expedition, trying to keep that line over 50 miles to the gallon. This was fun for a day or two, but not so much now. And while I grant you my Mario Andretti ways were probably not in the best interest of the environment, my ridiculous granny-driving is greatly reducing my billable hours per week.

Then there is the problem with the sound of the engine. The engine makes no sound, and there is no key in the ignition, which is another thing that seemed like a great idea when I bought the car, but is now a nightmare. I keep leaving the car running overnight. When you stop and put the car in park, there is no sound, which makes it easy to forget to press the “power off” button if you are on the phone (hands-free of course), or just thinking about important things like whether you remembered to TIVO Oprah’s latest Master Class. How many times have I left it on, you ask? I’m almost sixty and my memory—especially short-term—doesn’t serve me well, but I can safely say it’s more than five, and I have had the car for three months. Okay, that’s a lie, I have had the car two months.

But the biggest problem centers around interaction with people. I am not a friendly person by nature. I realize that sounds bad, and I don’t mean it to be, but I am busy trying to be a strong, thoughtful friend and family member, and time is a precious commodity. That means I don’t have a lot of time to make new friends in parking lots, which they never mentioned when I bought the car is a “benefit” of belonging to the “I Own A Prius” club. Membership automatically comes with purchase; it’s not opt-in, and unless you want to feel really bad about yourself as a part of the human race, there is no easy way to resign.

“Oh, I see you have a Prius. I’m thinking of getting one. Do you like it?”

“Oh, I have a Prius too! Don’t you love yours? Can you believe the gas mileage?”

“Oh, would you mind if I got inside? I just want to see if it feels as small as it looks from the outside!”

This last one is especially upsetting, because you are not supposed to let strangers in your car, so I always get out of the car and say, “Try the driver’s side.” This is problematic because I always forget to turn the car off, especially when I’m distracted by someone at my side window, and they could easily drive away and leave me standing on the corner dialing 911—assuming I remembered to remove my cell phone, which hooks into the car’s telephone system.

This last thing I am about to tell you is a secret because it’s really bad and I hate to share it with the world, but here it is. I was really feeling low a few weeks ago, sitting in my car listening to Adele, and sure enough, when I parked, there was someone waiting to ask me about the car. I pretended to be deaf. Yes, deaf. I know, I know. But that is what I did, and it wasn’t until later that I realized that since I was listening to Adele at a zillion decibels, they likely figured out that I was lying. To say nothing of the fact that I no longer live in LA, where the likelihood of twice running into someone you met in a parking lot is a lot lower than it is here in Cape Cod, where only I and a few others choose to live in the dead of winter. I’m sorry, and I will never do it again.

But I do feel good when I get into my Prius. I do. I feel proud of myself. I am happy that I am saving about as much as I am paying for the car in less gas used—or at least my feeble financial mind thinks so. All in all, it’s one of the best purchases I’ve ever made, and I am happy to be a part of the club. I just wish I could be a silent member.

As I watched the Grammy performances this past weekend, I had a few epiphanies. First, it takes a lot to perform at the Grammys. Beyoncé and Tina Turner worked on their performances before they went on stage. They honed their dance moves. They synchronized their harmonies and they practiced with the other people on stage who backed them up. Second, they spent a lot less time with their thank-yous (and their self accolades disguised as thank-yous) than actors do at the Academy Awards, and the show was all the better for it.

Then I thought about the Academy Awards, and how women prepare for them by deciding what to wear and whom to accept freebies from in exchange for hawking their wares. Buccellati Jewelers was once a marketing client of mine, and I can tell you that getting an Oscar nominee to wear a piece of jewellery is the Holy Grail. And I mean holy. So then they get up there and do their rehearsed and practiced thank-you speeches—some of which are ostensibly off the cuff, but really aren’t.

“Oh,” I said to myself, “no wonder you like the Grammys better these days.” And I thought of a fabulous idea: instead of ninety seconds of thank-yous during the Academy Awards, how about we ask the actors to get up and do a monologue chosen through a Facebook Contest? Seriously, let them perform the way the musicians do. Let them practice for their moment in front of a few hundred million fans, and let them perform the ‘craft’ they constantly refer to with such reverence in their thank-yous.

In other words, how about they sing for the Oscar Statue’s supper? Get up there and wow me with something from a past Academy-Award winning movie. Give me thirty seconds of a rendition of Liza Minnelli’s phone booth monologue, which was the finest moment in her career. Or how about Gregory Peck’s plea to all of humanity in To Kill a Mockingbird? Give me something that entertains me during the awards, instead of something that entertains you. Strut your stuff with the same pride and earnest effort that your musician counterparts do. Sir Paul McCartney and Bruce and the rest of the gang who sweated up there Sunday night worked hard for their money.

So increase your ratings—and my admiration—and show me; show all the world why you deserve the golden statue that seems to mean so very much to you.