I used to sit on her La-Z-Boy, eating her black licorice (which I hated, but swore that I loved simply because she did), watching soaps with her, because this is what was part of our routine.
As a five year old child, I knew to equate Patti Austin and James Ingram's "Baby Come to Me" with Holly and Robert Scorpio, I knew that Adam Chandler was a force to be reckoned with, and Tina and Cord were too hot to last. My grandma would doze in her chair, and I would sit with my crossword puzzle, awaiting the theme song of General Hospital, which started with a mournful siren and not the silly 90210-esque character montages of today.
It was a time of simplicity...being a child, being in the 1980s, thinking one could escape merely by watching escapist television. I think it is this fact that allowed me to justify watching these soaps for decades after this. As a teenager, I taped them every day on our VHS and watched them while i did my homework, my heart hurting for the love I had for Sonny Corinthos and Jasper Jax, and getting more involved in the rape trials on One Life to Live than in half the drama in my own school. It became a constant, something I always knew would be there. They played during the holidays, they never took vacations or left me when I needed them. When my beloved grandmother died, General Hospital stayed, and while all the characters had long since left the show, it never ceased being "our" show. As I got older, and my children started coming into the world, the shows made less sense to me. The same storylines were often recycled and were becoming more absurd and unbelievable by the week. I stuck it out as long as I could, for as long as I knew that GH would start at 3pm on ABC, I would know that somewhere, anywhere, my grandma was alongside me. I endured endless teasing and scoffing from my mother, who never understood the idea of a Soap Opera, and my husband, who equated watching soaps as being one of those cliched housewives eating bonbons.
When my son was born, life got crazier, and trying to keep up with the soaps on tivo became a chore. So I would watch the Friday episodes on Soapnet, and more often than not, got the entire gist of the storyline from these catchup nights. Then, it became once a month, then not at all.
I was reading an article today on CNN about a fan outcry because of the cancellation of As the World Turns and Guiding Light, neither of which were my soaps. Women were bemoaning the loss of people they considered to be friends, and the loss of a staple TV show.
What they are really mourning, as I think I understand more than many of the people who probably think of this as nonsense, is the end of an era. The end of a time when society embraced stay at home mothers, and provided them with coping mechanisms for long lonely days and difficult marriages. The end of a time when being green, and being fiscally responsible, and sexually chaste were not the headlines, and viewers were not ridiculed for finding enjoyment in such shallow behavior. The end of a time when all it took was a siren and an old love song to bring back a long gone beloved family member, if even for an hour.
I empathize with these women, who are all living the same day to day dilemmas, struggles, joys and ecstasies as myself and most of my friends. I empathize their need for that constant, when the world outside the front door is tumultuous and unknown. I empathize at the feeling of powerlessness, when something you have held dear for decades can be so eaily taken away for the mere sake of advertising dollars and ratings. But I also know that as a stay at home mother, it is our responsibility, no our RIGHT to abandon the age old labels and cliches that are placed on us. We do not need to cower because women who work out side the home think of us as lazy or spoiled, or because very little is done on the political level to assist families who choose to keep a parent with their children. We do not need soap operas to escape, because the mere fact that we get to be at home, watching our children grow from moment to moment is nothing to escape. I have found that turning off the television during the daytime has allowed me to hear so many things I would have missed otherwise. Babies laughing in their cribs, Lucas rifling his little hands through his lego bucket, in search of the one piece that would complete his masterpiece, and if I am quiet enough, oh so very quiet, I can faintly hear the drawer opening, and the package of black licorice being opened.
As a five year old child, I knew to equate Patti Austin and James Ingram's "Baby Come to Me" with Holly and Robert Scorpio, I knew that Adam Chandler was a force to be reckoned with, and Tina and Cord were too hot to last. My grandma would doze in her chair, and I would sit with my crossword puzzle, awaiting the theme song of General Hospital, which started with a mournful siren and not the silly 90210-esque character montages of today.
It was a time of simplicity...being a child, being in the 1980s, thinking one could escape merely by watching escapist television. I think it is this fact that allowed me to justify watching these soaps for decades after this. As a teenager, I taped them every day on our VHS and watched them while i did my homework, my heart hurting for the love I had for Sonny Corinthos and Jasper Jax, and getting more involved in the rape trials on One Life to Live than in half the drama in my own school. It became a constant, something I always knew would be there. They played during the holidays, they never took vacations or left me when I needed them. When my beloved grandmother died, General Hospital stayed, and while all the characters had long since left the show, it never ceased being "our" show. As I got older, and my children started coming into the world, the shows made less sense to me. The same storylines were often recycled and were becoming more absurd and unbelievable by the week. I stuck it out as long as I could, for as long as I knew that GH would start at 3pm on ABC, I would know that somewhere, anywhere, my grandma was alongside me. I endured endless teasing and scoffing from my mother, who never understood the idea of a Soap Opera, and my husband, who equated watching soaps as being one of those cliched housewives eating bonbons.
When my son was born, life got crazier, and trying to keep up with the soaps on tivo became a chore. So I would watch the Friday episodes on Soapnet, and more often than not, got the entire gist of the storyline from these catchup nights. Then, it became once a month, then not at all.
I was reading an article today on CNN about a fan outcry because of the cancellation of As the World Turns and Guiding Light, neither of which were my soaps. Women were bemoaning the loss of people they considered to be friends, and the loss of a staple TV show.
What they are really mourning, as I think I understand more than many of the people who probably think of this as nonsense, is the end of an era. The end of a time when society embraced stay at home mothers, and provided them with coping mechanisms for long lonely days and difficult marriages. The end of a time when being green, and being fiscally responsible, and sexually chaste were not the headlines, and viewers were not ridiculed for finding enjoyment in such shallow behavior. The end of a time when all it took was a siren and an old love song to bring back a long gone beloved family member, if even for an hour.
I empathize with these women, who are all living the same day to day dilemmas, struggles, joys and ecstasies as myself and most of my friends. I empathize their need for that constant, when the world outside the front door is tumultuous and unknown. I empathize at the feeling of powerlessness, when something you have held dear for decades can be so eaily taken away for the mere sake of advertising dollars and ratings. But I also know that as a stay at home mother, it is our responsibility, no our RIGHT to abandon the age old labels and cliches that are placed on us. We do not need to cower because women who work out side the home think of us as lazy or spoiled, or because very little is done on the political level to assist families who choose to keep a parent with their children. We do not need soap operas to escape, because the mere fact that we get to be at home, watching our children grow from moment to moment is nothing to escape. I have found that turning off the television during the daytime has allowed me to hear so many things I would have missed otherwise. Babies laughing in their cribs, Lucas rifling his little hands through his lego bucket, in search of the one piece that would complete his masterpiece, and if I am quiet enough, oh so very quiet, I can faintly hear the drawer opening, and the package of black licorice being opened.
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