Uncle John’s Presents Mom’s Bathtub Reader Read online

  You Know, That Song Called “Mother”?

  Know how many songs are titled “Mother”? A lot. We listened to some of them, both famous and obscure, to see if you’d want to play any of them for your own mother. Here’s what we’ve got.

  “Mother” by Tori Amos (album: Little Earthquakes, 1992)

  What it sounds like: A piano line nicked from a Charlie Brown special, while the red-haired one begs her mother to leave a light on before Tori goes out into the big bad world.

  Play for mom? Sure, it’s a great song for letting mom know you’ll always need her. Perfect for the night before your wedding. At the very least, the tinkly piano will mellow both you and mom out.

  “Mother” by Burning Spear (album: Man in the Hills, 1976)

  What it sounds like: A vast reggae groove sweeping over the land, as Burning Spear relates the wisdom his mother passed down to him.

  Play for mom? You bet. Everyone can use some reggae —even moms.

  “Mother” by Danzig (album: Danzig, 1988)

  What it sounds like: Goth metal rocker warns mothers of the world not to let their kids be like him (which is to say, short, hairy, and shirtless), while the band apes Deep Purple.

  Play for mom? Does your mom ride Harleys, hang out with outlaws, and pick hard-rock songs on the jukeboxes to start bar fights by? No? Then, no.

  “Mother” by E-Trance (album: E-Trance, 1995)

  What it sounds like: Like this Japanese art-rock group is playing guitars with kitchen sinks and armadillos. There are lyrics—in English, even—but they’re too distorted to make out.

  Play for mom? Only if you’re testing to see how long she can politely listen to white noise before telling you to turn it off.

  “Mother” by Cyndi Lauper (album: Sisters of Avalon, 1997)

  What it sounds like: Surprisingly atmospheric, with a world-beat vibe (including pipes and talking drums). It’s a long way from “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

  Play for mom? Heck, yeah. Your mom probably already likes Cyndi. What could possibly go wrong?

  “Mother” by Mission Man (album: Into My Mind, 1998)

  What it sounds like: A guy standing in front of a karaoke machine, rapping out his memories of his deceased mother in a sludge-paced rap. Both sad and bad.

  Play for mom? Not even if your mom is a hip-hop queen. Really. No.

  “Mother” by Anika Moa (album: Thinking Room, 2002)

  What it sounds like: Just lovely. Moa has a sweet, evocative voice, and this lilting appreciation of mother would be perfect for a very special episode of the Gilmore Girls.

  Play for mom? Oh yeah. It’s a total parent-child four-minute bonding experience. She’ll get teary and everything.

  “Mother” by Pink Floyd (album: The Wall, 1979)

  What it sounds like: Years of therapy imploding over the course of just one song! But also nicely melodic and pretty to the extent any song about an overbearing mother smothering her son can be.

  Play for mom? If she’s a prog-rock gal, yes (and you know, a surprising number of moms are). Otherwise, you’re going to have to explain why you’re suggesting she’s suffocating you. Have fun with that.

  “Mother” by Sally Rogers (album: Generations, 1989)

  What it sounds like: Broadway musical–like tune about putting stars on strings and saving various mementos to share with dear ole mom. Lots of piano. Inoffensively pretty.

  Play for mom? Sure. Especially if she digs Sondheim.

  “Mother” by Barbra Streisand (album: Barbra Joan Streisand, 1972)

  What it sounds like: Are you kidding? It sounds like Barbra. Only Barbra could make this song about parental disappointment sound like a glorious anthem of freedom.

  Play for mom? Yup. It’s not a “happy mom” song, but that will get ignored because of TheVoice.

  “Nobody loves me but my mother, and she could be jivin’ too.” —B.B. King

  “My mother told me I was blessed and I have always taken her word for it.” —Duke Ellington

  “Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and, fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower then my mother is that sweet flower of love.”

  —Stevie Wonder

  The Classic Moms

  Classic Athenian and Spartan moms were different from each other as night and day

  Four thousand years ago, the Greeks may have been speaking the same language, but they weren’t ruled by one king or queen. They lived in city-states, all with their own politics, traditions, and customs. For moms and their kids, life was very different in the city-state of Athens than it was in the city-state of Sparta.

  ALIENATED ATHENIANS

  Athens is famous as the “cradle of civilization.” The Athenians gave the classical world cultural gifts: great art, architecture, and theater. They also began our most valued political traditions—big stuff like trial by jury and democracy. But when it came to women, those advanced Greek leaders were a little backward.

  An Athenian woman was expected to submit to her husband’s “wisdom,” which was problematic if he didn’t have any. She couldn’t eat, sleep, or drink in the same room as men or make financial decisions. She wasn’t allowed to vote, go to political meetings, or attend the theater. She couldn’t even go to the market without a chaperone. And a famous Athenian quote went like this: “Teaching a woman to read and write? What a terrible thing to do! Like feeding a vile snake on more poison.” It seems that the prevailing attitude was that women were dangerous enough already; if one went and gave them ideas and started them thinking, they would become even more perilous to men. So when it came to women’s rights, it was all Greek to the Athenians.

  Why all this female bashing? Blame it on the brilliant Athenian philosopher Aristotle, who figured out that if a wife decided to fool around she might bear her lover’s child without anyone being the wiser. (Well, duh.) Aristotle also knew that if a woman was uneducated and powerless it was easier to control her and limit any possibility of hanky-panky. That way when a husband died, he wouldn’t have some other man’s kid inheriting his stuff.

  SPARSELY COVERED SPARTANS

  But now for something completely different—Sparta. Most Greek city-states were like Athens in their attitude toward women and children. Not Sparta. Instead of being kept at home, Spartan gals went to their own schools, just like the guys did.

  The Spartan women were tougher and freer than other Greek women. Like their brothers, Sparta’s young women were trained to be fine athletes and to hand the enemy his head in battle. Since Greek sporting games were often conducted in the nude, girls practiced running races without a stitch on, even when men were around. (Athenians considered it shocking!) Spartan ladies were as “exposed” as Athenian women were hidden away. The Spartan women’s athletic prowess was respected and admired by the Spartan guys, who believed that strong women meant a strong state.

  But the Spartans were hardly feminists or even democrats. There was no great art or theater. Sparta was a tough warrior culture where men and women served the state. (The word “spartan” doesn’t mean “austere” and “self-denying” for nothing!) Still, unlike Athenian young ladies, the tough chicks in Sparta were encouraged to develop their abilities. They were expected to be educated, fit, and courageous so that they could defend their homes when their men were away and produce great warriors for the state.

  GETTING HITCHED

  These differences between the homebound Athenians and the warrior Spartans showed up in their marriage plans. The short list of what Athenian women could do included attending religious functions, funerals, and, of course, weddings. Perhaps because it was one of their few nights out, Athenian girls had wedding ceremonies that fans of Modern Bride could probably relate to.

  On a night with a full moon, the veiled bride, dressed in her best, would meet her bridegroom as guests looked on. There would be an animal sacrifice (OK, maybe Modern Bride readers would pass on that part) in the bride’s honor and feasting that included cake
s made with honey before the groom led the bride to his chariot to take her home. Unfortunately, the romance could be superficial since it was often a ritual where a very young bride was transferred from being the property of her father to the property of another older man whom she barely knew.

  A wedding in Sparta was a heck of a lot cheaper than in Athens. No caterers, no bands, no bridesmaids, no fuss. Instead, the groom showed his strength to his bride by abducting her and carrying her off into the night for a quickie honeymoon that usually didn’t include hotel reservations. But a Spartan woman did marry someone who was young and strong, and often there was mutual attraction.

  PITTER-PATTER OF LITTLE GREEK FEET

  As for motherhood, when a child was born in Athens, friends and relatives sent gifts. Mom decorated the doorway with an olive branch or a wreath of olive branches for a boy and a wreath of wool for a girl. Athenian women were encouraged—or should we say allowed?—to enjoy motherhood.

  But the birth of a child in Athens wasn’t always a happy occasion. Sometimes a husband decided not to keep the baby. It might be too great a financial burden or partially deformed or the wrong sex—female, of course; little girls got bigger every day and then eventually required a dowry from their dads when they got married. In that case, the baby was put outside the gates of the city and left to die or adopted and raised as a slave.

  Meanwhile back in tough Sparta, mothers weren’t having a terrific time either. Soon after a baby was born, soldiers arrived to make sure the infant was physically perfect. Otherwise it was removed to die or become a slave. Being a society devoted to military might, an imperfect child could grow up to be an imperfect soldier, which was viewed as a threat to the state. Spartans were not known for their sentimentality.

  A Spartan mother was trained to have one emotion: pride in her child’s courage, honor, and prowess as a soldier. As legend has it, before battle a Spartan mother told her son to “Come back with your shield or on it!” This not-so-sweet advice meant her sonny boy had better either win (come home with his shield) or die in battle (be carried home on his shield). Capture or surrender were clearly not options, so you can bet that running home to mom wasn’t exactly smiled upon either.

  IT’S ALL GREEK TO MOM

  Despite their differences, when it came to motherhood both Spartan and Athenian moms had something in common. A quote from Lycurgus, the lawgiver of Sparta (who wanted females to care only for duty and honor), summed it up when he complained, “All women are by nature fond of children.”

  Greek Mom Streaks

  Back in ancient Greece, women couldn’t attend the Olympic games because guys competed in the buff. But one brave mom, Kallipateira, had trained her son to be a great boxer and was desperate to see him compete. She disguised herself as a male trainer to watch the match. When he won, she jumped over the barrier and lost her clothes! Mom was fortunately pardoned, since not only her son, but also practically all of her male relatives were Olympic victors. After Kallipateira’s unsuccessful masquerade, trainers had to be as naked (though not as buff) as the athletes.

  Meeting Mom on the Road

  A traveler’s guide to statues of outstanding mothers.

  You’ve surely heard of some of these women, and others may be unfamiliar to you. But each of them has a statue dedicated to her somewhere in the United States. One, in fact, has eight statues. So hop in your car and take a road trip to visit these statues of outstanding women and devoted mothers.

  Joan Benoit (b. 1957) won a gold medal in the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. No small accomplishment. But did you know that she is the only American woman to have won a gold medal in the Olympic marathon—and one of the few living women to have a statue devoted to her? Take a look at her statue if you happen to be driving through Cape Elizabeth, Maine—a summer resort on the coast, seven miles south of Portland. The full-length bronze statue by sculptor Edward Materson is located at the Thomas Memorial Library at 6 Scott Dyer Road in Cape Elizabeth. Benoit, a native of Cape Elizabeth, married Scott Samuelson; they have two children, Abby and Anders.

  Harriet Beecher Stowe (1811–1896) was the author of the antislavery novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which sold 300,000 copies within the first year and influenced the advent of the Civil War. She was also the mother of seven children. Her bronze bust by the famed architect Stanford White is at the Hall of Fame for Great Americans at University Avenue and West 181st Street, The Bronx, New York. The bust has a dress with a round collar, a pin, and a shawl around the shoulders. Quite a prim look for such a dynamic lady!

  Ella Fitzgerald (1918–1996) “practically invented scat,” said her obituary in the New York Times. Her first record, made at age 17, was “Love and Kisses.” In 1938 her “A-tisket, A-tasket” was a huge novelty hit. Her full-length bronze statue shows her standing, wearing a dress and high-heeled shoes, and in the act of singing. The statue, by sculptor Vinnie Bagwell, is at the Trolley Barn Plaza in Yonkers, New York, where Fitzgerald lived for 13 years. The woman who was called the “First Lady of Song” married twice, the second time to jazz musician Ray Brown. They adopted a son, Ray Jr.

  Elizabeth Patton Crockett (c. 1788–1860) was the second wife and widow of famed frontiersman Davy Crockett, who was killed at the Alamo. Elizabeth’s statue, sculpted in Italy in 1913, is a larger-than-life figure of Italian marble, located at Farm Road 167 at Acton State Historic Site in Texas. This site is something of a curiosity—it’s the smallest state park in Texas, occupying all of .01 of an acre! The statue is dedicated to “all pioneer wives and mothers.”

  Mary Martin (1913–1990), the American singer and actress, was best known for her award-winning Broadway performances in South Pacific, Peter Pan, and The Sound of Music. A 1976 life-size bronze statue by Ronald Thomason stands outside the Weather-ford Public Library in Martin’s hometown of Weatherford, Texas. Martin was the mother of actor Larry Hagman, Dallas’s J. R. Ewing of “Who shot J.R.?” fame.

  Sacajawea (c. 1787–1812), the famed Shoshone guide and interpreter for the Lewis and Clark Expedition of 1805, carried her infant son on her back during the journey. She has no fewer than eight statues dedicated to her in the United States. The most famous is the heroic bronze monument by the sculptor Alice Cooper at the Portland, Oregon, Washington Park, erected in 1905. You can also find statues of her on the grounds of:

  •The North Dakota State Capitol in Bismarck, North Dakota;

  •The Bozeman Tourist Information Bureau in Bozeman, Montana;

  •Pioneer Park in Lewiston, Idaho;

  •Central Wyoming College in Riverton, Wyoming;

  •Breaker’s Point in Cannon Beach, Oregon;

  •Sacajawea Interpretive Center, Sacajawea State Park, in Pasco, Washington; and

  •On Sacajawea Street in Portland, Oregon.

  So many honors for such an important lady! Sounds like a Sacajawea road trip is in order!

  Sacajawea Becomes a Mother

  “One of the women . . . halted at a little run about a mile behind us . . . I inquired of Cameahwait the cause of her detention, and was informed by him in an unconcerned manner that she had halted to bring forth a child and would soon overtake us; in about an hour the woman arrived with her newborn babe and passed us on her way to camp apparently as well as she ever was.”

  —Meriwether Lewis, The Journals of Lewis and Clark

  Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter

  Mrs. Brown changes the way women have babies.

  In 1977, Lesley Brown was a frustrated young woman in Bristol, England. For nine years, she and her husband, John, had been unsuccessfully trying to have a baby. They had gone from doctor to doctor, searching for help, but had found none. Lesley (like about 20 percent of infertile women) had blocked fallopian tubes, which in those days meant that there was no hope of her ever conceiving a child. Luckily, she was referred to a special gynecologist, Dr. Patrick Steptoe.

  FALLOPIAN TUBE 101

  Conception occurs when an egg cell (ovum) is released from a wo
man’s ovary and travels through a fallopian tube, where it is fertilized by male sperm, becomes an embryo, and travels into the uterus, to which it attaches and where it grows into a baby. When the fallopian tube is blocked, the eggs can’t travel through the tube to be fertilized.

  Still, hopeless as her situation seemed, after talking to Dr. Steptoe at Oldham General Hospital, Lesley felt a surge of hope. Steptoe, along with Dr. Robert Edwards of Cambridge University, had been experimenting with a way to fertilize the egg in a lab’s glass petri dish, a process called in vitro (in glass) fertilization, or IVF. So far, the process had yet to make a woman pregnant, but the doctors hoped that Lesley would be the first success.

  She knew it might be painful and could easily end in failure, but Lesley felt she had to grasp at what she saw as her last hope. On November 10, 1977, Lesley Brown took the first step in the process. Using a laparoscope, Dr. Steptoe removed an egg from one of Lesley’s ovaries. Dr. Edwards put Lesley’s egg in a laboratory dish that already contained John’s sperm. After the egg was fertilized, it was placed in a special solution created to nurture it while it divided. Two and a half days later, the newly fertilized egg was placed into Lesley’s uterus.

  FICTION BECOMES SCIENCE

  Lesley was overjoyed as she began to experience what seemed to be a perfectly ordinary pregnancy. But as each month passed without incident, controversy swirled around the woman from Bristol. The fears concerning Lesley’s pregnancy and the process of in vitro fertilization became more and more sensational. People feared that science had overstepped its bounds.