Sunday, February 07, 2010

Really? Really?

So I was perusing Facebook, as I am usually wont to do when I have a few moments. And I noticed one of the lovely ads off to the side: "For Classy Cougars Only!"

One of my cardinal rules in life has been this: things (or persons) which are self-described "classy" generally aren't. I want to say I got that idea from Lewis Grizzard and his description of a personals ad: "Classy SWF age 35-39, enjoys blah blah blah...." and how usually the woman who actually showed up was quite frequently the antithesis of class. I think of those glittery iron-on t-shirts from the 70s: a butterfly with "Classy Lady" detailed below it -- and usually worn by women with heavily bleached hair, eyes with enough liner and mascara to make Rocky Raccoon say, "Tone it down, sister!", and too often with a cig hanging out of their mouth with enough ash on it to rival Mt. St. Helen's. And usually yelling something to someone they knew or screaming at the kids that their daddy was gonna whoop their aaaaaaaassssssssssss (or for those who don't always drag out their words, that's "ass"). Or it also brings to mind a restaurant like "Klassy Kafe" ... usually, a great hangout for the Whiskey Tango crowd. I guess that's where I get the connotation.

And the whole cougar thing.... really? How did those of us who are single and of a certain age get saddled with this predatory moniker? Just because we have a little more confidence and self-awareness at this time in our lives doesn't automatically mean we are out there to pounce on the first willing 25-year-old guy who comes along. When I think "cougars," I think of my college mascot: a perfectly noble creature! When the real cougar goes on the hunt, it is for survival, not because he feels he can and is therefore entitled to. If it were a Far Side world, we would already have the National Large Feline Anti-Defamation League already working overtime on this......

Classy Cougar. If I ever describe myself this way, you'll know I've hit my head and given myself a bad case of brain damage. Feel free to pull a Cher moment: "SMACK! Snap out of it!" I will thank you for it. I promise.

1 comment:

Talmadge Gleck said...

You forgot the airbrushed front car tag with palm tree silhouettes.

A souvenir of an arrested youth, and memories of getting "schittphaced" while cruising Thomas Drive in Panama City Beach, the car radio blasting WPFM "The Great 108."

The mental image you painted, to my mind, returns Allison Janney's character "Loretta" in Drop Dead Gorgeous.

Verification = "pewee" Cherry Forever would be a good hooker name for such a "cougar" :-D