Mark Steyn is in My Ovaries
And he’s causing a helluva fuss. Ever since he wrote It’s the Demography, Stupid! last year, and then expanded it into America Alone, it feels as if he has singled me out to personally save civilization by breeding. And as if that’s not scary enough, my biological clock now ticks in his unusual pseudo-British voice.
I am bombarded daily by walking watermelons in the office, oversized prams blocking the sidewalk on my way to Saturday brunch, this week’s Macleans with the cover screaming “Hey Lady! What will it take to make you breed?” and myriad other not-so-subtle hints.
It’s normal to feel persecuted by my own ovaries. I’m thirty years old, healthy, moderately content with life (a massive improvement over how I felt in my twenties!), and female. My brain knows what it wants out of life, but my basest physiology is very much in tune with biology and survival of the species. How in tune? The Steyn-Clock only starts ticking in the presence of an Alpha Male. I am happily married to the world’s most wonderful Beta Male, but Mother Nature and Mark Steyn have advised me that it’s my ovarian destiny to breed super-children with an Alpha Male. And there’s no fooling Mother and Mark.
It’s usually easy to ignore. After all, I live in Toronto. Not a lot of Alpha Males here. So Im able to go about my business, scowling at the Yummie Mummies taking up valuable rush hour space on the subway or at the endless streams of welfare baby-mommas taking up valuable oxygen that Al Gore says we’ll be out of soon. Mr. Right - beloved Beta Male - and I can joyfully and selfishly coexist, with the cats and the dog for unconditional love and (I shamefully admit) the occasional miniature designer outfit. We would be a deplorable parental duo. Both of us far too focused on our own issues and interests. Both of us lazy. Mr. Right is an excellent parent to me, wrangling the demons of my childhood that I carry with me. He’s warm, caring, infinitely patient… but would forget a baby in the bathtub or even the grocery store. I have all the necessary instincts - right down to waking in the middle of the night if I hear one of the kitties being sick - but I would be one of those women you read about and shake your head, the one who drives her minivan full of kids into a lake.
But put me in the vicinity of an Alpha Male, and my ovaries stand up and salute! They sing the Star Spangled Banner. Five minutes with an Alpha, and I’m picking out names. Hawaii was a nightmare for a child-phobe like me - surrounded by the very best America has to offer in the form of Army, Navy, Marines and yes, even the Air Force. Not to say that every one of them is an Alpha - far from it. But the available percentage was much, much higher than under normal circumstances. So there I was, in Paradise, surrounded by Alphas, with Mark Steyn screaming from my nether regions. When it comes to my biological makeup, I’m no better than a cat. Gross.
The biggest problem is that Mark hasn’t quite figured out that we’re home now. We’ve been home nearly a month. But still all I hear is tick-tick-demography,stupid-tick….
[…] When I mentioned that it was Kathy’s birthday, he asked us to stick around. And so we did, for what seemed like an eternity. There was a little pack of us - myself, Kathy, Winston, Paul Tuns, Rick McGinnis and a few others. After the line finally ended, he came over to talk with us, take a few pics, exchange cards and witticisms… this went on till the Indigo staff threw us out at closing, and continued on the street corner outside. He asked me how the “fund raising” was going, and I told him he was welcome to top up the pot for a shot of his very own. I must say, I barely missed a beat at him referring to my boobie-blogging, but just prayed he wouldn’t bring this up. […]
Pingback by Girl On The Right » Blog Archive » America Alone paperback launch — May 7, 2008 @ 11:53 pm
Hi,
What a peculiar posting.
I married my husband because I wanted to have his babies. Our children are the great joy of my life. Four of them are now married, and I now have ten beautiful grandchildren.
To really love a man, and to know that you are making a baby together - it’s one of life’s peak experiences. then you get to meet this new person, and you see those beloved characteristics develop in new and unique ways.
My children taught me to slow down, to rediscover the wonder in the world. Then they grew up, and they shared their diverse interests, expanding my world as they ran ahead of me into diverse fields of study.
They married, and my social network expanded exponentially. Their in laws, their friends and their friends families are delighful people who enrich our lives.
Of course, it wasn’t always easy - worthwhile endeavours tend to require effort. We certainly were not “ideal parent material” - but we were willing to do what it takes, to admit our errors (to our children), as we expected, we grew into the job.
Having children is a vote of confidence, in yourself, in your spouse, and the future.
The downplaying of parenthood leads to an abdication of social responsibility. Couples who do not have children lack an investment in society past their own lifespans. People who have children have a concern that reaches to at least the life spans of their grandchildren.
This lack of “hostages to the future” might explain some of the liberal indifference to demographic change.
I pray that your ovaries will recognize the many virtues “Mr. Right” has. Go ovaries!
Trudy
Comment by Trudy — May 8, 2008 @ 8:11 am
[…] 9, from a moist Right Girl: But put me in the vicinity of an Alpha Male, and my ovaries stand up and salute! They sing the […]
Pingback by Stageleft:. Life on the left side : HYPERBOLE of the ZILLENIUM!!!!!! — June 25, 2008 @ 5:52 am