Citizen Mom

It's Rollback Time for Wal-Mart Moms

Look out, Obama, the Wal-Mart Moms are pissed -- Wal-Mart says so! From Chris Cillizza's "The Fix":

A new nationwide survey shows that "Wal-Mart Moms" -- a voting bloc coveted by both national parties -- are deeply conflicted about President Barack Obama and the coming midterm elections.

The survey, which was conducted for Wal-Mart by Republican pollster Neil Newhouse and Democratic pollster Margie Omero via the Internet, is the first expansive polling study of who "Wal-Mart Moms" really are and how they feel about politics.

You remember the Wal-Mart Moms, about whom I last wrote in September '08, at the dawn of this Palinolithic Age. It reads now like a good reminder about the phony image upon which Sarah Palin's politics are built. From the City Paper:

These are women who tend to be less educated and more likely to work hourly wage jobs than those elitist, now-liberal Soccer Moms, who presumably shop at Target. According to one survey, 41 percent of frequent Wal-Mart shoppers said they made below $35,000 a year, and 39 percent have a high school diploma or less.

In reality, Palin, being college-educated and flush with enough cash to buy her kid a (pre-owned) tanning bed, doesn't quite fit into the demographic. For political purposes, though, her conservative persona is supposed to fit Wal-Mart Women like a 100 percent polyester acrylic, made-in-Vietnam, plucked-off-a-clearance-table glove.

CITY PAPER: Rendell, J-Nap And What Having A 'Life' Gets You

What does Ed Rendell's alleged gaffe say about gender double standards?
by Amy Z. Quinn

I remember the exact moment I decided to quit my job and stay home with my son. My husband and I were working for the Asbury Park Press in central Jersey, and there was news breaking. Both of us had to work, and our baby-sitters were inaccessible. So I stayed in the newsroom writing about the unfolding chaos of Sept. 11, 2001, with my baby in his stroller next to my desk.

To be honest, what really made me know The Moment had come wasn't that my work-life routine had failed that day; parents accept pretty early on that their best-laid child care routines will go off the rails every now and again. What really burned my ass was not being able to spring up from the desk, notebook in hand, and get out to cover the story. Taking feeds over the phone and writing blurbs for the Web site, while necessary in the overall news coverage, just wasn't cutting it. Something had to give, and in that instant, it did.

My last day at work was a few months later, on Good Friday, 2002. See what having a life gets you?

READ THE REST AT CITYPAPER.NET

EARLY WORD: Beef, Beer and Hickeys

(click image to see full size)

Reports this week say former City Paper editor Brian Hickey, run down by a still at-large driver on Black Friday, is improving. He's said to be responding to some commands, recognizes his wife Angela and, we hear, gave someone the finger. Always a good sign!

BEEF AND BEER TO SUPPORT BRIAN HICKEY

7-11 p.m. Friday, Dec. 12

The Tap Room, Westmont NJ

Tickets $20 in advance, $25 at the door

FRIENDSOFBRIANHICKEY.COM

What Happened

CITY PAPER: Why We Live In The Suburbs, or, Why We Don't Live In Philly

CP Editor Brian Howard writes:

We're thrilled to introduce you to Amy Z. Quinn, aka the blogger Citizen Mom. She'll bring her mix of "democracy and domesticity" to our pages starting ... now. Contrary to what you may have read elsewhere, her column for us will be a compliment to her popular blog (quinnchannel.typepad.com), not a compendium of it. Don't believe me? Check her debut column. Why does she live in the suburbs? Better schools. Is she ashamed? No way.

By Amy Z. Quinn

Exactly 73 steps separate the front door of my family home in Manayunk from the Philadelphia public school across the street. James Dobson Elementary, built in 1929, consumes the entire block between Hermitage and Wright streets, off Umbria, its concrete schoolyard serving as the unofficial backyard of a neighborhood with few real backyards to speak of. It's where I learned to roller skate and to ride a bike, where I jumped double dutch (not well) and, later, sneaked cigarettes and kissed boys in the long shadows cast by its heavy iron fencing.

What I never did there was attend a class. In 36 years of life, 22 spent growing up on Dobson's doorstep — close enough that its squawking afternoon dismissal bell would wake a napping baby — I've never gone into the building beyond the auditorium that serves as the local polling place, or the claustrophobic basement gymnasium where my nephews played floor hockey. My parents sent their six kids to one of the local parochial schools — and let's not pretend it was just for the religious instruction.

When my husband, young son and I were moving back to the Philadelphia area from Central Jersey a few years ago, not once did we seriously consider moving into the city itself. Like many couples we know, we moved to the suburbs specifically so we could send our child to public school there. In fact it's probably fair to say we pointedly and unapologetically avoided the city of Philadelphia. You want to know why? Let's start with two words: persistently dangerous.

READ THE REST HERE, AT CITYPAPER.NET!