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Introductions When an Austrian meets an American there are all sorts of cultural differences that will affect they way they size each other up. The most fundamental difference is in formality. Americans can be very direct and informal -- even when meeting someone for the first time. This superficial friendliness can often give people from other cultures the wrong impression. One author warns:

"Visitors may be overwhelmed by the sheer exuberant friendliness of Americans, especially in the central and southern parts of the country. Sit next to an American on an airplane and he will immediately address you by your first name, ask "So -- how do you like it in the States?", explain his recent divorce in intimate detail, invite you home for dinner, offer to lend you money, and wrap you in a warm hug on parting. This does not necessarily mean he will remember your name the next day. Americans are friendly because they just can't help it; they like to be neighbourly and want to be liked. However, a wise traveller realises that a few happy moments with an American do not translate into a permanent commitment of any kind . . ."

A little awareness of a simple cultural differences and customs can go a long way when you meet an American for the first time.

Titles In keeping with the Americans' preference for informality, the general tendency in introductions is to reduce any status differences very quickly by offering to go on a first name basis. "It's nice to meet you. Call me Bob." Often as not, this voluntary reduction of status just makes it easier to get through an uncomfortable situation with a person you don't expect to see again. It has nothing to do with respect or real social position. Even in a formal introduction, Americans will give you their first and last names (as opposed to title and last name, or last name only), and leave it up to you what title to use when you address them. The following list shows what titles are appropriate and which ones would sound strange (or even silly) to an American:

DAY TO DAY

LIFE

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USE:

FOR:

DON'T USE

WHY NOT:

Dr. (Doctor)

medical doctors or dentists

Prof. (Professor)

college or university professors

Teacher used only by very small children in school (and no followed by a name)

Mrs. (Misses) married women Miss has been replaced by the more respectful and less sexist "Ms."

Ms. ("Miz") married and unmarried women

Dipl. Eng.

Your Honor judges B.A. / B.S. What's the point?

Mag. / M.A.

Mr. President Hofrat

Your Majesty

Handshaking Most American men shake hands in every introduction. Some women do and some don't -- the best thing to do is wait for the woman to extend her hand or not. Women do not generally shake hands with each other. For both sexes a firm, short handshake is customary. A limp handshake is a sign of weak character and leads to statements like "He shakes hands like a dead fish." Shake hands for too long and an American will get nervous. Maintain eye contact without staring.

Small Talk / Taboo Subjects Once the introductions are over, the struggle begins to find trivial subjects to discuss. This often involves comments on the occasion or the location where the people are meeting and phrases like "So . . . what brings you here?" (which non-native speakers often express as "What are you doing here?" - unfortunately). Americans will also use compliments as a way of initiating conversation: "Those are beautiful earrings. Where did you get them?" People from other cultures are often put off by compliments - especially if too many are offered. It is also a matter of culture which subjects are appropriate for a first conversation. Koreans, for instance, won't find it wrong to ask a woman in her twenties "Are you married? Why not? Do you have children? Why not?" Americans are more likely than Austrians to talk about the following subjects with a relative stranger: politics "So what do you think of Clinton?" age "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?" money "If you don't mind saying - how much did that cost?" mental health "Well, my therapist says that . . . "

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Contrary to what is taught in Austrian schools, no one ever asks "What are your hobbies?"

Ending the Conversation

Strangely enough, the weather is a topic for people who know each other well and in some areas of the States, people can discuss it with what may seem like endless enthusiasm. Talking about the weather or the temperature of the room, however, is probably the quickest way to kill a small talk conversation. "This is some weather we're having" can generally be interpreted as "I have nothing better to say to you" and "It sure is cold in here" usually means "I am preparing an excuse to end this conversation and leave." Most introductions end with some mention of meeting again or with something that sounds like an invitation - but often is just a polite phrase: "Why don't you call me sometime?" or "Maybe I'll be seeing you at the . . . (wherever)." Interpreting these messages is - as Americans would say - "a whole nother" chapter. (If you are interested see the section on "Invitations" - starting on page F4). In general, it is best not to take these invitations literally unless a definite time and place are mentioned and telephone numbers are exchanged.

Sources: Deena Levine and Mara Adelman "Beyond Language" (Prentice Hall, 1982) "A Xenophobe's Guide to Austrians"

Questions about Reading: "INTRODUCTIONS" You are introduced to a young American student in a bar in Graz by a mutual friend: 1. Do you shake her hand? (If yes, how?) 2. What title will you use? 3. If the setting were more formal, what title(s) could you use? 4. Write three small talk questions you might ask her. 5. Write three questions you would not ask her.

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SATURDAYS WITH THE WHITE HOUSE STAFF

by Andrew A. Rooney

Every Saturday morning I make a list of Things to Do Today. I don't do them, I just make a list. My schedule always falls apart and I realize that what I need is the kind of support the President gets. Here's how Saturday would go for me if I had the White House staff home with me:

7:15-7:30--I am awakened by one of the kitchen staff bringing me fresh orange juice, toast, jam, and coffee.

7:30-7:45--The valet lays out my old khaki pants, a clean blue denim shirt, and my old work shoes. I dress.

7:45-8:00--The newspaper is on my desk, together with a brief summary of it prepared overnight by three editors.

8:00-8:15--My mail has been sorted with only the interesting letters left for me to read. Checks for bills have been written and stamps put on envelopes. All I have to do is sign them. The Secretary of the Treasury will make sure my checks don't bounce.

8:15-8:30--Staff maintenance men have left all the right tools by the kitchen sink, together with the right size washers. I repair the leaky faucet.

8:30-8:45--While I repaired the faucet, other staff members got the ladder out of the garage and leaned it against the roof on the side of the house. While two of them hold it so I won't fall, I clean out the gutters. They put the ladder away when I finish.

8:45-9:00--Manny, my own barber, is waiting when I get down from the roof and he gives me a quick trim.

9:00-9:15--Followed by four Secret Service operatives, I drive to the car wash, where they see to it that I go to the head of the line.

9:15-9:30--On returning from the car wash, I find the staff has made a fresh pot of coffee, which I enjoy with my wife, who thanks me for having done so many of the little jobs around the house that she'd asked me to do. Two insurance salesmen, a real estate woman, and a college classmate trying to raise money call during this time, but one of my secretaries tells them I'm too busy to speak with them. Long before noon, with my White House staff, I've done everything on my list, and I can relax: read a book, take a nap or watch a ballgame an television.

I'm dreaming, of course. This is more the way my

Saturdays really go: 6:00-7:30--I am awakened by a neighbor's barking dog.

After lying there for half an hour, I get up, go down to the kitchen in my bare feet, and discover we're out of orange juice and filters for the coffeemaker.

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7:30-8:30--I go back upstairs to get dressed, but all my clean socks are in the cellar. They're still wet because they weren't taken out of the washing machine and put in the dryer. I wait for them to dry.

8:30-9:30--Now that I have my shoes on. I go out to the driveway to get the paper. Either the paperboy has thrown it into the bushes again or he never delivered it. I drive to the news store and get into an argument about why the Raiders beat the Eagles.

9:30-10:30--The mail has come and I sit down in the kitchen to read it. The coffee was left on too high and is undrinkable. The mail is all bills and ads. I don't know how much I have in the bank, and I don't have any stamps. I don't feel like doing anything. I just sit there, staring.

10:30-11:30--1 finally get up and go down to the cellar but can't find the right wrench for the faucet in the kitchen sink, and I don't have any washers anyway. I try to do it with pliers and string but finally give up.

11:30-12:30--I don't feel like digging the ladder out from behind the screens so I drive to the car wash, but there are twenty-three cars in front of me. Later, at the barbershop, Manny can't take me today.

I go home, get out of the car, and find the left front tire is soft. I go into the house and sit down to stare again as my wife comes in and complains that I never do anything around the house.

Writing Task - " SATURDAYS WITH . . ." Imagine your own ideal Saturday (like Rooney does in the reading) and describe it. Start with when you get up in the morning and say what you do next. Finish by saying what a real Saturday is like for you.

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PHYSICAL UNIVERSE

by Louis Simpson

He woke at five and, unable

to go back to sleep,

went downstairs.

A book was lying on the table

where his son had done his homework.

He took it into the kitchen,

made coffee, poured himself a cup,

and settled down to read.

"There was a local eddy in the swirling gas

of the primordial galaxy,

and a cloud was formed, the protosun,

as wide as the present solar system.

This contracted. Some of the gas

formed a diffuse, spherical nebula,

a thin disk, that cooled and flattened.

Pulled one way by its own gravity,

the other way by the sun,

it broke , forming smaller clouds,

the protoplanets. Earth

was 2000 times as wide as it is now."

The earth was without form, and void,

and darkness was upon the face of the deep.

*

"Then the sun began to shine,

dispelling the gases and vapors,

shrinking the planets, melting the earth,

separating iron and silicate

to form the core and mantle.

Continents appeared . . . "

history, civilisation,

the discovery of America

and the settling of Green Harbor,

bringing us to Tuesday, the seventh of July.

Tuesday, the day they pick up the garbage!

He leaped into action,

took the garbage bag out of its container,

tied it with a twist of wire,

and carried it out to the tool-shed,

taking care not to let the screen-door slam,

and put it in the large garbage can

that was three-quarters full.

He kept it in the tool-shed so the raccoons

couldn't get at it.

He carried the can out to the road,

then went back into the house

and walked around, picking up newspapers

and fliers for: "Thompson Seedless Grapes,

California's finest sweet eating";

"Scott Bathroom Tissue";

"Legislative report from Senator Ken LaValle."

He put all this paper in a box,

and emptied the waste baskets in the two

downstairs bathrooms,

and the basket in the study.

He carried the box out to the road,

taking care not to let the screen-door slam,

and placed the box next to the garbage.

Now let the garbage men come!

*

He went back upstairs.

Susan said, "Did you put out the garbage?"

But her eyes were closed.

She was sleeping, yet could speak in her sleep,

ask a question, even answer one.

"Yes," he said, and climbed into bed.

She turned around to face him,

with her eyes still closed.

He thought, perhaps, she's an oracle,

speaking from the Collective Unconscious.

He said to her, "Do you agree with Darwin

that people and monkeys have a common

ancestor?

Or should we stick to the Bible?"

She said, "Did you take out the garbage?"

"Yes," he said, for the second time.

Then thought about it. Her answer

had something in it of the sublime.

Like a koan . . . the kind of irrelevance

a Zen master says to the disciple

who is asking riddles of the universe.

He put his arm around her,

and she continued to breathe evenly

from the depths of sleep.

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_____________ _____________

Thank God for Small Towns

You know you're in a small town when:

* Third Street is on the edge of town.

* Every sport is played on dirt.

* The editor and publisher of the newspaper carried a camera at all

times.

* You don't use your turn signals because everyone knows where you

are going.

* You write a check on the wrong bank and it covers for you.

* Someone asks you how you feel and listens to what you say.

* You speak to each dog by name as you pass and he wags at you.

* You can't walk for exercise because every car that passes you offers

you a ride.

* You get married and the local paper devotes a quarter page to the

story.

* You drive into the ditch five miles out of town and the word gets back

before you do.

* You miss Sunday at church and receive a get well card.

* A neighbor tries out a new recipe and you get a sample.

You announce you are moving and get many offers of help.

Writing Tasks: "Life in the Slow Lane"

1. Come up with three more examples for "You know you're in small town when . . ."

OR 2. Pick another place or situation and write a similar sketch. Some possibilities: "You know you're in Austria when . . .", "You know you are in trouble when .. .", "You know you're in love when . . ."

Writing Task: ABANDONED FARMHOUSE

Pick a place (a house, your room, a building) or an object (a car, a piece of clothing) or a person and describe them like in the poem. Mention physical details and then say what these details show us about him/ her/ it. If you want you can write a poem.

ABANDONED FARMHOUSE By Ted Kooser

He was a big man, says the size of his shoes

on a pile of broken dishes by the house;

a tall man too, says the length of the bed

in an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,

says the Bible with a broken back

on the floor below the window, dusty with sun;

but not a man for farming, say the fields

cluttered with boulders and the leaky barn.

A woman lived with him, says the bedroom wall

papered with lilacs and the kitchen shelves

covered with oilcloth, and they had a child,

says the sandbox made from a tractor tire.

Money was scarce, say the jars of plum preserves

and canned tomatoes sealed in the cellar hole.

And the winters cold, say the rags in the window frames.

It was lonely here, says the narrow country road.

Something went wrong, says the empty house

in the weed-choked yard. Stones in the fields

say he was not a farmer; the still-sealed jars

in the cellar say she left in a nervous haste.

And the child? Its toys are strewn in the yard

like branches after a storm -- a rubber cow,

a rusty tractor with a broken plow,

a doll in overalls. Something went wrong they say.

Life in the Lane

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FAMOUS LIVES

What famous person is being described in each of the passages below and what clues made you think so?

He was born in the United States at the turn of the century. As a young man, he

was very active, and spent a lot of time hunting and fishing. He started working as a journalist, but during the First World War he was an ambulance driver in Italy, where he was badly wounded in 1917.· After fighting in the Spanish Civil War, he worked as an army correspondent until 1945, when he went to live in Cuba. In 1954 he won a Nobel Prize. He stayed in Cuba until the Castro Revolution in 1959, and then returned to live in the United States. He was married four times, and later in his life became physically and mentally ill. On 2 July 1961, he committed suicide.

She was born into a wealthy family in Philadelphia in 1930, and she had her first

Part on the stage when she was 12 years old. Five years later, after visiting Europe with her family, she was admitted to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York. While she was there she did some modelling and TV commercials to earn some extra money. She first appeared on Broadway in 1949. In 1951, after appearing in several plays on stage and on TV, she played the hero's wife in the film High Noon. She then had star roles in two Alfred Hitchcock films, and later won an Oscar for her role in The Country Girl. In April 1956 she left Hollywood and got married. She had a daughter in I957, followed by a son 14 months later, and another daughter in 1965. She lived in Monaco until her death in 1982.

She was born in September 1890 in Torquay, in the southwest of England. She

married in1914, just before the beginning of the First World War. During the War, she worked first as a nurse, and then in a hospital dispensary, where she learnt all about drugs and poisons. Her husband returned from France at the end of the War, and they had a daughter in 1919· Eight years later, in 1927, she got divorced, and after two or three years' work, she went on holiday to Baghdad, where she joined a British archaeological expedition. There she met her second husband: they travelled back to England together on the Orient Express, and got married in September 1930.· They went on two more archaeological expeditions in Syria, and during the Second World War she again worked in a dispensary. After more travels to the Middle East in 1947 and 1949, She and her husband moved back to the southwest of England, where she worked until her death in 1976· In 1971 she was made a Dame of the British Empire.

Source: Adrian Doff, Christopher Jones, and Keith Mitchel, "Meaning Into Words" (CUP 1983)

Writing Task

Pick another famous person and describe him / her like in the passages above (i.e. don't mention the name so that others can guess who you mean.) Try not to make it too obvious.

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W.H. Auden

THE UNKNOWN CITIZEN

(To JS/07/M/378

This Marble Monument

Is Erected by the State)

He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be

One against whom there was no official complaint.

And all the reports on his conduct agree

That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint.

For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.

Except for the War till the day he retired

He worked in a factory and never got fired.

But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors, Inc.

Yet he wasn't a scab or odd in his views,

For his Union reports that he paid his dues,

(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)

And our Social Psychology workers found

That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.

The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day

And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.

Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,

And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.

Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare

He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan

And had everything necessary to Modern Man,

A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.

Our researchers into Public Opinion are content

That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;

When there was peace, he was for peace; when there was war, he went.

He was married and added five children to the population.

Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation,

And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.

Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:

Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

ee cummings

"'NEXT TO OF COURSE GOD AMERICA I" "next to of course god america i love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh say can you see by the dawn's early my country tis of centuries come and go and are no more what of it we should worry in every language even deafanddumb thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry by jingo by gee by gosh by gum why talk of beauty what could be more beaut- iful than these heroic happy dead who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter they did not stop to think they died instead then shall the voice of liberty be mute?" He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water

Robert Frost

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth:

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear:

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence;

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

William Carlos Williams

This is Just to Say

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

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HOW TO EAT

LIKE A CHILD

by Delia Ephron

Peas: Mash and flatten into thin sheet on

plate. Press the back of the fork into the

peas. Hold fork vertically, prongs up, and

lick off peas.

Mashed potatoes: Pat mashed potatoes

flat on top. Dig several little depressions.

Think of them as ponds or pools. Fill the

pools with gravy. With your fork, sculpt

rivers between pools and watch the gravy

flow between them. Decorate with peas.

Do not eat.

Alternative method: Make a large hole in

center of mashed potatoes. Pour in

ketchup. Stir until potatoes turn pink. Eat

as you would peas.

Animal Crackers: Eat each in this order--

legs, head, body.

Sandwich: Leave the crusts. If your

mother says you have to eat them because

that's the best part, stuff the crusts into

your pants pocket or between the cushions

of the couch.

Spaghetti: Wind too many strands on the

fork and make sure at least two strands

dangle down. Open your mouth wide and

stuff in spaghetti; suck noisily to inhale the

dangling strands. Clean plate, ask for

seconds, and eat only half. When carrying

your plate to the kitchen, hold it tilted so

that the remaining spaghetti slides off and

onto the floor.

Ice-cream cone: Ask for a double scoop.

Knock the top scoop off while walking out

the door of the ice-cream parlor. Cry. Lick

the remaining scoop slowly so that ice

cream melts down the outside of the cone

and over your hand. Stop licking when the

ice cream is even with the top of the cone.

Be sure it is absolutely even. Eat a hole in

the bottom of the cone and suck the rest of

the ice cream out the bottom. When only

the cone remains with ice cream coating

the inside, leave on car dashboard.

Ice cream in bowl: Grip spoon upright in

fist. Stir ice cream vigorously to make

soup. Take a large helping On a spoon,

place spoon in mouth, and slowly pull it

out, sucking only the top layer of ice cream

off. Wave spoon in air. Lick its back. Put

in mouth again and suck off some more.

Repeat until all ice cream is off spoon and

begin again.

Cooked carrots: On way to mouth, drop

in lap. Smuggle to garbage in napkin.

Spinach: Divide into little piles. Rearrange

into new piles. After five or six maneuvers,

sit back and say you are full.

Chocolate-chip cookies: Half-sit, half-lie

on the bed, propped up by a pillow. Read a

book. Place cookies next to you on the

sheet so that crumbs get in the bed. As you

eat the cookies, remove each chocolate

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chip and place it on your stomach. When

all the cookies are consumed, eat the chips

one by one, allowing two per page.

Milk shake: Bite off one end of the paper

covering the straw. Blow through straw to

shoot paper across table. Place straw in

shake and suck. When the shake just

reaches your mouth, place a finger over the

top of the straw--the pressure will keep the

shake in the straw. Lift straw out of shake,

put bottom end in mouth, release finger,

and swallow. Do this until the straw is

squished so that you can't suck through it.

Ask for another. Open it the same way, but

this time shoot the paper at the waitress

when she isn't looking. Sip your shake

casually--you are just minding your own

business -- until there is about an inch of

shake remaining. Then blow through the

straw until bubbles rise to the top of the

glass. When your father says he's had just

about enough, get a stomachache.

Chewing gum: Remove from mouth and

stretch into spaghetti-like strand. Swing

like a lasso. Put back in mouth. Pulling out

one end and gripping the other end

between teeth, have your gum meet your

friend's gum and press them together.

Think that you have just done some- thing

really disgusting.

Baked apple: With your fingers, peel skin

off baked apple; Tell your mother you

changed your mind, you don't want it.

Later, when she is harassed and not paying

attention to what she is doing, pick up the

naked baked apple and hand it to her.

French fries: Wave one French fry in air

for emphasis while you talk. Pretend to

conduct orchestra. Then place four fries in

your mouth at once and chew. Turn to your

sister, open your mouth, and stick out your

tongue coated with potatoes. Close mouth

and swallow. Smile.

Homework and Writing Task - "How to Eat Like a Child"

A) Reread the text and pay particular attention to all the different verbs the author uses. Try to learn any new words (and be prepared for a little quiz in class next week!) B) Write a "How to . . ." using the command form (like in giving directions.) Some suggestions:

"How to drive like an Austrian" "How to live like a student"

"How to work like a government official" "How to meet men / women" . . .

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FAREWELL TO FITNESS by Mike Royko

At least once a week, the office jock will stop me in the hall, bounce on the balls of his feet, plant his hands

on hips, flex his pectoral muscles and say: "How about it? I'll reserve a racquetball court. You can start working off some of that..." And he'll jab a finger deep into my midsection.

It's been going on for months, but I've always had an excuse: "Next week, I've got a cold." "Next week, after the holidays."

But this is it. No more excuses. I made one New Year's resolution, which is that I will tell him the truth. And the truth is that I don't want to play racquetball or handball or tennis, or jog, or engage in any other form of exercise more strenuous than rolling out of bed.

This may be unpatriotic, but I am renouncing the physical-fitness craze. Oh, I was part of it. Maybe not as fanatically as some. But about 15 years ago, when I was 32, someone

talked me into taking up handball, the most punishing court game there is. From then on it was four or five times a week - up at 6 A.M., on the handball court at 7, run grunt sweat, pant

until 8:30, then in the office at 9. And I'd go around bouncing on the balls of my feet, flexing my pectoral muscles, poking friends in their soft guts, saying: "How about working some of that off? I'll reserve a court," and being obnoxious.

This went on for years. And for what? I'll tell you what it led to: I stopped eating pork shanks, that's what. It was inevitable. When you join the physical fitness craze, you have to stop eating wonderful things like pork shanks because they are full of cholesterol. And you have to give up smoked liverwurst, cheesecake, double cheeseburgers with fries, Christian Brothers brandy with a Beck's chaser, and everything else that tastes good.

Instead I ate broiled skinless chicken, broiled whitefish, grapefruit, steamed broccoli, steamed spinach, unbuttered toast, yogurt, eggplant, an apple for dessert and Perrier water to wash it down. Blahhh!

You do this for years and what's your reward? - You can take your pulse and find that it is slow. So what? Am I a clock? - You buy pants with a narrower waistline. Big deal. The pants don't cost less than the ones with a big waistline. - You get to admire yourself in the bathroom mirror for about 10 seconds a day after taking a shower . . . That's it Wait, I forgot something. You will live longer. I know that because my doctor told me so every time I took a

physical. My fitness-conscious doctor was very slender - especially the last time I saw him, which was at his wake.

It's not worth giving up pork shanks and cheesecake. Nor is it the way to age gracefully. Look around at all those middle-aged jogging chicken-eaters. Half of

them tape hairpieces to their heads. That's what comes from having a flat stomach. You start thinking that you should also have hair. And after that comes the facelift. And that leads to jumping around a disco floor, pinching airline stewardesses and other bizarre behavior.

I prefer to age gracefully, the way men did when I was a boy. The only time a man over 40 ran was when the cops caught him burglarizing a warehouse.

Anyone who was skinny was suspected of having TB or an ulcer. A few years ago I was in Bavaria, and I went to a German beer hall. It was a beautiful sight. Everybody was

popping sausages and pork shanks and draining quart-sized steins of thick beer. Compare that to the finish line of a marathon, with all those emaciated runners sprawled on the grass,

tongues hanging out, wheezing, throwing up. If that is the way to happiness and a long life, pass me the cheesecake. May you get a hernia, Arnold Schwarzenegger. And here's to you, Orson Welles.

Questions about reading: "Farewell to Fitness"

1. How has the author's attitude toward fitness changed over the last fifteen years? 2. How does he talk about the "rewards" of being fit? 3. What is his idea of beauty? 4. People today seem to be very health and beauty conscious. Do you share these views or do you agree more with Mike Royko? How much do sports and keeping fit affect your lifestyle? (150 words)

Readings Page 13

Dave Barry

To See Your Child Being Born Is to Know

the Meaning of Yucky

For thousands of years, only women had babies. Primitive women

would go into huts and groan and wail and sweat while other women

hovered around. The primitive men stayed outside. When the baby

was born, the women would clean it up as best they could and show it

to the men, who would spit appreciatively and go into the forest to

hurl sharp sticks at animals. If you had suggested to primitive men that

they should watch women have babies, they would have laughed and

tortured you for three or four days.

At the beginning of the 20th

Century, women started having babies

in hospital rooms. Often males were present, but they were doctors

who were paid large sums of money and wore masks. Civilian males

stayed out of the baby-having area; they remained in waiting rooms

reading old copies of Field and Stream.

What I'm getting at is that for most of history, baby-having was in

the hands (so to speak) of women. Many fine people were born under

this system. Things changed in the 1970's. The birth rate dropped

sharply. Women started going to college and driving bulldozers and

carrying briefcases and using words like "debenture." They didn't

have time to have babies. For a while there, the only people having

babies were unwed teenage girls, who can get pregnant merely by

standing downwind from teenage boys.

Then the young professional couples began to realize that their

lives were missing something: a sense of stability, of companionship,

of responsibility for another life. So they got Labrador Retrievers. A

little later they started having babies again, mainly because of the tax

advantages. Now you can't open your car door without hitting a

pregnant woman. But there's a catch. Women now expect men to watch

them have babies. This is called natural childbirth.

At first, natural childbirth was popular only with granola-oriented

couples who named their babies things like Peace Love World

Understanding Harrington Schwartz. The males, their brains badly

corroded by drugs and organic food, wrote smarmy articles about what

a Meaningful Experience it is to see a New Life Come into the World.

None of the articles mentioned the various fluids and solids that come

into the world with the New Life, so people got the impression that

watching somebody have a baby was fun. Now innocent males are

required by law to watch females have babies.

I recently had to watch my wife have a baby in our local hospital.

First we had to go to ten childbirth classes with fifteen other couples

consisting of women who were going to have babies and men who

were going to watch them. Some of the couples were wearing golf and

tennis apparel and were planning on having wealthy babies. The

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classes consisted of openly discussing, among other things, the uterus.

But having discussed it at length and having seen full-color diagrams,

I must say that it has lost much of its charm, although I still respect it a

great deal as an organ.

Our instructor also spent some time on the ovum, which is near

the ovaries. What happens is that the ovum hangs around until along

comes this big crowd of spermatozoa, which are tiny, stupid, one-

celled organisms. They're looking for the ovum, but most of them

wouldn't recognize it if they fell over it. They swim around for days

trying to mate with the pancreas or whatever other organs they bump

into. Eventually one stumbles into the ovum, and the happy couple

parades down the fallopian tube to the uterus.

In the uterus the Miracle of Life begins, unless you believe the

Miracle of Life doesn't begin there, and if you think I'm going to get

into that you're crazy. Anyway, the ovum starts growing rapidly and

dividing into lots of specialized parts, not unlike the federal

government. Within six weeks it has developed all the organs it needs

to drool; by ten weeks it has the ability to cry in restaurants. The class

was shown photographs of a fetus developing inside the uterus. We

weren't told how the photos were taken, but I suspect it involved a lot

of drinking.

One evening we saw a movie of a woman we didn't even know

having a baby. I am serious. She was from California. Another time

we were shown slides of a Cesarean section. The first slide showed a

pregnant woman cheerfully entering the hospital. The last slides

showed how they got the baby out of the cheerful woman I can't give

you a lot of details here because I had to leave the room fifteen or

twenty times. I do remember that at one point our instructor observed

that there was "surprisingly little blood." She evidently felt this was a

real selling point.

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When we weren't looking at pictures or discussing the uterus we

practices breathing: In the old days, under President Eisenhower,

doctors gave lots of drugs to women having babies. They'd knock

them out during the deliver and the women would wake up when the

kids were entering the 4th

grade. The idea with natural childbirth is to

avoid drugs so the mother can share the first intimate moments after

birth with the baby and the father and the obstetrician and the standby

anesthesiologist and the nurses and the person who cleans the room.

The key to avoiding drugs, according to the natural childbirth

people, is for a woman to breathe deeply. Really. the theory is that if

she breathes deeply, she'll get all relaxed and won't notice that she's

having a baby. So in childbirth class we spent a lot of time on pillows

and little mats while the women pretended to have contractions and

the men squatted around them with stopwatches and pretended to time

them. The golf and tennis couples, who had pillows with matching

pillowcases, didn't care for this part as they were not into squatting.

They started playing backgammon when they were supposed to be

practicing breathing. I imagine they had a rough time in childbirth,

unless they got the servants to have contractions for them.

My wife and I traipsed along for months, breathing and timing.

We were a terrific team and had a swell time. The actual delivery was

slightly more difficult. I don't want to name names, but I held up my

end. My stopwatch was in good order and I told my wife to breathe.

She, on the other hand, was unusually cranky. She almost completely

lost her sense of humor. At one point, I made an especially amusing

remark and she tried to hit me.

The baby came out all right, which is actually pretty awful unless

you're a big fan of slime. The doctor, who up to then had behaved like

a perfectly rational person, said, "Would you like to see a placenta?"

Nobody would like to see a placenta. It's like a form of punishment:

Jury: We find the defendant guilty of stealing from the old and

crippled.

Judge: I sentence the defendant to look at three placentas.

Without waiting for an answer, the doctor held up the placenta as

he might hold up a bowling trophy. I bet he didn't try that with the

people who had matching pillowcases.

We ended up with a healthy, organic, natural baby, who

immediately demanded to be put back in the uterus.

I understand that some members of the flatworm family simply

divide in two.