And you, of all people, should know better.
My friend Cheryl loaned me her copy of Amy Schumer's book, "The Girl With the Lower Back Tattoo." It's a series of essays on the forays in and out of Amy's 35-year-old raucous life.
I think Amy Schumer is hilarious and I love that her sister Kim is her right hand man in guiding her career. When she tipped those lucky bartenders a thousand dollars during intermission at "Hamilton" in New York, she became my hero.
But by Chapter 2, "An Open Letter to My Vagina," I became somewhat disillusioned.
I know I've put you through a lot.
I've had hot wax poured on you
and the hair ripped from you by strangers.
Some of the strangers have burned you
even though I told them
you have very sensitive skin.
Come on Amy, don't you know your own body? Don't you know where your vagina is? I've written on this subject before, but no one ever listens to me.
You are a writer, Amy. Do some reproductive organ research before going to print. Where was your editor? Passed out drunk?
Recently we watched the movie, "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot," based on the true story of a journalist in Afghanistan. In the film I caught another disturbing V-bomb. What have I become? The vagina police?
The talented Tina Fey played the title character covering war in the Middle East. Riding in a jeep on a very bumpy road with her male crew, on an assignment, she begged them to stop along the road so she could pee.
Crouching near a dwarf evergreen tree, she spoke along the lines of, "I have to pee, I pee out of my vagina."
Well, Tina, that's anatomically impossible. Surely you know better. You're a grown woman. You're a mother.
You gave birth to two children.
Why didn't you tell that male screenwriter to take a course in Biology 101?
Speak up when the, also male, director tells you to utter nonsense on the big screen. You were also a producer on this film. You have clout in Hollywood. People take you seriously. No excuses.
It is better to remain silent
at the risk
of being thought a fool,
than to talk
and remove all doubt of it.
I give up. Call your private parts whatever the hell you want. I don't care anymore.
But I will continue to cringe every time I hear the word "vagina" spoken in incorrect terms.
No matter who says it.
And it better not be you.
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