I suppose Valentine's Day is a good day for someone like Jane Fonda to go on a national morning show to promote The Vagina Monologues. And, I suppose it's also a good day for an aging political activist like herself to spew the C-word on national TV. And by "C-word" I don't mean "cat."
Ah...Vagina Monologues and the C-word...my two least favorite things in the world. Together. On stage. With Jane Fonda...how delightful.
What? How could the Vagina Monologues be one of my least favorite things? Well, maybe because I'm a girl...What? you ask... how can you be a girl and NOT like the Vagina Monologues? Simply for this reason: I think it's an overrated production, and the chronic use of vulgar words in the production does not make it cool.
Oh yes. I saw it. A few years ago, a feminist friend of mine said "PJammy, you have to go see this play! It's the bee's knees!" And, not wanting to seem uncool or against the feminist movement, I said "Sure, sign me up." I went along...and I think I was supposed to be like the other feminist clones in the audience and cheer on the repeated use of the word "C*nt" and "vagina," but I kept quiet. I did not think the chronic use of the "C" word "took back the word" and made it any different. It's still the same old word with the same old vulgar meaning, and watching Eve Ensler utter it repeatedly did not magically change it into something Proud and Bold and Wonderful.
Neither did the repeated use of the "V" word. Yes, I know what I've got "down there." Yes, I know the technical name. However, I do not get any great feeling of liberation or satisfaction shouting it at the top of my lungs. "Vagina! VAGINA!" See? Nothing. I get more satisfaction at shouting the word "Fuck!" at the top of my lungs in the car after some nimrod cuts me off than I do in a roomful of feminists shouting out the V-word.
The thing is, I know I'm supposed to like it. It's not cool for me to admit that I don't. Oh sure, there were a few touching monologues. Overall, though, The Monologues did not speak to me, or give me permission to relish my vagina, or teach me anything new.
I will say this, though: Jane Fonda taught me something new. She taught me that it's kind of gross for an old lady, no matter how made up and plastic she might be, to utter obscenities on TV. Meredith Viera, please note: when I'm old and you interview me on your morning show after my rousing production called "The Penis Chronicals," the only "c-word" out of my mouth will be cat.