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(Editorial note:  Wanda is a very busy bee folks, so I’ve recycled a post.  My apologies if you’ve read this elsewhere.) 

My husband, Mr. Rizzuto, is going to photograph a sweet sixteen party in a couple of months. For some reason he thinks that he (and, well, I) should watch “My Super Sweet Sixteen” on MTV. Research and all that.  The only time I ever watched this show was when I was stuck between seminars at a conference in Seattle this past summer. For those of you who are unfamiliar, every episode follows an enormously bratty, rich spoiled kid while he/she/it plans the ultimate Super Sweet Sixteen party. The children demand the hottest party in (whatever city) with the biggest Hummer, the bestest venue and the famousest rock star/rapper in MTV-land.  And a Mercedes.

The first time I had the pleasure of watching this…this…I don’t know what to call it, I watched a fat kid terrorize her friends, friends parents, her mother and various BMW dealers, all with the tacit approval, if not outright encouragement, of her parents. The next episode (they show them back to back) began with the…the…I don’t know what to call her, demanding a $50,000 mansion for her party. Her father, obviously on the verge of suicide, tried in vain to negotiate with the party planner (“uh…how about $25,000?). The little darling’s reply? “Daaaad, $50,000 is FINE!” Done deal. I exercised my right to change the channel.

Fast forward to this afternoon’s episode. Bitchy McBitch decides she has to have (what else) the best ever party in Atlanta. Emmanuel Lewis, for some reason that escapes me, handed out invitations to her friends.  Jermaine Dupree rode with her in the limo.  G-Unit made a guest appearance (I‘m still waiting for the footage of him making balloon animals).  And they actually shut down Peachtree Street to make way for her grand entrance. The whole time Mr. Rizzuto kept admonishing me not to get angry at “our future clientele.”

It was at this point that I began to think about violent revolution. I felt a oneness with some unknown 18th century French peasants right before the guillotine came down on Marie Antoinette’s neck. Kill them, I say. Kill them all. Chop them into little pieces and feed them to the poor. Scatter the pieces across Peachtree Street.

I don’t know about you, but I for one can’t wait for my daughter to demand the best ever sweet sixteen party. At that time I will revisit the time honored tradition of making the child cut down her own ass-beating switch. I will beat her while reading aloud from The Communist Manifesto. Or I’ll just keep my mouth shut and do what Richard Pryor once said: beat her with the whole tree.

It’s not that I don’t love my kids. Of course I do. She can have a sweet sixteen party. There’s plenty of room in my back yard. And I’ve got a 2000 Toyota Echo with her name on it. I just think that obscene displays such as this are, well, disgusting. And MTV sucks for broadcasting it. Well, MTV sucks in general, but in particular because of this show.

Before you call the commie police on me, by the way, it turns out that I won’t need the guillotine after all. About halfway into the party the young lady’s “best friend” appeared, sweaty and stumbling across the room. As she tried to help him into the bathroom he threw up all over her.

Who needs bloody revolution when you’ve got karma?

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11 Comments

  1. Ha. I remember when my daughter asked for a sweet 16. Too bad she was in France at the time with her band. When she returned home asking for presents, I told her that her European tour WAS her present. That was a lot more than what I received when I turned 16.

  2. The thing I like about recycled posts is that if I’ve been a space cadet and missed something then I unmiss it. Thanks.

    I’m wondering about the Echo. I have one of those and … it’ll be exactly the right age to get rid of when my first turns sixteen.

  3. It makes me shudder when I see what kind of children people close to my age are raising.

  4. If I had asked for a sweet 16 party, my parents would have thrown me down the hill. I didn’t know people still had sweet 16 parties until I heard my daughters talking about the MTV show and how ridiculous it is/was.

    I think you’re right about the karma thing, too.

  5. Oh. Hi! I haven’t been getting comment alerts. I was wondering why no one loved me.

  6. I like that show! It stops me from feeling guilty about all my parents have done for me and it makes me really glad I’m not rich.

  7. Jeezus! All I wanted on my 16th birthday was to get through the school day without wanting to kill myself and about 30 other people. As you can see, I haven’t changed much.

    “I will beat her while reading aloud from The Communist Manifesto.”
    I absolutely love you beyond words right now.

  8. Aw shucks ma’am.

  9. no comment…just a heads up – I tagged ya.

  10. OK….

  11. Yeah so I hate that ‘My Sweet Sixteen’ show and basically all TV shows about annoying wenches who live in stupid bubblegum scented bubbles.


One Trackback/Pingback

  1. By Deadpan » My Super Sweet 16 Redux on 11 Sep 2008 at 12:42 pm

    […] he posted a YouTube video about My Super Sweet Sixteen. I did a post about that show a while back, but the video says it all so much better than I ever could. I love […]

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