By Harry Barron
I was very excited this week. The first week of March is always one of the most anticipated weeks of my year because it’s the first week of Women’s History Month, and I throw one of the best Women’s History Month parties in the country. My best girl friends and I get together in my living room every year on the first Friday in March and drink martinis, talk Betty Friedan and the impact of suffragists in the early 20th century. Then, when things get really crazy, we set up Match.com profiles.
But this year, my invitation was rescinded. I got a call from my best friend Sarah, and she said, “No dudes this year.”
“But I’m always the only dude. How about just one dude? Singular dude,” I said near tears.
“Fine. You’re right. No dude,” she said. She explained the reason for my dismissal was Rush Limbaugh’s fault because last week he said that a Georgetown grad student advocating for birth control coverage under health insurance was really asking to be paid to have sex, and therefore, was a prostitute. It makes sense if you don’t think about it. So, no men at the party this year.
I accepted Sarah’s decision and went down to my neighborhood news stand to drown my sorrows in a magazine. It was there I saw something so uplifting it almost brought me to my knees. On the cover of Elle magazine was a nude, pregnant Jessica Simpson. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. On another magazine, I saw a graphic that told me Snooki was pregnant. Then, I called a friend as I tried to gather myself. I asked him if it was true. Were all these women pregnant? He said yes, and he also told me Elizabeth Berkely was also pregnant. I couldn’t believe it. Mostly, because I didn’t know that was a person. So, I got online and it turns out she was once on TV and now she’s pregnant, so, I guess, that qualifies as news. Nonetheless, I was beside myself.