Misunderstood

A few years ago Brad and I had our picture taken by one of those traveling photographers that dresses you up in vintage clothes and snaps a vignette so you can have something nice to hang up next to your Billy the Big Mouthed Bass. It was a Western bar set, so they dressed Brad as a gunslinger and me as a "floozy" (their word, not mine). Except when we got the picture I simply looked like a kindergarten teacher in fish net stockings five sizes too big.

No matter how I try, I can never be convincingly bad. Maybe that's why I always root for the bad guy. It's not that I play devil's advocate exactly, more that I tend to be empathetic to a fault, feeling the pains of not just the Supermen of the world, but the Lex Luthors as well. Think about it- An all-powerful alien descends upon your planet, capable of all sorts of freakish things. Wouldn't you try to stop him too? Think of everything we could learn if he was turned over to Science! I'll bet one of his toenail clippings could cure all sorts of horrible diseases. But he stubbornly hordes them just so he can try to get into Lois Lane's Anne Tylers.

Here are a few of these defamed personalities, and my arguments for their acquittal.

Nurse Ratched. She took a run-down, mismanaged psych ward and turned it into an efficient piece of finely oiled machinery. Then that reprobate McMurphy -who, must I remind you, is a criminal- comes along and destroys it all. Why? Because he's bored. Chief makes some interesting arguments, but in the first place you have to recognize that the guy is crazy. In the second place, the things he complains about are the same things we all complain about. Routine. Monotony. Being forced to swallow bitter pills. The Man. Except in this case The Man is a woman. If she were a man, would they have tried the same thing? I think not. A man would be an acceptable authority figure. Her femininity works against her because they expect a woman to be more nurturing. What we've got here is not a sadistic nurse, but one lone, courageous woman struggling to bear the weight of misogyny and everything else that's wrong in the world.

Nellie Oleson, the arch-nemesis of one Laura Ingalls, Walnut Grove's resident goody-goody. Nellie was always my favorite character. Yes, she is spoiled, and says some nasty things, but you know what? So does Laura. And you know what else? Laura always hits first. I was looking through old video to make sure my memory served me correctly, and sure enough, for every one of Nellie's sneers, there's Laura sneering even harder, fist at the ready.

Nellie was also a lot more interesting than Laura. She was adopted, she'd lived in the city, she was in general a more adventurous spirit. And while I normally favor the brunette in any such altercation, Nellie simply had better hair.

Joan Crawford was ahead of her time. If she was around now, parenting under the same circumstances, she'd be paraded on Katie Couric and HGTV. Now there are drugs for people suffering from OCD, and olympic sized swimming pools full of understanding. Then, all they could see was villainy. But behind all the cold cream was a sick, lonely woman that just wanted to be loved.

And what was her crime anyway? So she had something against wire hangers. Does anyone like wire hangers? I watched the movie again, and I saw not an abusive mother but a bratty, disrespectful child. Crawford was a dedicated parent who took out her frustrations on grout. Big whoop.

Bill Lumberg, the soulless boss. Another case of someone being derided merely for his position in life. His staff ought to recognize in his glazed eyes and careless stance that he too is bored with his job. He doesn't want to be there either. Look at him. Does he really look like he gives a crap about the 2000 switch?

His only joy in life is his car. He worked hard for that car, and for his parking space and nice office. He feels threatened by Peter because Peter reminds him of himself when he was a cubicle guy. I'm not saying I'd want him at my Superbowl party, but come on. Give the guy a break!

Mrs. Tweedy didn't know what she was getting into when she married a chicken farmer. But she was smart and industrious, and had her eye on the future, and that is all she's guilty of. That and her enjoyment of a nice chicken dinner, but who doesn't enjoy a nice chicken dinner?

If you lived on an unprofitable chicken farm and were married to an apparent schizophrenic, wouldn't you try to do something about it? If your very livelihood built an airplane and attempted to fly away, wouldn't you go after it with an axe? Mrs. Tweedy embodies the American spirit of survival and ambition, even though she's British. So why are we taking a chicken's side over hers again? Because she has bad hair?

Next time you see someone being vilified, think about what their crime truly is. Are they really the embodiment of evil, or do they simply have a big heart for hairless cats and pinky rings? Are they really psychotic or did they try the neighborhood beauty college's new Botox injection service, forever paralyzing one eyebrow? Just step into their shoes for a few minutes and you may see things differently.

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