Rotten Eggs

Sometimes an idea or catchphrase or song will suddenly take root and before long, everyone you know is unwittingly humming that terrifically awful tune by the Black Eyed Peas referring to “my humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps” without even thinking twice about it. Richard Dawkins dubbed these cultural replicators “memes” because they “parasitize” the brain, taking hold like a mutant gene in the host cell.

Well, seems like the New York Times and New York magazine have struck on a new cultural dilemma for us to mull, since both publications feature big stories on what to do with one’s basketful of unused eggs (those of the mutant replicating kind) this week.

The publications come up with different solutions to this problem: NY mag suggests we rapidly aging ladies consider sticking our eggs in the freezer until we’re ready to crack em open later, and discusses the improving technology for deep freezing our human caviar. The NYT comes up with the revolutionary idea of “sperm banks,” and let’s us know that Sperm Bank National is not just for kooks and comedy plots anymore.

Now I must admit, I’m not particularly concerned about my crap down there at this point, despite all the other articles I’ve read recently that suggest I should be. But I am flummoxed, no, I’ll go with irritated, that the underlying message of these ostensibly “you go, girl” articles is that there’s a baby panic afoot amongst the women in my age group.

Hey editors, maybe if you’d stop shrieking about half-baked fertility ideas, suggestions and worries, we gals wouldn’t be freaking out at all.

I dunno, just a thought… which I’d love to see become a meme of my own.