You know you're a book geek/librarian/dork when you're constantly distracted from a text with the thought, "Did anyone proofread this thing?" You get the feeling that the editors at Harper & Row threw up their hands at some point and didn't give a fuck about getting the name Alfred E. Neuman right or fixing a mistaken "know" for "now," and didn't have the fortitude for copy editing either, since the narrative frequently bounces off the rail (billiards reference). Aside from my criticism of how the book was produced (seriously, I wouldn't have released a book in that condition if I were a publisher, but I guess since Roseanne was big money in 1989 they didn't care), I did enjoy reading it.
I think men like to pretend that they are not wholly dependent on women. Women like to pretend that they are dependent on men. And there you have it, folks, the Rosie Barr view of the BATTLE OF THE SEXES.
I always insisted on being the teacher when we played school, the mother when we played house, and the star of every neighborhood play. I didn't feel then (or now) that hogging the glory is a disservice. I can do it better than anyone and, being a perfectionist, I always make sure to do everything myself.
What we need is a Woman, a mother for President, and I'm going to run someday, and my campaign motto will be "Let's vote for Rosie, and put some new blood in the White House--every twenty-eight days."
We admitted that we were powerless over being female and that our lives had become unmanageable. We came to believe that a power deep within ourselves could restore us to sanity.