‘50 Shades Of Grey’? Meh

OK, I admit it. I bought 50 Shades of Grey. I tried to read it. I can appreciate a sexual, sensual storyline and am no prude. Just the opposite, in fact.

But good grief, that book stinks.

One page in and I was rolling my eyes. One-third of the way through and I was mimicking the vapid heroine’s “Oh, my!” and giggling like a bratty schoolgirl. About halfway into the book, I gave up.

I may try again, simply because several people have told me I gave up too soon. “Give it a chance,” they tell me, “it gets better.” “The characters are great,” they say. “You’ll end up caring about them.”

“One page in and I was rolling my eyes. One-third of the way through and I was mimicking the vapid heroine’s ‘Oh, my!’ and giggling like a bratty schoolgirl. About halfway into the book, I gave up.”

What makes it worse for me is that 50 Shades is a huge best-seller. Huge. People are inhaling this book like it’s some kind of wonderful dessert. I want to like it. I do.

But … but … the writing is crap. The characters are one-dimensional and, worse, ridiculously clichéd. The sex isn’t sexy! The critics call it “mommy porn.” Have mommies fallen so low? I know a lot of mommies who have better taste than this.

Now, I’m sure many of you have read and enjoyed the book. I do not wish to anger you, insult you or question your taste. This is my opinion. But if you read it and enjoyed it, please tell me why. I’m genuinely interested.

And, yes, after thinking about it, I am going to give it another go, just to be fair. I really am curious about the hold it has on so many people. Maybe I will end up liking it and end up reading the entire trilogy. Maybe.

One week, and then my son’s Great College Adventure begins.

And guess who’s quietly freaking out? I’ll give you a hint: He’s OK. My husband’s OK. I’m the only one …

Wait! No, not quite true. My son says nothing, just buries himself in his daily routine. But when I ask, he admits he’s nervous. My husband, same thing.

Sending a kid (OK, young adult) off to a campus far from home, whether your family lives here in Hawaii or on the Mainland, is daunting. Travel is expensive, tuition is expensive, meal plans are expensive, books are expensive, etc., etc., etc. It costs money to outfit a dorm room so your poor child is not sleeping on a naked mattress and drying himself off with paper towels after a shower.

And we can only hope that, once left to his own devices, he will remember at least some of the life lessons we tried to impart. We’ve taught him how to do laundry, pick up his room and make a sandwich. Is it too much to expect that he’ll be reasonably clean, change his sheets every once in a while, and leave enough floor space so he can get out fast in case of emergency?

So, OK, we’re nervous. It’s a big change and it’s scary. But here’s what else it is: exciting. I can’t wait to see how fast he’ll figure out how many days he can go before running out of clean BVDs.