An Introduction

I love writing commentaries for Marketplace. Really I do. But writing commentaries for Marketplace is a bit like writing haiku. I get two minutes, approximately three hundred words. Within those two minutes, I have the freedom to express anything I want. As long as that anything pertains to the topics of business and economics. And as long as what I express and how I express it meet with the approval of my Marketplace Commentary Editor du Jour and "the Powers That Be," as the present owner of the Title refers to them. As with any writing gig, more often than not ideas are pitched, not swung at, and land somewhere in the outfield, among the weeds, to be retrieved later or abandoned entirely.

As much as I love the times when I do score a homerun with Marketplace’s PTB, I feel my restrictions. This is the curse of being an opinionated woman. Opinionated men have many outlets. Just turn on FOX TV for a half-hour and see that I’m right. Even in this so-called "Post-Feminist" period, when allegedly women have as much chance of shooting off their mouths as men have had since they learned to create tools, outspoken women are usually only seen in the mainstream media if their opinions support the Status Quo. If you’re a scrawny blond in a micro-mini black dress with an Adams’ Apple the size of a 1969 Buick, you can make a public living frothing at the mouth all you want, as long as that frothing is in support of Conservatives who believe a female should shut up, get married, stay home and pop out babies. This irony is only funny if one gets a lobotomy or remembers Phyllis Schlafly.

Unfortunately, even today, whether people realize it or admit it, many Americans are still uncomfortable around a woman, especially a middle-aged woman, who expresses her opinion without adding "I could be mistaken," "This is only my opinion," or "I don’t mean to disagree, but…"

I, however, am an Old School Feminist. I grew up in the 60s and 70s, when the air was thick with people expressing verboten opinions against The Establishment. I was the first girl in my elementary school to wear "slacks" (circa 1967), and was repeatedly sent home from school for it. My wonderful mother, Joan Manion, informed the principal that her daughter was not going to walk four blocks through the snow to school in only a short skirt and "tights," and no one was going to tell her how to dress me. Eventually the school gave up trying to get me out of my pants, probably figuring that I was a lost cause (I was also of mixed race and no religion, so I was trouble no matter what). Within the week, many girls came to school wearing "slacks." Social disruption is often the necessary first step in progressive improvement.

Once Upon a Time, I repressed my opinions and became a doormat. This was during my teens and early twenties. The object was to not be objectionable to males. Because, as far as my experience instructed me, males, --especially Alpha Males, to whom I, a Raging Heterosexual, am tragically attracted— are uniformly in pursuit of Alpha Females. Alpha Females are beautiful, or at least very attractive, compliant, demure, deferential, and winsome. All of which I’m not.

After a Hell’s Tour of doormattishness and bulimia ("I’ve Been to Hell, and All I Got Was This Lousy Enlightenment"), I finally accepted that I am a short, stout, scruffy little radical with a big mouth. If males, including Alpha Males, find me unattractive, it’s their loss.

I was honored when my first Marketplace editor, Elizabeth Tucker, encouraged my radical side.

Being a working-poor Feminist Progressive, I don’t quite fit in with my fellow Marketplace Commentators, who are CEOs, Ivy League economists, best-selling authors, a former Cabinet member and a former Speaker of the House.


But that was why Marketplace hired me: To offer a point of view rarely heard in the media today.

Of course, expressing my opinion often causes others to express theirs, about mine.

*actual quotes from listener emails

But these are nicely outnumbered by positive responses from listeners, some of whom tell me they look forward to my commentaries for the very reason that I’m not afraid to go against the grain.

One of my listeners went so far as to become my literary agent, for a humorous book for managers.

And Good Morning America sent me to Washington D.C. – I love Washington D.C.— to appear live on a program in which "ordinary voters" asked politicians –actually, stand-ins for the Democrats and Republicans—questions about our concerns.

In my dreams, I fantasize that my loud-mouthed pigheadedness can be an inspiration to someone, somewhere.

Even if this isn’t the case, I find that my incurable inability to keep my mouth shut gives me interesting friends and keeps life from becoming dull. Considering what a low threshold for boredom I have, that makes me happy.

So herewith is a blog, an online Column if you will, in which I can escape the limitations of my tiny corner of public radio, and express my opinions about whatever strikes my fancy. Here I will not waste my time explaining or defending my opinions. If what you read here makes you conclude that I’m a dunderhead, and you suffer from the urge to tell me this, feel free to say so in your own blog/column/website. The wonder of the Internet is, we may all of us construct an individual world suited only to our liking. This column is not a democracy, but a dictatorship. However, if you wish to contact me on a professional level, as my agent did, please do so through Marketplace. Professional inquires will be passed along to me.

Feel free to bookmark and link to my column. And please pass it along amongst those who share your amusement or your outrage.

Best regards,

Moira Manion

(footnote: I try to limit my use of copyrighted photos & art to Fair Use & parody. My banner pic is from the movie 1776, the "doormat" pic is from Northern Sun, "Alpha Male" is Jason Isaacs from Brotherhood, the black and white photos are from the original Broadway cast of Evita, and the howler monkeys came from off the web. All others are copyright free, to the best of my knowledge)