Friday, August 31, 2012

Cut the C$%^: Less Than Threeeee


A Virtual Childhood

Samantha Salis
I knew the apocalypse was coming when I saw a three year old with an iPhone. We sat outside the bathroom of a Nordstrom and she expressed how overwhelmed she was at the number of text messages she had yet to respond to. Although I was happy that this three year old had a poppin’ social life, I left the situation feeling slightly dumbfounded.
I didn’t get my first cell phone until I was 12, and at the time, that was considered early for a cell phone. Although I am not advocating an isolated, backwards way of life a la Henry David Thoreau, I fear that children being raised in the era of the iPad will be too busy playing Angry Birds to really enjoy childhood; words with friends instead of board games-- you get it. 

Childhood is really the only time that we are completely open to our surroundings. According to Professor Allison Gopnik of the University of California, Berkeley, children are more conscious than adults. They interact with their environment, unconsciously undergoing experiences that allow them to create their own maps of how the world works or how things relate. I wonder, however, if this process will still be the same if the child is fixated on mommy’s iPad rather than falling in the dirt, emulating pretend situations, or building monuments with toy legos? Will this technological era create a generation of anti social techies?
We all tend to agree that the twenty-first century is the best era to be living in: vaccinations and scientific achievements have extended our life span; education has made us enlightened about our impact on the world; reality TV has given us constant access to an immediate self-esteem boost. But, technology is so addictive; a study at Stanford proved that iPhone addiction is a legitimate pathology. Yes, I agree with keeping kids safe---but when is your 5 year old ever going to be alone without an adult? At what point is it rational to give a child a smart phone? Is this something that parents should be thinking twice about? Is being able to provide your young child with a smart phone a part of the American dream?
 The "Is This Real Life?" Column, Samantha Salis:

Sam is a Psychology Major and Political Economy Minor at UC Berkeley. She is a dedicated young 
woman, ambitious and sharp as a whip. Our dear Samantha tutors high schoolers and works at a 
Psychology lab at UC Berkeley. Even with this busy schedule, Ms. Salis creates the time to divulge to us 
her insider perspective on the world around us, backed with thorough research. Enjoy!

Thursday, August 30, 2012

All Around the World: Barry McGee, Escaping Into the City

Barry McGee---The World Beyond the Wall
Berkeley Art Museum
August 24, 2012- December 9, 2012

Asheley Gao

            When all the artists are trying to push their artworks into the museums, Barry McGee only wants to get them out. His art starts from the corner of the gallery, slowly crawls across the wall, fills the ceiling, oozes out of the window and stretches onto the exterior facade of the museum, ever expanding. Frames, bottles, spray paint, and cubes keep unfolding on themselves on the wall until they fill in every single blank and defy all the spatial boundaries, as if trying to find that one crack on the wall that will set them free and lead them home, home to the noisy street corners where they belong.

            Barry McGee, born, raised and trained in San Francisco, knows every nook and cranny of the city. His heart belongs to the empty walls, trash valleys, spiked fences and neon lights of the Mission district, spray-painting his passion, obsession and addiction to the heart and soul of San Francisco. The district, with a deep Latino root, encompasses various subcultures which inspire mural masters like Diego Rivera to add their own color to the cityscape. Barry McGee celebrates this eclecticism while criticizes the downside of capitalism prosperity brought to the neighborhood by the dot-com bubble. The people who have lost their jobs, homes and dreams roam the streets in the Mission, finding their reflection in McGee’s murals, graffiti, and even empty beer bottle installations. Deep-set eyes, hollow cheekbones and twisted eyebrows are all captured and exaggerated in McGee’s simple and fluid outlines, constantly reminding the audience of their surroundings, that their existence in a broader context.
            This reminder could not be stronger when the Berkeley Art Museum welcomes Barry McGee with enclosed walls and low ceilings for his art. In a museum with a concrete window-less facade, McGee’s art seems to be shrouded and guarded by layers and layers of cement, as if a piece of jewelry in a giant safe. As his installations overflows from the first floor gallery to the bottom floor atrium, a 7,000-square-foot open space with elongated glass panels, they momentarily break free from the confinement of gallery walls and breathe in the light. A compilation of old televisions, stacking on top of one another, flash vibrant colors and his signature op-art painted geometric patterns; another pile of panels, reflecting similar motif but static, create a waterfall of colors that lands on a dilapidated brick house. The house carries much of McGee’s retro business signs and color blocks which are heavily influenced by pop art. The solid grey walls of the atrium provide a perfect backdrop for McGee’s colors as well as smoothing out the transformation of the atrium to a street corner in San Francisco.
            The transformation, however, could never be completed, and it was never meant to be. McGee’s art is made with contradiction, bold colors against stern gray interior, bulging liquor bottles against flat gallery walls, and most importantly, street art against museum art. McGee’s art is born on the streets and live for the streets; it breathes in the urban air and breathes out the exhaustion with unruly vitality. Therefore when uprooted and preserved in a treasure box, the art seems so out of place. Even the spray painted door and the bold red “SNITCH” on the museum exterior cannot imitate the spirit of vandalism and rebellion (the SNITCH is not even on the wall.It is spray painted on a giant piece of plastic wrap on the surface of the wall, for protection). McGee’s art belongs to the world beyond the wall, the world that cannot be protected, plastic-wrapped and preserved. 

 The Culture Columnist, Asheley Gao:

My name is Asheley Gao and I’m a junior at Cal, majoring in History of Art and minoring in French. I grew up in Asia, the land of dragons and jasmine green tea, as a kid with too much imagination. Indulging myself in exploring different cultures and what they have to offer (art, movies, cuisine, you name it!), I’m on my way to becoming a woman whose country is the whole world. Along with all the excellent writers at Unleashed, I would love to share with you my adventure and take you all around the world.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Ripple Effect: The Influence of Nerves

The Influence of Nerves
Sasha Martin

      "I-I-I-I-I Iloveyou!" She says, biting her lip nervously. Change of scene: "I... I... I'm so sorry Carla, I can't do this any longer. We... we... I... we... I... we have to break up--it's not you, it's me!" Change of scene: "Uh.... so... dad? You know that report card I got about 2 weeks ago? Uh... well, I may or may not have gotten a C somewhere in there..." Change of scene: "Holy shit! Oh my fucking god! I can't do it!! Oh my god, I'm doing it! I'm sky diving, right nooooooo--!"

     Yes, the power of nervousness works in funny ways. Sometimes it keeps us from doing something we'd like, leaving us in an oddly unsatisfied comfort zone that leads to later regrets. Sometimes it makes us stutter or hold back intensities. Sometimes it makes us joke around like we don't care, when inwardly, the topic addressed is of the utmost importance. Sometimes, it makes us so on edge that odd jumbles of swear words pour forth from our mouths mindlessly. Though it makes life unpredictably thrilling, nervousness can be a dirty obstacle to overcome.
       A typical example ... 
       Waiting in the hall before class, the air is always thick with the nervous, "should I start a conversation?", everyone quietly trying to look busy by shifting from one foot to the next. All it takes is one person to initiate a conversation, or open the classroom door to get seated because the room is clearly empty, and yet, the feet keep shifting and mouths stay nervously clamped shut. If someone does finally step up and, say, open the door of the classroom to get settled and wait for the professor, everyone trickles behind and the once stagnant atmosphere becomes chaotic with the stampede of following students, moving as though they'd never stood still. Or, when the first person to finally make an effort to speak says, "hello," all of a sudden everyone becomes much more at ease with talking, when before their lips would quiver with the energy of: I want to talk, but should I say it or is it the right time? 

   So, why is this? Why is it that people wait for someone else to make the first move? They do they need the validation of another person to say it's ok-- need someone to follow. We see this every day. People get nervous when they feel like they are on the spotlight, even irrationally so.

     Another example...
     A guy and a girl will be sitting next to each other, the sexual chemistry eating away at the air between them. Students, or maybe colleagues, stream by busily around them. What will they do? Most of the time they will avoid eye contact at all costs, and eventually part ways, looking back over their shoulders wistfully. How often do men or women take a leap of faith and at least talk to the other person, and at most ask for a number-- in reality, there is nothing to lose in going out on a limb with a stranger. The fear of rejection, especially in front of a crowd, is paralyzing to some. But, if anything, the loss is found in not taking the extra step because that person sitting inches away, that person that makes all your senses extra aware and your heart beat faster? Could be the love of your life! Your next one-night-stand! Your soon-to-be ex you'll never speak to again. Any which way, wouldn't it be more satisfying to find out for yourself instead of giving up before, "hello"?

    Even telling someone how you feel is difficult at times. You rehearse it over and over in your head, and end up just blurting it out because you are so nervous, it's the only way you'll ever get the words out! Well, from now on, consider your own nervousness. Is it the kind that should be soothed or the kind that should be challenged? Is it the kind that worries of rejection or losing the comfort of the norm? If so, then challenge it and do what's making you nervous! The point is to be the leader your body wishes you to be, and "just do it"! Whatever it is your body is aching to do, but your nerves are holding you back-- "just do it"! Because once you do, you'll wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place! 

      Baby steps. Next time you're in front of a classroom waiting to be let in? Count how long it takes for people to make conversation or to enter the classroom without the teacher. Look at the type of people who start the conversations. Are they comfortable with themselves? Leaders? Most likely. And, the time after that? Be that leader! Don't be the nervous follower who later sits down and wonders, "what would it have been like if I had just said, 'hello'?"

Women in the World and Relationships Section, Sasha Martin:         

   I made my own major, concerning emotions explored through literature, art, cognitive science and psychology, and am minoring in creative writing at UC Berkeley. My passions are writing and the arts in general. I created Unleashed for the empowerment and enlightenment of women everywhere. I am the editor, designer and a contributing writer, and happen to be extremely proud of the staff Unleashed has developed. I truly hope this magazine speaks to each and every woman.   

Monday, August 27, 2012

Words of Wisdom: Can You Feel It?

Can you feel it?
Lia Vosti

Can you feel it? Can you feel the ground under your feet? Can you feel the stillness of the air, the way it feels as it rushes into your lungs? Can you feel the energy of the space around you? What about the energy inside of you? Can you feel it?

People say, “moments come and moments go,” but in the middle of those two clauses is a moment, happening

Time is a funny thing. When we talk about it, we divide it into the past and the future so that our lives are made up of moments and events that have already happened, are currently happening, and are soon to happen. And, most oddly, when we communicate with one another? We most often experience something, conjure up a thought worthy of sharing, and finally open our mouth to articulate that thought. This process clearly takes time. Not a lot, but just enough to categorize those words as the past, prohibiting us from talking about a moment while we are still in it. We seldom see this as a shortcoming of speech, as we know no different, but it is one. 

I don’t mean to devalue the art of speaking. Its benefits are clear, and it remains one of humanity’s primary means of communication. But, I believe the truest way to enjoy a moment is not to talk about it, but to feel it in its entirety. 

Sometimes we plan for perfect moments, sometimes we don’t. Arguably, we plan for less than half of the perfect moments that occur in our lives. But whether they are planned or spontaneous, your response should be the same: quiet absorption of all that your senses perceive.  

This morning I sat on my porch, the fresh air drawing the sleep from my face. It was raining, but not cold. I held a warm cup of coffee between my palms. I took a sip, and felt proud that I brewed a cup of coffee that actually tasted good. This was my perfect moment. So I just sat there, and felt it.  

When you happen to stumble upon a perfect moment, feel it. Breathe it in. Let it tingle your cells and make them come alive. We were given senses for a reason, to connect us to the world around us. So use them! Pay attention to what you hear, taste, smell, see, and feel; pay attention to the way the world touches you. 

You’re alive, can you feel it?

"... it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst ...
And then I remember ... to relax, and not try to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life."
-American Beauty

The Woman Behind the Monthly Words of Wisdom:
Lia Vosti is an undergraduate at Santa Clara University, majoring in Bioengineering. Growing up together, her words always made the most obscure situations crisp and clear. It is clear that she is the up and coming Renaissance woman, able to give homely advise after a day in the lab.   

Page Turners: Real World Disney

Real World Disney's Mansion Location (before the guests arrive).

Real World: Disney
Caroline Lewis


Peter Pan, 23, from Never Land: Oh my God, hello! My name is Peter, and I am quite excited to go on another adventure with the Real World. I enjoy flying with my pal, Tink, and watching pirate movies with Wendy. I guess you could say that I’m looking forward to being around people that aren’t children for a change. As I said, I’m super duper excited. It’s time to let loose!

Snow White, Age 24, from the forest: Hi, my name is Snow. I enjoy long walks through the forest with my animal friends, but only during the day, of course. My favorite activity to do is to make dumpling stew for my men at home. Warning, I am a total neat freak—if I see any dust or cobwebs, out they go!

Prince Eric, 26, from land: My name is Eric and I am looking forward to being on this season of the show. I think I’m a pretty laid back kind of guy that is just looking to meet some cool people and build some relationships. Speaking of relationships, I am in one with my beautiful girlfriend, Ariel, who just so happens to be a mermaid; so I’m not looking to date any girls. Sorry ladies! Fins, or no, I'm committed! 

Tiana, 22, New Orleans: Hay, I’m Tiana, also known as ‘that one girl who turned into a frog.’ Not a stage in my life that I am very proud of, but at least I’m versatile, okay? But seriously, there better not be any frogs in this mansion. I love to cook and wouldn’t mind stirrin’ up a little somethin’ somethin’ for the rest of the housemates—show them what Louisiana is all about. Oh, and a warning, I get along with most people, but if someone tries to pick a fight at me, I will hit a bitch.

Gaston, 28, a little town in France: Hey there. The name’s Gaston. MTV, I’m gonna tell you right out, ladies want this. I’m just saying, look at me. I’m gorgeous. Yeah, long story short, I’ve got the muscles, the looks, and the charm. No girl can resist Gaston. Most men probably can’t either.

Cinderella, 25, from a little village: My name is Cinderella. And yes, I also wonder why my parents ever named me that. I’m guessing they were either intoxicated or wanted to play a cruel joke on me. Anyways, I’m excited to be a part of this season of the Real World because I’ve always been a fan of the show. When my evil stepmother and stepsisters would go out, I would secretly watch this show instead of clean—don’t tell anyone. Actually, they told me I wasn’t allowed to be on this show; hopefully they won’t notice I’m gone.

Aladdin, 26, from Agrabah: My name is Aladdin. Let’s just say I’m not afraid to splurge a little. I mean, you might see me wearing some Armani, Christian Dior, or Valentino on occasion. When ladies realize I’ve got the green, they can’t keep their hands off of me. What? I’m not really rich? Of course I am! My Genie just helped me out a little bit . . .

Pocahontas, 24, America: My name is Pocahontas, which means “Little Mischief” in my language, but that is so false. I may go on adventures every now and then or go around a river bend, but I assure you I am a good girl. Do I have a tattoo? No. Well, yeah, just one. But everyone in my tribe has one so it doesn’t count.

This is the true story... of eight strangers... picked to live in a together and have their lives taped... to find out what happens... when people stop being polite... and start getting real...The Real World: Disney.

Day 1: The Meeting

The first to arrive at the house are Snow White and Tiana, who shared a cab from the airport.

Snow White: Oh! Tiana look at this giant cottage!

Tiana: It’s called a mansion, Snow. Pretty different from your neck of the woods, huh?

Snow White: Yes, very much. Just look at all the cupboards; I can make so much dumpling soup.

Tiana: Eww. Please don’t.

Snow White: It is a little bit messy though. You get the dust pan and I’ll get the broom!

Tiana: Can you at least wait until everyone else gets here? You dusted the cab like six times. Hey, I think someone else is here . . . 

Peter Pan flies through the door and lands on the ground, hands on hips.

Peter Pan: Oh my God, hello! I have arrived. Is anyone home?

Snow and Tiana walk into the room.

Snow White: Why look, it’s a dwarf!

Tiana: I think that’s a man. Hi, I’m Tiana.

Peter Pan: Oh, how delightful! Just look at that dress, is that Versace? And those shoes are to die for. God, I wish I had your cheekbones! And who are you? (He looks at Snow White)

Snow White: I’m Snow White.

Peter Pan: Umm yes doll I can see that, you’re paler than I don’t know what. Perhaps some more eye shadow will help bring some color to your face. But what is your name?

Tiana: Her name is Snow White. Who are you?

Peter Pan: I’m Peter Pan, from Never Land. And oh my geezus, the flight over here was soooo long. And the service? Sooo horrific! Like I ordered a caramel macchiato, and was it hot when I got it? As if! I said to myself ‘Never again, Peter Pan! Never again!’

Tiana: Nice tights.

Peter Pan: Aren’t they just divine? They do tend to make my butt look fat though.

Tiana: (To Snow White) Is he wearing eyeliner or is it just me?

Snow White: It does look like it. I should bring some for my men at home!

Tiana: Trust me, I don’t think you want to do that. (To Peter) Well, me and Snow were just looking around. Care to join us?

Peter Pan: Oh, yes. Let’s go claim our beds! I call topsies!

Snow White: Peter, don’t be silly. Of course all of the beds have our names carved on them.

Peter flies upstairs to check.

Tiana: Show off.

A loud thud echoes in the hallway.

Tiana: What in the world was that? I hope there’s not two of them.

Aladdin appears around the corner floating on his magic carpet.

Tiana: This isn’t fair.

Snow White: Excuse me, may I sweep your carpet? Look how dusty it is. It’s making a mess!

Aladdin: That won’t be necessary miss. (He whistles). And who might this little tiger be?

Tiana: (Laughs) Don’t waste your time, it’s never going to happen.

Aladdin: Oh a feisty tiger? Did you know I have a Genie.

Tiana: I don’t want to know what you call it, perv. It’s not happening! Eww.

Tiana stomps out the room.

Aladdin: She’ll come around.

Snow White: Well I’m Snow White.

Aladdin: That’s nice. Where’s everyone else?

Snow White: There’s only four of us so far. Peter is upstairs looking for his name on the beds.

Aladdin: Names on the beds, what are we in daycare? Back where I’m from I have 5 beds. You know, cause I’m rich. Just in case you couldn’t tell already.

Aladdin leaps off his carpet and runs up the stairs.

Snow White: Well carpet, as long as your owner isn’t around, I have the right to wash you!

Snow White reaches for the carpet but it escapes her grasp.

Snow White: I’ll get you!

Meanwhile, in the front yard . . .

Cinderella: Oh it’s not that heavy, Godmother. Lift!

Godmother: Cinderella, you packed way too many shoes.

Cinderella: I know, but what if I lose one? Always take precaution.

A hand takes the suitcase from the Godmother.

Gaston: Please, allow me.

Cinderella: Oh, a man! Are you a prince?

Gaston: For you baby, I could be.

Godmother: Oh, God....

Cinderella: So, you are a prince! How lovely!

Gaston: So is this how you dress when you go onto television shows? In rags?

Cinderella: Umm, yes? I only wear dresses when I go to balls.

Gaston: That can be arranged.

Cinderella: Oh, he really is a prince!

Godmother: Sometimes I wonder about you, girl.

The three enter the house.

Gaston: Not bad, not bad at all. I hope there’s a Jacuzzi.

Cinderella: Look a fireplace! I think I’m going to like it here!

Prince Eric and Pocahontas walk in through the side door.

Eric: And that’s why you shouldn't eat seafood. Trust me, it’s just not right.

Pocahontas: I guess that makes sense. Have you tried corn? That stuff is fabulous.

Cinderella: Oh, hello. I’m Cinderella. Are you here for the Real World show?

Eric: Yes, we are. I’m Prince Eric. And this is Pocahontas. We met each other trying to find our way here.

Cinderella: Did you say Prince?

Next time on the Real World: Disney— Things get hot in the mansion as feelings grow, temperatures rise, and secrets surface. Walt Disney never saw this coming . . .

Creative Writing Columnist, Caroline Lewis: 

My name is Caroline Lewis, I am a super-senior at Cal (they just can't get rid of me!), and I am studying Integrative Biology with a minor in Creative Writing. Some might be thinking, "Why, those have absolutely nothing to do with each other" but I love writing fiction, it's my means of escape from the rigorous world of science. I especially love to incorporate humor into my writing; sometimes you have to search for it, but don't worry it's hidden in there somewhere! I hope you enjoy my work as much as I love creating it, and I look forward to working with this great group at Unleashed.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Sunday Comics!

Ripple Effect: The Closeness of the Past

The Closeness of the Past
Sasha Martin

Here's a riddle for you: A father and his son get into a car accident-- rear ended on the 101, spinning violently from the road. The father dies on impact, and the son is whisked away in an ambulance to the hospital. The son has internal bleeding and must be seen right away. At the hospital, the doctor rushes in to treat the sick boy, and upon seeing the boy says, "I can't treat him, he's my son." Who is the doctor?

I won't answer this riddle till the end of the article. As the years tick by, women's skirts get shorter and their heels grow taller. In fact, some researchers have correlated that, over the years, the more "rights" women won, the scantier clothed they became. Of course, this has a lot to do with clothing trends, right? But, wait a second... where do clothing trends come from? Society. And, what does society want? Who is the predominant voice? What do women cater their fashion towards in the media? Right. You might begin to wonder: who is really winning here? 

Back in the day, during World War II, as men departed from the homes to fight, women took their places in the industrial work world. This was encouraged with signs of strong women fighting at home while their men were fighting away. Many see this as quite empowering for women-- a step in the right direction. And yet, doesn't it seem as though women moved from one prison (self-employed cleaning ladies, in the chains of their vacuums) to another prison just as real (the factories, etc)? Did women really win any more freedom? Or, were they just placed from one restricted area into another, always controlled? 

Today, women have worked their way into CEO positions, high ranking political positions, lawyers, etc. Women have come a long way. Though western women still suffer from inequality and demeaning associations, it might help to review women's past. Not only can we see then how far women have advanced, but also realize how much more room we have to still grow. We can realize how many stereotypes and treatments today are really just ghosts of another era, in which women were no more than materials to be owned. Our mothers, our grandmothers, our great grandmothers? Look into the world they knew through the everyday advertisements seen around the 1950's: A Man's World.

Recognize the brands?

Hoover Vacuums (available at Sears):
"Christmas morning she'll be happier with a Hoover" 

"When you're out of Schlitz, you're out of beer"...
So, "Don't worry darling, you didn't burn the beer!" As she weeps.  

Golden Peacock Bleach Creme, "only last week muddy skin made her homely." So, let's bleach it and "Now men adore her milky-white skin!"

"When tempted to over-indulge, reach for a Lucky instead!" (Lucky Strikes) And, if that doesn't work? Try "Sanitized tape worms!".... 

Van Heusen (available at Kohls, and many other stores):
"Show her it's a man's world"

Van Heusen Shirts, again: 
"It's Daring    
It's Audacious    
It's the Bolder Look in Shirts"

Tipalet? Need a light? "Blow in her face and she'll follow you anywhere."

Delmonte Ketchup:
"You mean a woman can open it?"

"Gosh, honey, you seem to thrive on cooking, cleaning and dusting and I'm all tuckered out by closing time. What's the answer?"
"Vitamins, darling!"

Deodorant, Amolin with Norwich:
"3) Amolin protects delicate lingerie and keeps elastic girdles fresh."

"Not, 'is she clever?'"

"The brightest jewel of all can be your lips"
Interesting how phallic a lipstick tube can become. 

Chase & Sanborn Coffee:
If a woman brings stale coffee home.

"Frees the little woman... The whole family will thank you, too ... because Mother will have more time to spend with the children."
And, from what the advertisement implies, three times a day is a euphemism for a 'happy ending' three times a day. If we only realized that something as unromantic as a garbage disposal could bring about such romance! 

Maidenform, the store so many women run to when Victoria's Secret is too expensive:
"Shapes and forms your figure naturally."
Little did any of us know, breasts usually look like Madonna's metal bra. 

"O-o-oh Santa, I just love that Microsheen shine!...
Miss Microsheen, and every other slick chick, recognize quietly when they see it."
This is an advertisement for stain boot polish. 


no longer to cure women's pains but for men's emotional stress once a month.
"It's nice to have a girl around the house."

"The real problem, as you very well know, is how to keep the most girl part of you fresh and free of any worry-making odors. It's just essential to your cleanliness and your peace of mind about being a girl. An attractive, nice-to-be-with-girl."

 "After a tough evening with the Beethoven crowd, she loves to relax and listen to her folk-rock records. Preferably, on your stereo. Well? Should you offer? After all, if she likes the offer, she might start to play. No strings attached."

"WIVES: Look this ad over carefully. Circle the items you want for Christmas. Show it to your husband. If he does not go to the store immediately, cry a little. Not a lot. Just a little. He'll go, he'll go...
HUSBANDS: Look this ad over carefully. Pick out what your wife wants. Go buy it. Before she starts to cry."

Back to the riddle as promised. Who on earth was that doctor? Who could that have been? The father is dead... so, could it have been maybe a gay father? The doctor came back to life? Maybe the father in the accident wasn't the boy's real father because he was adopted?
The guesses go on and on.
The answer, however, is quite simple:
The mother. 
I've told that riddle countless of times. Do you want to know how many people have been able to answer it?

Women in the World and Relationships Section, Sasha Martin:         

   I made my own major, concerning emotions explored through literature, art, cognitive science and psychology, and am minoring in creative writing at UC Berkeley. My passions are writing and the arts in general. I created Unleashed for the empowerment and enlightenment of women everywhere. I am the editor, designer and a contributing writer, and happen to be extremely proud of the staff Unleashed has developed. I truly hope this magazine speaks to each and every woman.