The Humming Bluebird of Happiness

It’s the most annoying time of year, when all my bird-loving buddies wax(wing) rhapsodic over the “hummingbirds” and “bluebirds” and other mythological creatures they enjoy, flocking to their backyard feeders and baths. I mean, come on, guys! I did not just fall off a turnip truck! There are no such birds! I should know, because I have done everything in my power to attract them. I have set up bright red feeders, because legend has it hummers favor bold color choices. Also for those elusive and picky little buzzers, I have whipped up batches of sticky-sweet nectar from sugar water, but they’ve just drawn bees and grown mold. So tell me—where ARE the hummingbirds? Oh right, they’re in YOUR yard. I rather doubt it! 

Then of course there is the so-called bluebird. These apparitions magically appear when you hang a certain type of feeder in a specific place (on a pole, facing east for the morning sun), and provide the chirpers with a diet of fresh (not dried) mealworms. Let me just say that I do not go to this trouble for my own home and family’s food. I have no clue which part of my dwelling gets the morning sun, even after 36 years of dwelling here. And if FRESH mealworms were not conveniently located, my kids were always happy to eat the dried ones! 

 

I haven’t gone so far as to plant specific flowers for birdie-luring, because that would be excessive. Do I really want to encourage a passel of spoiled feathered brats? “Oh, you prefer sumac, tupelo and chokecherries, little friend? Planted at various spots around the yard, with open space between? Your wish is my command, Mr. Bluebird—oh wait, Ms. Hummingbird would like a word. You vastly prefer trumpet flowers, lupines and cuphea? But of course! Any other special requests? Transforming peonies? Hindu lotus flowers? Yggdrasil trees (said to connect the nine Norse worlds)? How about a Bodhi tree (Buddha’s favorite)? Oh, and don’t forget a birdbath large enough to accommodate five or six of you. With a gurgling fountain, s’il vous plait? Why the heck not? I have absolutely nothing better to do with my time and money than indulge a flaky and finicky crew of STUPID BIRDS!!!!”

 

I’m sorry, got a little emotional. It’s just my jealousy showing. Everyone else makes the slightest effort, and the exotic species beat a path to their gardens. Whereas I could create a fabulous BirdieWorld, and I still wouldn’t attract anything rarer than sparrows and the occasional robin. Because, like everything else in nature, the common denominator of failure…is me. Really. I pass by, and the sunflowers droop, the lilies wilt, the daffodils lose their daffiness. And the bluebirds and hummingbirds (if they exist at all!) fly far, far away. It’s the Curse of Elise, and I need to own it.

 

So I’ll have to content myself with looking at photos of beautiful birds, and listening to songs about them. That will at least be… cheeper. 

For Rent

 

Me as Jane, Aladdin's wisecracking genie

I spent my entire first 20-year career (I career in 20-year batches) performing in our children’s theatre plays, always pretending to be someone else. I portrayed everyone from Smee the pirate in Peter Pan, to Marie Curie in Science People. These were not subtle impersonations; my interpretations were super-energetic and rather slapstick-y. But to our four-year-old audiences, I WAS Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, etc. I felt like quite the celeb on the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk when a tiny tot would point and shout, “Mommy! It’s Snow White!” 

 

I’m long retired from show biz, and I no longer hide behind comic characters. I still identify with actors, though, especially those who are just scraping by, waiting for the elusive Big Break. Steve and I watched Rental Family the other night, starring Brendan Fraser as just such an actor. Fraser plays Philip, an American living in Japan, whose main claim to fame is playing a tube of toothpaste in a commercial. He ends up working for a company called Rental Family, which provides performers for actual life situations. Philip is tapped to be the “father” a little girl has never met, to increase the child’s chances of being accepted at an exclusive private school. Over time, he becomes emotionally involved with the family and—well, I won’t spoil this excellent movie for you. 

 

I had assumed the premise was not based on real life, but soon learned that, in Japan, these agencies really exist. You can saunter in and rent a groom for your wedding, or mourners for your funeral. Japanese society has certain rigid rules of conduct, and these pretend place-holders serve an important function—to be cover for a person operating outside the norms.

 

America has no such emphasis on conformity, so I doubt the idea would be popular here. In the USA, you can basically do whatever the heck you want, as long as you aren’t breaking the law (and, as we’re discovering, even lawbreaking no longer matters much).

 

But, if things were different, I could imagine myself as a person-renter. Several times in my life, I’d have loved to hire a surrogate to have a difficult conversation with a co-worker, or to beef up attendance at my birthday party, or to take my driver’s test for me.

 

How about you? What aspects of YOUR life would you love to outsource to a stranger? How about a “boyfriend” to break up with, and fool your folks? How about hiring a “chauffeur” to impress a visiting client? Do you agree that constructing a fabulous You 2.0 would be fun?

 

On second thought, I have a tough enough time keeping reality straight. Instead of paying for extra people to role-play and enhance my image, maybe I’d better just focus on being unexciting me, doing my best in real life interactions. 

 

I won’t look like a big winner, for sure, and I most definitely will continue to mess up. 

But on the bright side, the honesty will be good for my budget. 

Scamalot!

my sweet and too-trusting mother

While I certainly do miss her, I am grateful that my mom passed away in 2006, before the Internet became the morass it is today. It was bad enough that any random anonymous caller could (and did) keep Mom on the telephone for an hour. I can’t imagine what a financial pickle my mother would be in, were she to have been on the receiving end of scam emails. I feel so badly for my friends who are navigating this mess with their own elderly parents these days. 

And most disgusting of all are the creeps who call, pretending to be a relative in trouble (a nephew in police custody needing bail money, or a sister begging for $$$ to get home quickly from East Westvania). 

 

Not to brag, but I bet I'm probably the target of more scams than you are. I’ve learned to spot them, but early on I nearly fell for this scary message: “I’m from Microsoft, and you have a computer virus. If you let me take over your computer screen, I will fix it for you.” My favorites are the sloppy con people who send you emails with fishy addresses like Yourbank@geemail.com; “Gee,” I don’t think so! 

 

And lemme tell you, the tricksters are getting trickier every day. No more the easily-spotted, often misspelled pleas from Nigerian princes! No, with the help of A.I., the writing is smooth, and shows a very unsettling knowledge of their mark (moi). Here’s a recent email from one Carole M. Larson, Book Consultant (whatever the heck that is):

 

Hi Elise Seyfried,

 

I recently came across Everyday Matters and was genuinely drawn to its warmth, humor, and grounded spirituality. The way you illuminate the sacredness of ordinary life parenting, aging, faith, and daily routines creates a deeply relatable and comforting experience for readers who are seeking meaning in the midst of everyday chaos.

 

Books like Everyday Matters tend to resonate quietly but powerfully over time. Rather than relying on trends, they find loyal readers through trust, word-of-mouth, and thoughtful discoverability especially among faith-based audiences, parents, and readers drawn to reflective, spiritually grounded nonfiction.

 

And, cleverer still, the famous writers who suddenly want to be my pen pal: Stephen King...Nora Roberts...George Saunders... how flattering that these busy, super-successful authors have time to reach out to little old me with the digital hand of friendship!

 

Much like the flim-flammers of old, the 2026 versions are quite charming, and poised to take full advantage of people's naïveté and good nature. Well, joke’s on them! I am both sophisticated and crabby! They won’t get one dime of the $59.72 in MY bank account!

 

Seriously, though, I dream of a better world, in which this type of individual uses their smarts for good. I can see a reformed con artist pretending to be our president, on a call to Putin, and actually ending the Ukraine war.

 

Forget that--no one on earth would believe Trump was suddenly a master negotiator.

 

Not even Mom.