Whimsy and Weirdness

Happy Meatloaf!

Whimsy. Weird. One means light, fun, fanciful. The other means odd, strange, bizarre. I would argue that defining something/someone as “weird” or “whimsical” is super subjective and that, often, they go beautifully together. 

A recent article in the New York Times’ “Well” newsletter supports this assertion. In it, the author lists several qualities of a happy life. #1 is Create weird rituals. The example cited is a behavioral scientist who always places birthday candles in a baked meatloaf before serving it, and has his dinner guests then merrily sing “Happy Meatloaf to You!” I hope he alerts his company to this weird ritual beforehand, because otherwise he might risk eating meatloaf alone for the rest of his life. 

 

Pretending a meatloaf is a chocolate layer cake certainly qualifies as weird—but also whimsical, especially if the scientist insists on everyone wearing little party hats. That is the only weird ritual described in the article, but I’m sure there are tons more. Adults who don bulbous red clown noses when attending church. Job applicants who list “Pig Latin” as their second language. Folks who make their beds on the floor, and use their actual beds as nightstands. Families who enjoy barking and chasing cars in the neighborhood. Be honest, don’t you do some of these yourself? I know I do!  And they (the church clown nose and the car-chasing) definitely boost my happiness, even as they deeply trouble my neighbors. 

 

The same day I read the Happy Life article, I stumbled upon a TikTok comment thread replying to a TikTokian request for “silly, fun things you say and do!” Well, talk about whimsical AND weird! Someone says she’ll only criticize herself using a Cockney accent. Another, having made a mess, responds by muttering "and...scene!” as if she’s directing a movie starring a clumsy goofball. Ordering an item for yourself from Amazon and filling in “is this a gift?” with the message: “I deserve a little treat!” Telling your pet hamster not to answer the door while you’re away. 

 

Aren’t these adorable? I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as telling my unwashed dishes “it’s bath time!” but that’s only because Steve does all the dishes in our house. And I don’t say “thanks—good to know!” when Siri responds, but that’s only because I have no idea how to use Siri. Otherwise, they’re solid suggestions, sure to gain me a wide reputation for being madcap.

 

However, just because one CAN be weird and whimsical, doesn’t mean it’s always a good idea. Would you trust an offbeat (get it?) police officer (“I have you clocked going 450 miles per hour! Or maybe my clock is broken! Haha!”)? How about choosing a funeral director (“We thought Grandma would look better wearing ‘fake glasses and mustache’ at her viewing!”)?

 

I guess it’s really only safe to be a W and W sort if you're a comedian, or you don’t mind if your friends think you’re crazy. 

 

Luckily, I qualify on both counts. 

don't we all?

Lemonading

 

Rose and her friend Hannah (and tiny Julie) back in the day

 

What can I say about lemons?

 

One (spelled Lemmon) was a fine actor.

Lululemon is an activewear brand that I’d wear (if I was ever active).

Then there’s my orange Gremlin (first car--a total lemon, its color notwithstanding)

I used to think that putting lemon juice on my face would help get rid of my freckles. Nope!

Lemons perk up the flavor of fish, and make a dandy meringue pie as well.

I know someone who has a lemon tree in their house that actually produces lemons.

I also know that Peter, Paul and Mary had a hit song about a lemon tree. Not my friend’s lemon tree, though. Another one.

 

Then there’s the sage advice: “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.”

 

I admit, I struggle with that suggestion. I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense to just give those lemons right back to life? “No thanks, and please don’t hand me any more of these. I’ll take some Godiva chocolates though, or some pricey jewelry—as long as you’re handing me stuff.”

 

But no. Apparently THOSE lemons are non-returnables, and I am now supposed to do something wonderful with them. Which is sometimes possible, but often not really. How to make lemonade out of your dire medical diagnosis, or a death in the family? Don’t have that recipe, alas. You’re fired from your job a week before you can receive retirement benefits? Wait a sec—let me whip up some tasty lemony beverage and we’ll toast that incorrigible ex-boss of yours!

 

I realize that it’s the attitude adjustment that is the point. Such as: always look on the bright side/it could be worse/at least you still have (fill in the blank). Chin up, cheer up, turn that frown upside down!

 

Here’s the problem, though. My personal attitude doesn’t adjust all that well. When things are horrible, they just ARE, and I feel horrible about those horrible things. Why is that so…horrible? For instance, while I try to find a silver lining in my bipolar disorder, a lot of the time I just hate that I have it. It is not a “blessing,” in or out of disguise. When I give myself permission to grieve about my mental illness, paradoxically, I usually feel much better. 

 

Toxic positivity is real. It’s born of society’s unwillingness to deal with pain, an inability to empathize. Far better to live in La La Land (the magical place where everyone covers their ears and sings “lalala” to drown out sadness and difficulty). And honestly? I think it’s a reason we’re in such a pickle right now—too many just refuse to see our country falling apart (making it tough to do anything about it). 

 

My sage advice? The next time life hands you a lemon, recognize it for the sour tasting thing it is. Cry if you need to. Feel those sad feelings. They are the beginning of wisdom, and compassion. And they will make the better times ahead, all the sweeter. 

 

Promise.

Go West, Old Mom

And away we went--all three of us!

 

I’m not a fan of “solo travel.” By which I mean, going anywhere much by myself. I see pix of intrepid gals (of all ages) gleefully alone, bar-hopping through Egyptian pyramids, surfing in Venice’s famous canals, perched atop ancient Galapagos tortoises. Bully for them! Apparently, they enjoy their own company PLUS they don’t have a video titled “Horrible Outcomes” playing 24/7 in their heads. Alas, I am the polar opposite (I’m not wowed being with me; I always play the scary interior vid). 

 

So, when I hatched a plan to fly out (just me), to the West Coast (the “W.C.” as it’s called by the locals—unless I’m mistaken?) to visit Evan in Seattle, and attend the premiere of Sheridan’s new piano trio in Southern California, my excitement was matched by my dread. Dreaded the airports and the flights! Dreaded the shady Ubers I’d be taking here and there! Even knowing my sons would be with me most of the time, I still regretted not taking a traveling companion along. Someone to keep track of my I.D. and boarding passes, to distract me with chatter during take off, landing, and at 30,000 feet! 

 

Well, as it turned out, I was never really alone. 

 

A couple of weeks before my journey, the osteoarthritis in my left knee flared up. Shortly thereafter, I developed a large, painful cyst in the middle of my back. These two nasty ailments accompanied me everywhere I went. To give them their due, they did keep my mind off possible midair collisions and Uber driver/kidnappers. When you’re in such extreme discomfort, you don’t even notice that your 3-minute ride from hotel to concert hall cost almost $30 (oh that pricey W.C.!), and that there was no food offered, and only one appearance of a beverage cart, on a 6+ hour flight. 

 

But that “plus” aside, my medical issues were pretty dreadful travel companions. They were constant reminders that I will be navigating their like (and worse) pretty much from now on. I'm very blessed to have been spared serious illness and injury so far, but those days are numbered.

 

Meanwhile, pesky physical annoyances like bum knees have been cropping up more as I've aged in the past few years, and they seem more pronounced when I’m on the road. Was it only nine years ago that I climbed the endless flights of stairs inside the Arc du Triomphe in Paris?  

Nowadays it would be a “triomphe” to tackle even five or six STEPS. I was recently tempted to leave a negative review of Prague Castle on Tripadvisor: “Why is this at the top of such a steep hill?? No matter that the elevation was an effective defense in time of war! Very thoughtless of those 15^th century castle builders! Zero stars!"

 

I’m home now, after a (mostly) lovely trip. Next time, though, I won’t let my aches and pains tag along. “Art” and “Cys,” you guys are officially uninvited. Those kinds of travel buddies, I don’t need.

Steve at Dunnotar Castle, Stonehaven, Scotland (we knew enough not to attempt THAT climb!)

OK Ko

 

Japanese calendar with 72 (count 'em) microseasons

As we all know, there are four seasons: Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall. There are also several Four Seasons restaurants and Four Seasons hotels, movie and TV show. Can’t forget Four Seasons Total Landscaping in Northeast Philly, where rich and famous politicians go to mingle and hold weird press conferences. Even tots understand the way the year is split up, from snowman time to flower/shower time to beach time to goblin time. 

 

But there has to be another way to look at the passage of the year. A way that celebrates the multitude of natural changes each week or so brings, in a poetic manner. Well, leave it to the Japanese! It’s called kō, and it’s a unique traditional calendar featuring not just four, but a whopping 72 micro-seasons. Each season, lasting approx. five or six days, is named and claimed for a specific natural development during that part of the year. Here are a few examples:

 

February 9–13 黄鶯睍睆 Kōō kenkan su.  Bush warblers start singing in the mountains

April 30–May 4 牡丹華 Botan hana saku  Peonies bloom

July 12–16 蓮始開 Hasu hajimete hiraku First lotus blossoms

 

I LOVE this! Though I do wonder how precise these milestones are. I mean, if on October 18-22 “crickets chirp around the door,” well, whose door? Everyone’s? And are they silent as church mice--I mean, church crickets--on October 17 and 23? I envision an annual National Cricket Chirping Tally, as thousands of earnest Japanese naturalists and poets fan out from Tokyo to Kyoto, checking all the doors for signs of chirppage. That sounds a bit unrealistic to me. Better perhaps to amend it to: “a number of crickets chirp around some doors.” There we go! Much more accurate, and we’ve drained all the poetry out of it too!

 

If I had a chance to come up with a seasonal calendar, which way would I go? 

 

I could go the lazy way (always a fave way of mine) and have just two seasons: “Too hot” and “Too cold.”

 

Easy-peasy, but not very exciting.

 

Or we could increase the four to 24 seasons, to wit:

 

July 1-5 “Back to School!” and July 6-31 “Trick or Treat!”

December 1-23 “Send Christmas cards!” and December 24-31 “Nah, maybe next year.”

 

That sounds like a lot of work.

 

Maybe a happy medium…eight seasons, such as:

 

September through Mid-October: Pumpkin spice latte season

Mid-October through November: Jack O’Lantern spice latte and pie season

 

It’d be a boon to the folks who make those nylon flags your always-festive neighbors hoist, with snowflakes and autumn leaves on them. They’d have double their business, and keep the neighbors too busy hoisting and unhoisting to make snide comments about your drab, flagless home.

 

You know? I guess I don’t care that much about shaking up the system. Let our Japanese friends mark the ripening of the rice and the hiding of the rainbows. 

 

72 is a no- kō for me. I’ll stick with the Big Four after all. 

photo by Bagus Pangestu on Pexels

Mercy Buckets!

image by Christian Dorn on Pixabay

As a multi-language appreciator (as opposed to multi-language speaker), I am always fascinated to learn all the different international words that mean the same thing. You know: Hola! Ni Hao! Guten tag! Bonjour! (they all mean “excuse me, which way is the restroom?” of course).

Just kidding! (La Broma! La Blague! Lo Scerzo! Der Witz!)

 

Even more funner, are the idiosyncratic PHRASES for things like “good luck”…

 

In the mouth of a wolf (Italian) Good luck for the wolf, I guess?

Break a neck and a leg (German) Those German overachievers!

Fingers crossed (Swedish) Nice, positive wish

Fight! (Korean) A tad bit more AGGRESSIVE wish, no?

 

And here are some novel ways to convey gratitude:

 

May you have goodness (Irish Gaelic) Awww, such a sweet sentiment!

I feel heart (Taiwanese) Awww, even sweeter!

Stay healthy (Turkish) Is that thankfulness, or an instruction from your doctor?

May your hand not hurt (Persian) This one’s a little tepid—kinda like saying “Thanks for driving! Hope you don’t crash!”

 

The problem is, most countries do not suggest the fracture of multiple body parts when wishing someone good fortune. In most countries, that phrase might even be seen as a threat, something a crime boss might snarl. 

 

As the saying goes, “We are 185 countries divided by many different languages!” Or something to that effect. And that’s a shame!

 

We can do much better, peeps of the world! Wouldn’t it be swell to stub your toe and have your curses be the exact same curses that are screamed everywhere on the planet?

 

In the spirit of better global understanding, I have decided to invent some new phrases that EVERY land can use. None of this strange “avoir la peche!” or “"shinrin-yoku" for “I’m happy!” Is the pinnacle of joy in France REALLY being in possession of a peach?  “Avoir le croissant” makes tons more sense to me. And in Japan, the height of delight is—forest bathing? Given the crunchy leaves and twigs on the forest floor, I cast my vote for “big fancy tub bathing” instead.

 

Anyhoo, here are a few of my creations. Please use and share widely as you travel near and far!

 

Instead of saying “I’m sorry!” how about: 

“Why did you make me do that?” 

¿Por qué me hiciste hacer eso? (Spanish)

 зачем ты заставил меня это сделать? (Russian)

 

Instead of “You surprised me!” how about:

“Your jumping out from behind the sofa almost gave me a heart attack and made me ponder my mortality!” 

Ugonjwa Sugu wa Moyo, kuwaza kufa! (Swahili)

tumane mujhe dara diya door sophe ke peechhe (Hindi)

 

Instead of "Dinner was delicious!” How about:

“I’ve eaten more disgusting things!”

 ʻai mea ʻole 'ono hou aku!" (Hawaiian)

 ρώω γουρδισμένη τροφή! (Greek)

 

Instead of “Happy Retirement!” How about:

“Try not to be one of those annoying old people!” 

tǎoyàn de lǎorén, bùyào zhèyàng (Chinese)  

een irritante oude mens, wees niet zo (Dutch)

                                                                            

If there’s a prize for a monumental linguistic project like mine, I accept! Mercy buckets, y'all!