Showing posts with label Life Sentences. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life Sentences. Show all posts

Thursday, August 22, 2013

In honor of the 120th Anniversary of the birth of Dorothy Parker


The Red Dress
by Dorothy Parker

I loved this poem when I was 18.  No surprise that I love it even more now.
Listen to a reading here (or read the text below).

I always saw, I always said
If I were grown and free,
I'd have a gown of reddest red
As fine as you could see. 
To wear out walking, sleek and slow,
Upon a summer's day,
And there'd be one to see me so
And flip the world away. 
And he would be a gallant one
With stars behind his eyes,
And hair like metal in the sun,
And lips too warm for lies. 
I always saw us, gay and good,
High honored in the town.
Now I am grown to womanhood—
I have the silly gown.
         (text printed for educational purposes only)

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Sassy, Sexy Words

I'm sensitive to language the way that some people are sensitive to the use of herbs and spices. There are certain words that, when used in certain contexts, make me want to spit.

This isn't at all unusual. If people weren't known to be sensitive to certain words, there wouldn't be poetry...or the Marketing industry. What seemingly sets me apart is that many of the words or phrases that common wisdom categorizes as appealing (if you can gauge common wisdom based on ubiquity) are the same ones that make me cringe.

A case in point: "the biggest selling XXX in America." Watch television for two prime-time hours and you'll know that every advertising agency in the US would take that phrase to the bank. Obviously their clients don't need my money. All that "the biggest selling..." tells me is that a lot of people bought it. It doesn't tell me why. Is it the best constructed or the best tasting? Does it last the longest or give the greatest value? This is what I think of as a lemming pitch: buy it because everyone else does. Well, with apologies to your mom for borrowing her maxim, if everyone else was jumping off the roof, would you? So this pitch is never going to make me want to buy something. On the contrary; because I like to think of myself as apart from the herd, a pitch like this will make me put that product on a list of items to avoid like the plague.

This reverse-reaction is the main symptom of my buzz-word allergy. For example:

  • Advertise a book or film or television show as "sassy," "saucy" or "sexy" and I know to avoid it.
  • On stage or on screen, I will never willingly see a "romp."
  • I think nothing should be "buttery" except for things that are cooked with butter.
  • Food products that are "fresh" or "hot" are enticing. To hear fashion, ideas, or celebrities described as either makes my skin crawl.  And "trendy" (in any context) makes me gag.

I wonder if I'm losing out on some great products because of my reaction to the pitch language. Or maybe these products are really not for me, and this advertising is pitch perfect. Either way, it sometimes makes me feel a little lonely.

PS: I am also allergic to cats. Literally. But the endless "cute cat" meme on the internet is gradually turning this into a figurative allergy as well.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Annual Reflection

Yes, we measure time by artificial constructs. But we do measure; and we make our rituals to observe the passage. December has always been my month for reflection. So what did I come up with this year?

A year can hold a lot.

What it holds will be good, bad and/or indifferent, in different combination and to different degrees for each of us.

Mostly the indifferent fades over time and we hold onto the good. Or hope to. Sometimes, as for the families and friends of 26 people who were killed in Newtown, Connecticut, last week, the bad in the year is too overwhelming.

The image on this page is a patchwork of the good from my year 2012. It represents travel to places I enjoy, time spent with family and friends, a satisfying hobby, one happily-achieved "bucket list" goal and one promise kept. And unseen on the page are the shadows, sometimes directly behind these images, plus a whole lot of indifferent connective tissue. Only when I see these moments all together here does it occur to me that everything good had to be made to come about; nothing just happened.

What will next year hold? There's no way of knowing. There never is. You must live it to find out.