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Please check out this 1-minute film put together by Aish HaTorah.
It only takes a minute...
http://www.aish.com/movies/everygeneration.asp
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Summer Schedule
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Remember watching TV (I rarely do anymore, so I pose the question to you) and over the summer, series would go on hiatus and they'd bring you repeat episodes or "the best of," just to keep you in touch with the show until the fall?
I'm not on hiatus, but I've decided that I'm going to go through "THE BLOG FILES" and every now and again will randomly pull something up and reprint it for you.
Doing so is certainly not a new and novel concept for others; it is for me.
It's like the infomercial, late-night shows that try to sell you "The Best of..." musical compilations. "The Best of Bread," "The Best of Chicago," "The Best of Joni Mitchell," "The Best of the Seventies" -- the offscreen announcer or the onscreen MC says, "Do you remember this one?"
So, folks, do you remember this one?
http://wwwpearliesofwisdom.blogspot.com/2006/02/with-microphone-in-hand.html
Any newish readers have a song to call their own?
Remember watching TV (I rarely do anymore, so I pose the question to you) and over the summer, series would go on hiatus and they'd bring you repeat episodes or "the best of," just to keep you in touch with the show until the fall?
I'm not on hiatus, but I've decided that I'm going to go through "THE BLOG FILES" and every now and again will randomly pull something up and reprint it for you.
Doing so is certainly not a new and novel concept for others; it is for me.
It's like the infomercial, late-night shows that try to sell you "The Best of..." musical compilations. "The Best of Bread," "The Best of Chicago," "The Best of Joni Mitchell," "The Best of the Seventies" -- the offscreen announcer or the onscreen MC says, "Do you remember this one?"
So, folks, do you remember this one?
http://wwwpearliesofwisdom.blogspot.com/2006/02/with-microphone-in-hand.html
Any newish readers have a song to call their own?
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
I've Been Searching So Long...
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Recently, some of you may have found me by typing:
* Zayde made us laugh
* Jewish actors name changer
* Cleopatra being carried by slaves
* Information on aerial acrobatic tricks
* Who sang take the load off Granny
Wouldn't it just have been easier to type http://wwwpearliesofwisdom.blogspot.com ? I think so...
Recently, some of you may have found me by typing:
* Zayde made us laugh
* Jewish actors name changer
* Cleopatra being carried by slaves
* Information on aerial acrobatic tricks
* Who sang take the load off Granny
Wouldn't it just have been easier to type http://wwwpearliesofwisdom.blogspot.com ? I think so...
Wishing You Enough
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I just dug up an old email in my files; it had been forwarded to me and then I'd sent it to a few people. Now I'm sharing it with you all.
Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough." The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?"
"Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?"
"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.
"When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?"
She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more.
"When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them." Then turning toward me she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory:
"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."
She then began to cry and walked away.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.
TAKE TIME TO LIVE.....
To all my friends and loved ones,
I WISH YOU ENOUGH!!!
I just dug up an old email in my files; it had been forwarded to me and then I'd sent it to a few people. Now I'm sharing it with you all.
Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough." The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?"
"Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?"
"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.
"When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?"
She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more.
"When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them." Then turning toward me she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory:
"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."
She then began to cry and walked away.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.
TAKE TIME TO LIVE.....
To all my friends and loved ones,
I WISH YOU ENOUGH!!!
Monday, July 17, 2006
Just Jokin'
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You know how in this world you meet people who are always "on" -- always talking (often about themselves); always wanting to be heard; always trying to top another person's story. Always assuming that they are funny and that people will laugh at their jokes.
I'm sometimes "on," not always, and yes, my jokes often miss the mark, so I've seen both sides of the coin. But I know several people who actually get on my nerves when they try to outtalk, outjoke, outdo other people, and the best thing is either to just nod my head to them, and not encourage them by asking questions or making comments, if I have to be in their company.
Recently I spent a Shabbos meal with such a person. That person makes it sound as if he/she is the best, knows the most, tries the hardest, all the while looking for the audience reaction to his/her comments and stories, no doubt hoping they'll laugh.
After listening to this person go on and hog the conversation a lot of the time, in spite of there being several guests around the table, and overshadowing both his/her spouse and others, there was a momentary lull after a string of one-liner type bits.
Suddenly my 8 1/2 -year-old daughter fills the silence: "Are these jokes?" (implying very discreetly: "Are we supposed to be laughing?")
Cross-posted on Our Kids Speak
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Knowing When To Say "Thank You"
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I received this email from our Jewish Federation today:
Dear Pearl,
Please note this urgent message from CJPAC – Canada’s grassroots Jewish advocacy organization - about the importance of expressing our gratitude to Prime Minister Harper for his strong stand in Israel’s favour during the current conflict.
We wrote to you a few days ago with a request to help support Israel in these difficult times. Since then, the situation has intensified. Rockets launched by the Hezbollah terror organization killed eight people today in Haifa and yesterday struck Tiberias. Here in Canada, anti-Israel groups are stepping up their mobilization to undermine the Canadian Government's support for Israel. It is more essential than ever that we make our voices heard.
If you have not already done so, please contact the Prime Minister's Office at 613-992-4211 to express your gratitude for Canada's principled position and support for Israel. You can also e-mail Prime Minister Harper at pm@pm.gc.ca
This will take less than a minute and is extremely important. You may want to read the Government's most recent statement and the Prime Minister's comments on the situation.
We also urge you to support the UJA Federation Israel Crisis Relief Fund, which is helping to send children under rocket attack to camps that are removed from confrontation regions and purchasing equipment such as toys and games for use in bomb shelters. To make a donation, please click here.
May the days ahead bring peace and security to Israel.
So I immediately typed an email without much thought:
We, the Jewish people of Canada, and the world, thank you for your stance regarding Israel.
It is not easy to sit on the sidelines and watch entire communities live in fear for their lives; it is not easy to sit and watch history continually repeat itself; it is not easy to sit and watch people who are against you, time and time again, try to beat you down.
But it is easy to say thank you. So once again, thank you.
May the resolutions be quick and positive.
Pearl XXX & family,
Toronto, Canada
I received this email from our Jewish Federation today:
Dear Pearl,
Please note this urgent message from CJPAC – Canada’s grassroots Jewish advocacy organization - about the importance of expressing our gratitude to Prime Minister Harper for his strong stand in Israel’s favour during the current conflict.
We wrote to you a few days ago with a request to help support Israel in these difficult times. Since then, the situation has intensified. Rockets launched by the Hezbollah terror organization killed eight people today in Haifa and yesterday struck Tiberias. Here in Canada, anti-Israel groups are stepping up their mobilization to undermine the Canadian Government's support for Israel. It is more essential than ever that we make our voices heard.
If you have not already done so, please contact the Prime Minister's Office at 613-992-4211 to express your gratitude for Canada's principled position and support for Israel. You can also e-mail Prime Minister Harper at pm@pm.gc.ca
This will take less than a minute and is extremely important. You may want to read the Government's most recent statement and the Prime Minister's comments on the situation.
We also urge you to support the UJA Federation Israel Crisis Relief Fund, which is helping to send children under rocket attack to camps that are removed from confrontation regions and purchasing equipment such as toys and games for use in bomb shelters. To make a donation, please click here.
May the days ahead bring peace and security to Israel.
So I immediately typed an email without much thought:
We, the Jewish people of Canada, and the world, thank you for your stance regarding Israel.
It is not easy to sit on the sidelines and watch entire communities live in fear for their lives; it is not easy to sit and watch history continually repeat itself; it is not easy to sit and watch people who are against you, time and time again, try to beat you down.
But it is easy to say thank you. So once again, thank you.
May the resolutions be quick and positive.
Pearl XXX & family,
Toronto, Canada
Roll/Role Call
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I'm very sorry. I know chaos is reigning over in the Middle East, wildfires are burning in California, and the world is full of daily ugliness, but I have to write lighter posts at a time like this. I read all these "heavy" posts elsewhere -- they both inform me and leave me heavy-hearted. I can't write like that right now. I'll leave it for others...
Growing up as the youngest child and the only daughter, I figured it was clear that I was a girl, especially since I had a girl's name to prove it. So why then did my mother often call me by my brothers' names or my father's name? I couldn't understand when she stumbled on her words in trying to get out the right name. Wasn't it plain to see? Pearl was standing beside her. Pearl and ONLY Pearl. So why was I suddenly being referred to as Jacob (my father's name)?
Well, Mom, I apologize for all those times that I personally wondered, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU, MOM? CAN"T YOU TELL WHO I AM BY NOW?"
Why do I apologize? Because I've noticed that I do the same damn thing!
I want to talk to my daughter who is beside me. I know it's my daughter. I know she's the only one in the room with me. I know she was given a beautiful feminine Hebrew name at birth. So what on earth possesses me to call her by one of her brothers' names? Better yet, why do I often do a roll call when I'm calling for her, and only her. I will somehow yell out all three kids names, one after the other, stumbling over each as I realize my mistake and try to get the RIGHT name for the right kid.
Why is it that when my oldest brother is in town, or if I talk to him on the phone, I will call him by my husband's name and I'll call my husband by my brother's name? This only happens with this particular brother.
But the best/worst scenario of all: since we became dog owners some 3 1/2 years ago, why is it that I would mix up the dogs' names with my youngest son's? Why did I call both Tyson, and now Max, by child #3's name? Worse, why do I call my child by the dog's name?
Why does this phenomenon only happen with my youngest child's name? Something to make you get in Rodin's "The Thinker" pose and say "Hmmm...."
I thought it bizarre, and I truly feel guilty each time it has happened to me over the years. This past Friday night after dinner and when everyone had gone to sleep, I walked Max, and saw a friend, a fellow dog owner. I asked her very cautiously, "Do you ever make the mistake of calling Jasper (a white Westie) by one of your kids' names, or call one of your kids by the dog's name?"
When I heard "I do it all the time -- and only with my youngest child," I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Guess I'm not the only freak out there!
Any dog owners out there willing to admit they've done, or do, the same?
I'm very sorry. I know chaos is reigning over in the Middle East, wildfires are burning in California, and the world is full of daily ugliness, but I have to write lighter posts at a time like this. I read all these "heavy" posts elsewhere -- they both inform me and leave me heavy-hearted. I can't write like that right now. I'll leave it for others...
Growing up as the youngest child and the only daughter, I figured it was clear that I was a girl, especially since I had a girl's name to prove it. So why then did my mother often call me by my brothers' names or my father's name? I couldn't understand when she stumbled on her words in trying to get out the right name. Wasn't it plain to see? Pearl was standing beside her. Pearl and ONLY Pearl. So why was I suddenly being referred to as Jacob (my father's name)?
Well, Mom, I apologize for all those times that I personally wondered, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU, MOM? CAN"T YOU TELL WHO I AM BY NOW?"
Why do I apologize? Because I've noticed that I do the same damn thing!
I want to talk to my daughter who is beside me. I know it's my daughter. I know she's the only one in the room with me. I know she was given a beautiful feminine Hebrew name at birth. So what on earth possesses me to call her by one of her brothers' names? Better yet, why do I often do a roll call when I'm calling for her, and only her. I will somehow yell out all three kids names, one after the other, stumbling over each as I realize my mistake and try to get the RIGHT name for the right kid.
Why is it that when my oldest brother is in town, or if I talk to him on the phone, I will call him by my husband's name and I'll call my husband by my brother's name? This only happens with this particular brother.
But the best/worst scenario of all: since we became dog owners some 3 1/2 years ago, why is it that I would mix up the dogs' names with my youngest son's? Why did I call both Tyson, and now Max, by child #3's name? Worse, why do I call my child by the dog's name?
Why does this phenomenon only happen with my youngest child's name? Something to make you get in Rodin's "The Thinker" pose and say "Hmmm...."
I thought it bizarre, and I truly feel guilty each time it has happened to me over the years. This past Friday night after dinner and when everyone had gone to sleep, I walked Max, and saw a friend, a fellow dog owner. I asked her very cautiously, "Do you ever make the mistake of calling Jasper (a white Westie) by one of your kids' names, or call one of your kids by the dog's name?"
When I heard "I do it all the time -- and only with my youngest child," I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Guess I'm not the only freak out there!
Any dog owners out there willing to admit they've done, or do, the same?
Friday, July 14, 2006
We've Got the Green Light!
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(cross-posted on Our Kids Speak)
Scenario: dinner table.
Conversation: talk of Shabbos and shuls.
Specific conversation: 6 1/2 year old N. asks, "Abba [Dad], can we go to the BAYT (one of the two shuls we belong to; a 30 minute walk from our house; acronym stands for Beth Avraham Yoseph Congregation of Toronto) next Shabbos?"
Abba: "Im yirtzeh Hashem."
N.: "What?"
Abba repeats: "Im yirtzeh Hashem."
N.: "What does THAT mean?"
Abba: "If Hashem wants us to, [we'll go there]."
30 second pause...
N.: "He does."
(cross-posted on Our Kids Speak)
Scenario: dinner table.
Conversation: talk of Shabbos and shuls.
Specific conversation: 6 1/2 year old N. asks, "Abba [Dad], can we go to the BAYT (one of the two shuls we belong to; a 30 minute walk from our house; acronym stands for Beth Avraham Yoseph Congregation of Toronto) next Shabbos?"
Abba: "Im yirtzeh Hashem."
N.: "What?"
Abba repeats: "Im yirtzeh Hashem."
N.: "What does THAT mean?"
Abba: "If Hashem wants us to, [we'll go there]."
30 second pause...
N.: "He does."
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Sweet Home Alabama
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I noticed in my stats that someone linked to Pearlies of Wisdom from Hatchechubbee, Alabama. Is that, in fact, a real place?
They didn't seek me out intentionally; they were Googling "sexy hoarse voice".
Try saying "I come from Hatchechubbee, Alabama," in a sexy hoarse voice. But first one has to know how to pronounce that town name!
THE CHINMUSCLESTONIFIER
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Bet you think my title was a typo, that somehow I strung the words together by mistake. Nuh-uh. That was written in one breath, so imagine it being said in one breath.
I was just in our en-suite "library" reading one of those free health magazines you pick up when you're hurrying through the mall, and passing a health-food store. "Healthy Directions" -- hmm, let me pick this up and see where it leads me...
This magazine is filled with more ads than articles, most of which deal with topics that have absolutely no connection to my life. Anyhow, one of these ads stood out for me, because of the accompanying photo. (see above)
What the heck is that!? I couldn't help but wonder. And I read on:
"A face-lift without surgery.
The chinmusclestonifier (edit. note: there's that "said-in-all-one-breath" word again!) prevents or eliminates a double chin, tone neck and jaw muscles, soften the appearance of wrinkles and increase blood circulation and oxygen flow to give your skin a healthier glow.
Tone & strengthen chin and facial muscles with just 3 minutes of exercise each day!"
So I have a few issues with this products AND the copywriter...
1) Where did the copywriter learn English, and learn to write in English? As it reads now, this product prevents/eliminates a double chin, a tone neck and jaw muscles! Go back to school, person. Write right! It s/b "tones", "softens", "increases".
Phew, now that I got that editorial critique out of the way, I can move on to my next complaints:
2) As for using this product for just 3 minutes a day of exercise, and getting results? I'd rather work my jaw, talking for 3 minutes to friends about this ridiculous-looking product. Guess what? I'd be laughing hysterically, as well. Guess what? My stomach muscles would then have a 3-minute workout too. Guess what? My face and tummy would both benefit from my type of exercise.
3) Is this something I should be wearing in public? "Honey, I'm gonna run to the supermarket for some milk. Ya think I should wear my chinmusclestonifier at Sobey's? You know what -- actually I'll go to No Frills. There I'm more likely to see some neighborhood ladies and men wearing them."
4) Who designed this monstrosity? Someone who was fired from the costume department at MGM? Or rather, from the props department at Universal Studios?
"Hmmm...let me see what I can make with these plastic-and-rubber fat suits I stole from my department just after they showed me the door."
I was on the company's website and read this little summary:
The Main Benefits of the Chin Muscles Tonifier (Edit. note: they can't even get their OWN trademark straight; here it's three words!)
The Chin Muscles Tonifier is a revolutionary and very effective device for face lifting without surgery. With just 3 minutes of exercises a day it:
*prevents or eliminates a double chin and droopy jowls
*tones up the muscles of the chin, jaw, neck and face
*firms up the face and slows down the apparition of wrinkles
*softens the appearance of wrinkles and the puffiness of the face
*increases blood circulation and oxygen flow to facial muscles and skin
*improves facial skin elasticity and appearance, and
*makes you look and feel more relaxed
So 5) Can you truly imagine looking and feeling more relaxed...especially while wearing this contraption?
"Is anyone looking at me now? Can I cross the room without anyone staring? My face feels tight...I feel tense...I think I'm starting to hyperventilate. HONEY, GET A PAPER BAG!"
I think I should stop now, 'cause in truth I have more I could write about his product, and who knows how far that could get me. But I truly would like to know "Who has bought this trademarked THING? Did it in fact help them...or just help fill the company's coffers?"
So, a face-lift without surgery... What's next? A nose job without surgery?
"Buy this new product of ours: The NOSECRACKER! Brilliantly designed by a team of "nose it alls" the NOSECRACKER does the job -- without surgery. Just wrap it around your nose, give a few cracks, a twist...and voila! You've got yourself a new nose.
Don't put your nose to the grindstone...put it to the NOSECRACKER!"
Today's products have been brought to you by the Cynical Corporation...
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
For the Literati
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Yesterday an email was forwarded to me from a publishing contact in NYC.
You may want to check this out: http://www.worldebookfair.com/
The World eBook Library Consortia and Project Gutenberg are offering free access to and downloads from their online archives for the next few weeks. Besides e-books, they have audio books, movies, government documents, scholarly texts in over 100 languages...something for every lover of literature. Have fun, and pass it on!
I just checked out the children's book collection and began reading an old storybook I'd never heard of. I want to go back and read some more...
There is something for just about everyone in these collections. Check them out for yourself -- and happy e-reading!
Yesterday an email was forwarded to me from a publishing contact in NYC.
You may want to check this out: http://www.worldebookfair.com/
The World eBook Library Consortia and Project Gutenberg are offering free access to and downloads from their online archives for the next few weeks. Besides e-books, they have audio books, movies, government documents, scholarly texts in over 100 languages...something for every lover of literature. Have fun, and pass it on!
I just checked out the children's book collection and began reading an old storybook I'd never heard of. I want to go back and read some more...
There is something for just about everyone in these collections. Check them out for yourself -- and happy e-reading!
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
OPI Revisited
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After I posted about OPI colors and paint colors and the fact that I'd like to have the honor of naming fashion shades, I began to search for more information about the OPI company. Here is an article that holds some verrrry interrrrresting information -- at least to me!
Local color
OPI gives its nail polishes eccentric names with regional ties. Could Boston be next?
By Kate M. Jackson, Globe Correspondent August 4, 2005
Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves; others wear their attitudes on their toes.
Whether you're throwing confetti or throwing a tantrum, OPI has probably assigned your mindset a color and bottled it. Since 1989, the nail lacquer company has captured all moods whimsical and wily with shades like ''Not So Bora Bora Pink" and ''My Auntie Drinks Chianti."
For Suzi Weiss-Fischmann, nail color is as much about creating an experience as it is about making a statement. Each season Weiss-Fischmann, OPI's executive vice president and artistic director, assembles a creative team to name new lacquer colors based on different locations worldwide.
''Six or seven of us get together in a room for about five to six hours. We take out the map, and then things get really goofy," said Weiss-Fischmann, who's drawn inspiration for past collections from such places as Canada, Greece, and Italy.
During naming sessions, the goal is to capture the colors of the landscape and the eccentricities of each location -- and then tie them into the season's fashion trends, she said.
OPI's most popular color to date is a feisty red shade titled ''I'm Not Really a Waitress." ''That was part of our Hollywood collection," Weiss-Fischmann explained, ''because everyone in LA says they're not really a waitress."
For the Canadian collection, OPI gave local colloquialism a shout-out with a shade titled ''Nice Color, Eh?" ''Aphrodite's Pink Nightie" was the goddess of the Greek collection. For the Italian collection, Weiss-Fischmann said the lacquers mirrored the hues of a Tuscan vineyard, and also paid tribute to some beloved mechanics from New Jersey with the color ''Hey Vito, Is My Car Red-y."
The creativity and humor pasted across the tiny name tags on the bottom of each OPI bottle have secured a worldwide following of customers who are not only fans, but devotees.
Kelley Cyr of Milton almost switched nail salons when her regular manicurist suggested she try a similar color from another brand. ''I insisted on my 'Coney Island Cotton Candy,' " Cyr said.
''Home on the O-Range" is an OPI color that Kathleen Norton of Hingham calls ''the perfect summer shade."
''It's a bright coral that really complements your tan," said Norton, who found the color had a hidden bonus: ''It makes my wedding and engagement rings look bigger."
At Neet Nails in Norwell, owner Anita Asci said an OPI-inspired venting session once erupted among the manicures and pedicures.
''Everyone seemed to be annoyed with their husbands or life in general, and we started making up colors based on our feelings and thought about submitting them to OPI," she said.
Some of the names they came up with that day included ''Push Me Over the Edge Red" and ''Can't Find the Vicodin Violet," said Asci.
Yesterday OPI unveiled its latest creation, the Chicago Collection. ''The 12 new shades feature a lot of creamy browns and rich reds, which are the hottest colors for this fall," said Weiss-Fischmann.
New shades include ''That's an 'EL' of a Color!" a brick-red polish named after Chicago's elevated transit system, and a shimmery nude hue called ''Skinny Dip'n in Lake Michg'n."
Whether or not OPI plans a Boston-based collection ''is top secret," said Weiss-Fischmann, ''but you never know."
Somewhere out there ''Red Sox Red" or ''Pahk the Cah-rimson" are just begging to be bottled.
Notice the section I highlighted in "Mauvelous Mauve" (you like that shade name I just came up with, Cruisin' Mom?). And think back to the scene I imagined at OPI, the round-table tactics to come up with names for new collection.
See... I wasn't so far off the mark, was I? Maybe there is a place for me at that corporation, after all. Suzi Weiss-Fischmann, hope you're reading this and not just contemplating your next manicure...
After I posted about OPI colors and paint colors and the fact that I'd like to have the honor of naming fashion shades, I began to search for more information about the OPI company. Here is an article that holds some verrrry interrrrresting information -- at least to me!
Local color
OPI gives its nail polishes eccentric names with regional ties. Could Boston be next?
By Kate M. Jackson, Globe Correspondent August 4, 2005
Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves; others wear their attitudes on their toes.
Whether you're throwing confetti or throwing a tantrum, OPI has probably assigned your mindset a color and bottled it. Since 1989, the nail lacquer company has captured all moods whimsical and wily with shades like ''Not So Bora Bora Pink" and ''My Auntie Drinks Chianti."
For Suzi Weiss-Fischmann, nail color is as much about creating an experience as it is about making a statement. Each season Weiss-Fischmann, OPI's executive vice president and artistic director, assembles a creative team to name new lacquer colors based on different locations worldwide.
''Six or seven of us get together in a room for about five to six hours. We take out the map, and then things get really goofy," said Weiss-Fischmann, who's drawn inspiration for past collections from such places as Canada, Greece, and Italy.
During naming sessions, the goal is to capture the colors of the landscape and the eccentricities of each location -- and then tie them into the season's fashion trends, she said.
OPI's most popular color to date is a feisty red shade titled ''I'm Not Really a Waitress." ''That was part of our Hollywood collection," Weiss-Fischmann explained, ''because everyone in LA says they're not really a waitress."
For the Canadian collection, OPI gave local colloquialism a shout-out with a shade titled ''Nice Color, Eh?" ''Aphrodite's Pink Nightie" was the goddess of the Greek collection. For the Italian collection, Weiss-Fischmann said the lacquers mirrored the hues of a Tuscan vineyard, and also paid tribute to some beloved mechanics from New Jersey with the color ''Hey Vito, Is My Car Red-y."
The creativity and humor pasted across the tiny name tags on the bottom of each OPI bottle have secured a worldwide following of customers who are not only fans, but devotees.
Kelley Cyr of Milton almost switched nail salons when her regular manicurist suggested she try a similar color from another brand. ''I insisted on my 'Coney Island Cotton Candy,' " Cyr said.
''Home on the O-Range" is an OPI color that Kathleen Norton of Hingham calls ''the perfect summer shade."
''It's a bright coral that really complements your tan," said Norton, who found the color had a hidden bonus: ''It makes my wedding and engagement rings look bigger."
At Neet Nails in Norwell, owner Anita Asci said an OPI-inspired venting session once erupted among the manicures and pedicures.
''Everyone seemed to be annoyed with their husbands or life in general, and we started making up colors based on our feelings and thought about submitting them to OPI," she said.
Some of the names they came up with that day included ''Push Me Over the Edge Red" and ''Can't Find the Vicodin Violet," said Asci.
Yesterday OPI unveiled its latest creation, the Chicago Collection. ''The 12 new shades feature a lot of creamy browns and rich reds, which are the hottest colors for this fall," said Weiss-Fischmann.
New shades include ''That's an 'EL' of a Color!" a brick-red polish named after Chicago's elevated transit system, and a shimmery nude hue called ''Skinny Dip'n in Lake Michg'n."
Whether or not OPI plans a Boston-based collection ''is top secret," said Weiss-Fischmann, ''but you never know."
Somewhere out there ''Red Sox Red" or ''Pahk the Cah-rimson" are just begging to be bottled.
Notice the section I highlighted in "Mauvelous Mauve" (you like that shade name I just came up with, Cruisin' Mom?). And think back to the scene I imagined at OPI, the round-table tactics to come up with names for new collection.
See... I wasn't so far off the mark, was I? Maybe there is a place for me at that corporation, after all. Suzi Weiss-Fischmann, hope you're reading this and not just contemplating your next manicure...
The Man in the Moon
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Last night, between 9:20 and 9:50 I walked the dog. And as I walked through a neighborhood park, I noticed the HUGE, beautiful moon suspended in the sky, a beacon for all to see and admire. It was as if the moon was saying, "Hey, look me over!"
And as I looked at the moon, I smiled, for not only was it majestic-looking, full and beautiful, holding court in the astral plains, it looked a tad different. And I was inspired to write a poem.
The Man in the Moon
Tonight as I walked
through the darkening streets
I looked up to the sky
And saw you.
A beacon of light.
An orb all aglow.
A disc suspended high, high above
the greening of the earth,
the people and animals down below
shutting down for the night.
I looked at you
and saw that burnt amber face powder you wore
atop the natural ivory
and I wondered at the color you chose to wear tonight.
Your finest? I asked myself. Is that maquillage necessary?
And your jovial self continued
to look down at me and smile,
knowing that the man in the moon was playing his role,
was lighting up the sky brighter than usual,
was causing people to look, point and smile.
For you wore an accessory.
The thin wispy, thready clouds around you
had designed an accessory just for you -- for tonight's performance.
A handlebar mustache.
The man in the moon was seen wearing
a handlebar mustache.
"Encore, encore," I silently called.
"Encore, encore," I silently clapped.
Silence.
***************************
I went home and before I sat down to write this post and create the poem, I checked out information about the moon on July 10, 2006, and this is what I found:
July 10, 11:02 p.m. EDT: The Full Buck Moon, when the new antlers of buck deer push out from their foreheads in coatings of velvety fur. It was also often called the Full Thunder Moon, thunderstorms being now most frequent. Sometimes also called the Full Hay Moon.
Last night, between 9:20 and 9:50 I walked the dog. And as I walked through a neighborhood park, I noticed the HUGE, beautiful moon suspended in the sky, a beacon for all to see and admire. It was as if the moon was saying, "Hey, look me over!"
And as I looked at the moon, I smiled, for not only was it majestic-looking, full and beautiful, holding court in the astral plains, it looked a tad different. And I was inspired to write a poem.
The Man in the Moon
Tonight as I walked
through the darkening streets
I looked up to the sky
And saw you.
A beacon of light.
An orb all aglow.
A disc suspended high, high above
the greening of the earth,
the people and animals down below
shutting down for the night.
I looked at you
and saw that burnt amber face powder you wore
atop the natural ivory
and I wondered at the color you chose to wear tonight.
Your finest? I asked myself. Is that maquillage necessary?
And your jovial self continued
to look down at me and smile,
knowing that the man in the moon was playing his role,
was lighting up the sky brighter than usual,
was causing people to look, point and smile.
For you wore an accessory.
The thin wispy, thready clouds around you
had designed an accessory just for you -- for tonight's performance.
A handlebar mustache.
The man in the moon was seen wearing
a handlebar mustache.
"Encore, encore," I silently called.
"Encore, encore," I silently clapped.
Silence.
***************************
I went home and before I sat down to write this post and create the poem, I checked out information about the moon on July 10, 2006, and this is what I found:
July 10, 11:02 p.m. EDT: The Full Buck Moon, when the new antlers of buck deer push out from their foreheads in coatings of velvety fur. It was also often called the Full Thunder Moon, thunderstorms being now most frequent. Sometimes also called the Full Hay Moon.
Color Me OPI
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On my walk with the dog Monday evening, I was looking at the full moon and felt inspired enough to write a poem (for another post). It came about because I was looking at the color of the moon, trying to determine the exact shade. And as I thought of that, I thought of names of paint colors, and nail polish shades, and wondered "Who comes up with them?"
And not for the first time I decided that I want to become an official name-caller.... I want to be one of those people who thinks up these illustrious and innovative names for up-and-coming shades of paints and cosmetics.
"Color naming in fashion and paint exploits the subjectiveness and emotional context of words and their associations. This is particularly seen in the naming of paint chips (samples) where paint is sold. This may in fact be an aid to moving a customer through the store more rapidly, as closely similar shades may be equally vailid in a specific application, with selection being determined by individual preference, colors of furnishings and artwork, and the quality and character of light, both artificial and natural. The attachment of an emotional context to a color sample by choice of name may enhance the rapidity of selection.
In fashion and automotive colors the objective of naming is to enhance the perception of color through apropriate naming to fit the emotional context desired. Thus the same "poppy yellow" can become either the hot blooded and active "amber rage", the cozy and peaceful "late afternoon sunshine", or the wealth evoking "sierra gold".
I discovered a list of 1970s Behr Paint palette names and wondered at many of them. Although creative, the names don't always even give a hint as to what color family the shade is part of.
1970s Color Palette
Cinnamon Cherry
Burley Wood
Sugar Berry
Almond Cream
Licorice Stick
Ocean Pearl
Chamois Cloth
Ryegrass
Maple Leaf
Tate Olive
Pumpkin Patch
Jungle Trail
Firebrick
Celtic Gray
Chesnut Stallion
Teal Bayou
Navajo White
Peacock Feather
Honey Tone
Creek Bend
Dry Sea Grass
Dark Caven
Golden Chalice
Bear Rug
It's amazing to think that people get paid to sit and think, and think, and think and come up with these names. And I have to tell you, throughout time, there have been many households having domestic disputes about paint shades, paint names and what they represent, and lots of "Don't you dare put that mustard color on the walls!" or "Cotton candy pink? This ain't a baby's nursery, this is a dining room!" or "If you paint this bedroom that shade of regal purple, so help me, I won't be sharing this bed with you any more!" (the wife grins broadly at her husband's outburst, happily plotting to reclaim the queen-size bed now that he's made his announcement)
I am especially impressed with OPI cosmetics, and their use of color names, specifically their nail polish collections. An example is above; it's their Italy collection. I've been equally impressed with the NY collection and the Chicago collection. But can you just imagine the scenario as a brainstorming meeting gets underway at OPI...
A boardroom has a large table with several people sitting around it. On the table are English and foreign-language dictionaries, a thesaurus, an atlas, lots of scribble pads and pens, random color photos, and the Internet is hooked up at several computer stations, just waiting to be used if necessary.
"Okay, people. There's lots of work to do. We need a new collection for Winter 2008, and we need ideas, names, big concepts. Sandra, this time it's you. Cover your eyes with one hand and with the other open up that atlas, flip through the pages and pick one. That country you pick will be the new collection."
Sandra happily does as Derek says, and comes up with SWTZERLAND.
"Perfect, Sandra...seeing as it is a winter collection we're working on. Okay, people, start thinking..."
And they come up with: (maybe I should TM these ideas of mine)
Bern, Baby, Bern (deep red shade)
Fondue 4 Fun (brown shade)
Swiss Miss Magic (cream shade)
Come Blow Your Alphorn (yellow shade)
Zany Zurich (silver shade)
Bahnhofstrasse Boogie (copper shade)
So, OPI, if you happen to stumble across this little blog of mine, consider my offer to become a "name-caller" for you. I love wordplay, I have creative ideas and I'm a colorful character. And if that's not enough for you, I've just designed your new Winter 2008 collection: Switzerland: It's a Matter of the Matterhorn.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Things That Made Me Smile Today...
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...the image above
...seeing a rabbit run out of my neighbor's bushes and hop across the street
...receiving and reading a thank-you letter from my mother and father regarding their 50th wedding anniversary celebration dinner, and the poem that I wrote and the donations that we made in their honor
...hearing a Barry White song on the radio, turning up the volume and dancing across the kitchen floor with only Max, the dog, for an audience
...seeing my children leave this morning, happiness on their faces at another day in camp, another day of adventures
...watching my husband interact with my kids this evening, listening how nicely he talks to them, seeing how much patience he has with them, and just watching the warmth that exudes from him towards his offspring
...the humorous writing style of a particular author, whose romance novel I'm copy editing
...watching Max the dog run outside in the rain and head straight for protection under the patio table
...finding out that the adoption of a baby went through for a couple that I know
...seeing a glorious full moon about 25 minutes ago when I walked the dog
...reading Cruisin Mom's "Jelly Belly" post
...reading the human emotion behind Neil Kramer's latest post about his late father and his collectibles
...feeling inspired to write posts and poetry
Realization
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Last week I wrote a post in a humorous vein about lack of comments; it's not the first time I've written about that topic, and I doubt it will be the last time.
But this week, while panning through my fave blogs, I suddenly realized that I, too, am guilty of the same thing that I'm pointing out about others. I often read these posts of favorite bloggers, but if I have nothing to add to the "conversation" I will move on without leaving a comment.
Can they tell that I've visited? Can they tell if I read their recent post in detail or skimmed over it? Can they tell that I sometimes feel inadequate just because I have nothing to add to a thread of comments, that I don't know enough about what is being talked about to be able to add my two shekels?
So, slap my wrist for writing that "Are You Being Served?" post. I guess I just somehow associated lack of comments with lack of readers. But I realize that lack of comments might also just represent "a comfortable silence."
A Poem-in-Progress
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I was recently given a gift of an informative, coffee-table-style tome of Holocaust chronicles -- a pictorial, journalistic timeline of the Jews, as their decline began to be marked as soon as Hitler came to power.
It is a powerful book, both in its detailed information and in its photos, and one can sit for hours with it. But there is a dilemma similar to a "push me, pull me" one. One wants to read the book, one wants to lay it down because it is so graphic, one picks it up again, cautiously turning the pages in fear of what one will read or see.
But I did pick up the book, sat with it a long while, slowly turning the pages and reading bits and pieces here and there. In a sidebar, I read about "Canada/Kanada."
Kanada, the storehouse where confiscated belongings from prisoners arriving at Auschwitz-Birkenau were kept and meticulously catalogued — clothing, toys, shoes, eyeglasses, prosthetic devices, gold teeth, wristwatches, jewelry, pots and pans, books, shorn hair — anything that might allow a dehumanized slave to feel human, anything that could be used by the German people, craving both luxuries and essentials. Prisoners working in Kanada were lucky; they could sell confiscated items to the S.S. for special favors or food.
The Nazis nicknamed the storehouse "Kanada" because they considered Canada to be a land of limitless bounty and wealth.
I could not shake off the thought or image of this other "Canada" and was inspired to begin a poem. This is my poem-in-progress:
KANADA
There were heaps and heaps
of discarded goods,
discarded lives,
discarded souls
tossed upon each other.
Nestled in a storehouse
amidst the bloated bellies,
the hollow cheeks
of human mankind.
I was recently given a gift of an informative, coffee-table-style tome of Holocaust chronicles -- a pictorial, journalistic timeline of the Jews, as their decline began to be marked as soon as Hitler came to power.
It is a powerful book, both in its detailed information and in its photos, and one can sit for hours with it. But there is a dilemma similar to a "push me, pull me" one. One wants to read the book, one wants to lay it down because it is so graphic, one picks it up again, cautiously turning the pages in fear of what one will read or see.
But I did pick up the book, sat with it a long while, slowly turning the pages and reading bits and pieces here and there. In a sidebar, I read about "Canada/Kanada."
Kanada, the storehouse where confiscated belongings from prisoners arriving at Auschwitz-Birkenau were kept and meticulously catalogued — clothing, toys, shoes, eyeglasses, prosthetic devices, gold teeth, wristwatches, jewelry, pots and pans, books, shorn hair — anything that might allow a dehumanized slave to feel human, anything that could be used by the German people, craving both luxuries and essentials. Prisoners working in Kanada were lucky; they could sell confiscated items to the S.S. for special favors or food.
The Nazis nicknamed the storehouse "Kanada" because they considered Canada to be a land of limitless bounty and wealth.
I could not shake off the thought or image of this other "Canada" and was inspired to begin a poem. This is my poem-in-progress:
KANADA
There were heaps and heaps
of discarded goods,
discarded lives,
discarded souls
tossed upon each other.
Nestled in a storehouse
amidst the bloated bellies,
the hollow cheeks
of human mankind.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
The Soul of a Poet
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The soul of a poet = poetry of the soul.
For years I've been referred to as "a writer" but I don't believe it's an accurate title. I usually correct people and say, "I write." If I'm told, "You write well," I WILL accept that, but I deny anything that resembles an identifier of "writer."
However, I've also been referred to as "a poet." And for some reason, I've accepted that title all these years and worn it proudly. Partially because it truly defines who I am, what I am about.
My thoughts flow better in short sentences...in word trails that conjure up images and feelings, sounds and scents. I take a simple thought and design it as a poem -- laying it out in such a way that words are grouped together, making a reader understand that the visuals have as much an impact as the words themselves. Is this called "poetic license"?
Yes, I've been known to write cutesie limerick poems for years, especially for a celebration or special event. But that is not the mainstay of my poetry, and I don't deem myself a poet when I write those or read them aloud. Regarding those, I prefer to accept the compliment "You're clever."
The heart of my poetry lies deep within me -- in my teen years, it was the teen angst surfacing, (similar to Janis Ian's "At Seventeen" lyrics) and as the years went on, the poems dealt with my identity, my roots, the important people in my life...and people I never knew personally but read about. For some reason, I truly absorb someone else's life and what they represent, when I read about them. Is it sensitivity, is it compassion, is it a transference of putting myself in their shoes...or simply all of the above?
The Holocaust has figured greatly in my poems, my parents -- especially my father -- has figured greatly in my poems, often tied in to those Holocaust poems, people who've left this world are given a life once again in my poems, people whom I may have met briefly, but who have left a lasting impression on me, appear in my poems.
Sure, I studied poetry in school -- primary, junior, high and university -- and I know that one can learn to write poetry. One can take courses to learn how to write poetry. One can do afternoon or evening workshops to learn how to write poetry. Or one can simply write...without learning the craft...without learning about timing and an audience. Without worrying about whether one should write free-form verse or rhyming poetry. Without worrying whether a poem will be published or not.
Yes, one can simple write....
Read Between the Lines
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