marketing wonder or blunder

I received the following email:

Dear but mostly hers,Thank you for ordering from the Parents.com Store. We have received your order, and it is currently being processed. Please print this e-mail for your records. It contains your order number and other important details.Stop back again for more great home and family ideas!Your order number is: blahblahblah

Order Total: $0.00 *Plus applicable taxes

Item Qty. Delivery American Baby Usually ships within 4 to 6 weeks American Baby is published 12 times per year 1 hardgoodShippingGroup

Can you figure out all the issues (sorry) here?

Here’s my list:

1. I didn’t order anything–I like to know what I’m ordering.
2. If I did order it, then it shouldn’t be for American Baby. I’m ‘way past that stage, baby. After all, I’m no spring chicken.
3. If I did order anything, then it should be for AARP Magazine. (Oooh! They have a great article called  Age-Proof your Brain! No, I take that back. I know all that stuff. Still, better than Celebs Dish about Motherhood and Pregnancy.)
4. Even if I didn’t order it and I did want it, don’t you think they should have sent a previous email saying “You have been chosen to receive this free gift”?
5. Doesn’t this smell a little desperate to you? I know magazine subscriptions are dropping, but is this the most effective way to drive up business?
6. Plus I’d be really annoyed if I had to pay taxes.

I wrote an email asking for them to please give the subscription to someone else. Someone for which it would be useful.

[They promise they'll get back to me within two days.]

After all, I might read the magazine and just feel guilty how I did it all wrong.

And what would be the benefit of that?

no, tomorrow is NOT my birthday!

This should come under the category of Big Brother.

Okay, now that’s added.

On my way to the library today, I stopped at the bank. I just needed to use the ATM, but that was busy and there was actually no one at the tellers, so I stepped right in. A young woman whom I’ve never seen before was there to assist me. She was particularly chatty, not particularly business-like.

“Oh, my grandmother’s birthday is November 22nd, too!”

And before I could say what?, she corrected herself.

“Sorry, I was reading the wrong line. I see it’s December 2nd, tomorrow! Happy Birthday!”

And before I could say what?, she added:

“You were born in 1916? You don’t look that old!”

And then I said, “What? What does it say? Why hasn’t anyone else said anything before this?”

What else do they have wrong, I wondered to myself.

“Go over to the woman at the desk and she’ll correct it right away. It will just take a minute. Isn’t that funny?”

Yeah, a minute turned into at least 10. Someone else came over to me and said she couldn’t believe the mistake, but could I just give my driver’s license to that young woman and she’ll write down all the details and they’ll correct it so I don’t have to wait any longer.

After all, I’m not getting any younger…

irony: borrow no borrowing

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!

Polonius got it right, of course, along with all kinds of truisms that he spouted, even though he tragically didn’t understand them himself.

And yet–I find myself going to that cliché to figure out how to return all the books that we have borrowed from others.

Actually, this is the problem. We have not borrowed them.

They have been lent to us. We did not initiate the request and so it becomes somewhat of a burden to return books that we didn’t request in the first  place.

As I have mentioned a few times, I’m trying to scale back our stuff. (Yes, even while I do buy more; I know, adding on the irony. But this is new stuff I neeeeed. New slippers. A new coat to replace my old 20 year-old parka. New socks without holes in the toes, even after darning them a few times. Okay the jacket I didn’t need but it’s so nice!)

 

But the books? I don’t need high school books any more. If I want to read them, I can go to the library. And the bookshelves in the study are bending from doubling overweightedness.

So I have to return these books that people said we just have to read.

Really, we don’t. Or we haven’t. And we probably won’t.

Well, that’s not true, of course. I’ve read a few of the half-dozen. But I’m not going to get to most of them now.

I found one book that was lent to D#1 when she was interested in fashion illustration from a family who moved away at least fifteen years ago. And I have no idea where they live. What is my obligation to return that one?

But it’s the same thing for lending books. I have no idea where some of our books are. I don’t know if they’re hiding in a drawer (like I found a few of a set of humashim last year–not just one!) or they’re somewhere visiting someone else’s shelves. I know that some have migrated to some of our children’s homes because, occasionally, they have been returned. So one particular child is the usual suspect, but I’m not blaming. I have to figure out what’s missing first.

So MOTS*: don’t ask me if I’ve read a book and then lend it to me. I can’t be trusted to return it in a timely manner.

Now please excuse me while I go return the books that I took out from the public library. At least I can [usually] keep track of what I take out from there.

*Moral of the story, of course.

did you hear me screaming just now?

I apologize to you all.

That means everyone except one person, the person to whom the screaming was directed.

Guess what ISHI just found?

Not the 15 animals, but the GPS.

Yup, it was on his desk. He claims he also found Captain Kidd’s buried treasure.

I can’t find the energy to laugh.

And I don’t think having the GPS again will help me find that.

 

i need my gps to find my

–You guessed it

–my GPS.

I KNOW we took it out of the rental car that we had to go to my FIL’s funeral.

I KNOW it was sitting on the kitchen counter for weeks and weeks and weeks since then.

I KNOW I moved it somewhere else.

I KNOW it’s not there now and I have no clue where it is.

I see wires of all kinds all over the place, but…

Time to simplify.

That’s what I have to do with my extra hour.

A little too late now, don’t ya think?

the good things about my FIL’s death

Now that I’ve been fixating on the inability to have all good, at least I should take the opportunity to find the good, even in what is definitely a hard time, still during the week of shiva after my father-in-law’s death.

In no particular order, unless I say that it is…

1. It’s a really good excuse to give to telemarketers for ISHI not coming to the phone.
2. Also to shidduch inquirers and meshulachim. I must admit I perhaps enjoyed that a little too much, telling them all he couldn’t come to the phone.
3. Our son and DIL stayed for Shabbat and my father also came to be with all of us.
4. I can tell people I don’t want food because my freezers are already packed and that’s true. I can also tell some people that yes, I would love food for my kiddies and that turns out to be my 30 year olds and my father and that was great. Now what do I do with the food that people actually did bring and we won’t eat?
5. I can ask people to get me pomegranates so that I don’t have to worry about finding them (thank you, C!)
6. People have been mostly very thoughtful.
7. Someone brought pears and not just apples. ISHi doesn’t eat apples, along with many many other things.
8. I can leave the room because I have things to get ready for Rosh Hashanah. Like writing this.
9. We saw our kids all together.
10. The cousins were all together.
11. Everyone got along and there were no incidents, except for the fact that ISHI forgot to read his niece and nephews’ names at the funeral. I think. He was sure that he did.
12. the last one–it’s over. Baruch Dayan Emet. The cloud of uncertainty has lifted. We know that everything was done in the most respectful way for him and he maintained his dignity as much as possible. And he chose life, on his terms.

I just read Rabbi Marc Angel’s dvar Torah for this week and not surprisingly, it’s right on cue. I’ll quote a bit, but it’s not that much longer than this. You should definitely take a look, if you don’t subscribe already.

The three themes in the Musaf of Rosh Hashanah may be considered in light of the themes of separation and reunion. The first section describes God as King, the Being that has control over life and death. When we contemplate this image of God, we react with fear, with a sense of separation. We realize that we are not ultimately in control of our lives–God is. We feel awed by God’s power, we feel separated, even alienated.

The next theme, though, is “zikhronot”–God remembers. He acts with kindness. God is a compassionate Parent who is concerned with our lives. We are not forgotten or forsaken. Our lives are not random or anonymous. We are remembered, we are brought closer to God and to each other.

The third theme, “shofarot”, serves as a bridge between the poles of separation and reunion. The shofar reminds us of the akedah story, a symbol of separation, where a father was to sacrifice his beloved son. Abraham, alone with Isaac on a forsaken mountain, realizes that God is the ultimate king with control over life and death.

But the shofar is also reminiscent of the revelation at Mt. Sinai. At that time, the Israelites were crowded together, united, touching shoulders. There was reconciliation between the people and God.

Rosh Hashana reminds us of the root of our greatest sadness and our greatest happiness. Memories of past separations come to mind, memories that will never leave us and that we experience intensely. But we also experience reunion. We are together in the synagogue. Members of our family have returned; friends and neighbors have come together. We are glad.

well, click on it and see what i said while i was off-grid

That Irony loves to build on itself.

BTW, here’s the link for the article by Erica Brown on Sincerity and Authenticity in Teaching (I couldn’t read my own notes that I wrote, so I refound the link for all of us)

and here’s the link I mention that I had received that I was sending my friend. I did today when I could.

And we all do what we can, right?

Have a nice day!!

Oh irony. Is it in the stars for this month?

I’m not forgetting you, Jerusalem. I can’t and I won’t. But my right side is really pretty funny, if I remember to laugh. My swollen foot, my right hand, and the right side of my mouth from a temporary crown that doesn’t really fit and I can’t close my teeth comfortably.

And I really don’t like to complain.

Rant, yes, that I like, but not complain.

So I’ll chalk it up to irony.

But here’s the newest one for today, folks. We’re supposed to attend another wedding this Sunday evening, but there’s this little thing that could possibly make a problem, called Irene. The couple is struggling now with whether they should postpone the wedding or tough it out. After all, a lot of the family is Israeli, so they’re used to toughing things out.

Just not weather.

But look what’s going on in their corner of the universe:

12:34 PM Updated Emergency Bulletin from IDF Homefront Command for Thursday, August 25th.

The following defensive measures apply to all communities within 40 kilometers of the Gaza strip: Ashkelon, Ashdod, Beer Sheva, Netivot, Sederot, Kiryat Melachi, Kiyrat Gat, Gedera, Hevel Yanveh, Gederot, Gan Yavneh, Yad Binyamin.

1. Upon hearing a siren or color red alert, or explosion, immediately go to a shelter, safe room or safe area.

2. No event may have more than 500 people present; not sporting, entertainment, cultural events or ceremonies.

3. One may have events with less than 500 people.

4. Studies/schools/camps should not take place in buildings that do not have concrete roofs.

5. All work places may continue as normal.

6. All shopping centers may continue as normal.

Safe locations are defined as follows:

Indoor Buildings: One should to to a bomb shelter or safe internal room, closing doors and windows.

Outside: Go to the nearest building with the time you have available, if there is no close building or if you are in an open area, lay down on the ground with your head protected by your hands and arms.

In a car: Stop you car, and go to the closest building. If you cannot, get to a building/shelter, exit the car, lay down on the ground with your head protected by your hands and arms.

If you cannot leave your car, stop at the side of the road, and wait for 10 minutes.
If no other warning is given, all residents may leave shelters after 10 minutes.

Remember: these directives save lives! There is a regional Homefront Command radio station broadcasting 24 hours a day:

BeerSheva 97FM
Ashkelon 101.5 FM
Ashdod 95.8 FM

It is forbidden to go to sites where rockets have landed or touch the remains of rockets due to the chance of secondary explosions or additional rockets that may hit the same location.

Have a nice day!

So we’ll be grateful for the wake-up call from above and not complain.

At least out loud.

i still don’t like shtick

Or, alternatively, irony of ironies.

We have been busy lately. Thus, the lack of time to organize my thoughts into anything valuable to write about. Our house has been overflowing with children and food and stuff. So between work and play, I haven’t written. Yesterday afternoon, everyone left, and we went to a wedding. It was a beautiful wedding, so lovely that I didn’t have a chance to feel the absence of all the little kiddies (until this morning, at least, when I realized all I had now was the inevitable mess left behind; not a bad thing but just a reality).

What made the wedding so lovely is mostly all the good feelings all around on both sides. Everyone was happy; no one [seemed to] have any issues. It was unusual for our community, since both families were from here. And the wedding was local, which was an added bonus. Actually, since both of the groom’s parents were from Israel, you had a lot of people who traveled here. I felt a strong new understanding of the phrase from the last of the sheva brachot בערי יהודה ובחוצות ירושלים, in the outskirts of Jerusalem. We could be considered in the outskirts, couldn’t we, just at least for pretend?

So it was really a pleasure to be at this wedding. To be with people who only want good for others without demanding their place/time/spotlight, well, it was refreshing. It was easy to do the mitzvah of משמח חתן וכלה, making the bride and groom happy (from that same brachah).

But here comes the irony.

Before the wedding, one of the other guests pulled a purple streamer out of her bag that she was carrying that also held an umbrella and a fan, to cover all weather possibilities. The streamer was from a wedding she had been to the week before, and she brought it mostly because it matched her dress. I told her I didn’t do shtick. She, of course, does, which was not a surprise. I don’t understand why we have to reduce people to silly outfits and inside jokes at weddings. I’m not stiff; I’m pretty sure I have a very good sense of humor (living with ISHI proves it, among other things), but I still don’t get it. Or perhaps that’s why I don’t get it. I don’t think the visual is a very high level of humor, or I think we could aim higher and not settle for juvenile. But nevertheless, I see how people do like it, and I didn’t mention any of these considerations yesterday. I did, however, mention how we had been to a wedding a number of years before when a young man tripped and fell on silly string and fractured his leg in a number of places, keeping him from starting a new job the following day, which made it questionable whether he actually had medical insurance for a procedure that occurred before the job started. Her reply was that could happen without any silly string. She had been to a bar mitzvah party where one of the boys tripped and had to hobble to his own bar mitzvah the following week. And my retort was that you don’t need to make things more difficult and that safety should always be at the top of priorities.

Can you see where this is going yet?

I think I’ve made it pretty clear. Now in real time.

The chuppah is over, the post-chuppah eating is over, the salad is over, the couple comes in. The band moves into high gear with some great energy and everyone gets up to dance. The bride is in the middle; I get the groom’s mother to go join her, along with all the sisters and bride’s mother. Then comes the next inner circle of young’uns. And then I’m already in the outermost circle, but I see a new circle opening up one step in, and I go grab the hand of a friend to get it going. Faster.

And then (now do you see where I’m going?)…

I’m going down.

I fall.

I think it was a combination of moving from the floor to the rug or visa-versa, plus my shoes were a bit higher than I’m used to, plus my exhaustion, plus my general clutziness. Whatever it was, I clearly had turned my ankle. Whether I had sprained it or not was a matter to be seen, but I figured that I probably did. Although I was not going to say anything.

I didn’t need to. Did I mention that the groom’s family were all doctors and nurses? The grandmother goes right away to get a bag of ice. I am commanded (I told you they were Israelis) to elevate the leg, put on the ice, etc. Then comes over a chiropractor, a “healer” (“Can I work on your foot?” “Um, I’d rather you don’t.”), etc. etc.

So I’m about as embarrassed as I can be by this point. Mostly because I don’t want to be the center of attention. I get the grandmother to please please go back to the dancing. The others hang around. I finally take the ice off (it’s been on for the required 11 minutes, per instructions), put my sandal back on, stand up, and go to the bathroom to wash my hands and to show I can walk.

I also go to find some ibuprofen in the basket of stuff in the ladies’ room. I know it must be there. After all, didn’t I tell you that there are doctors in the family?

There aren’t.

I take acetaminophen instead. It will have to do.

We have the speeches from the bride’s parents, then there’s more dancing. I’m going to do this part to show I’m okay. So I dance! I had apparently missed the dancing by the guys in the kilts earlier. But I do get to see the woman in the sari leading us women in some pretty cool Bollywood stuff. It’s great–a lot of fun.

By the time we go home, after the main entree, the adorable video of a song by the Israeli clan (unusually adorable and genuinely cute), my ankle is not happy.

But I am.

So I’ll take it easy today, despite the beautiful weather outside. I’ll resist the call to walk and I’ll just do laundry instead.

And I’ll offer this other example of true irony, and I’ll be grateful and quiet.

once twice three times no lady

With apologies to Lionel Richie.*

The first time, I was rushing out to pick someone up, so I ate my veggie dinner so quickly that I chomped down on my molar and I knew I was in trouble. But that had to wait until Shabbat for the tooth to actually crack in half and come out. Thankfully, the part that came out was an old filling. So my dentist, whom I seem to need more often lately (see here and here, among other previous posts), was able to take care of it on Sunday morning with a temporary filling, awaiting my finishing of my summer program. “Yes, it can last up to 6 months, but certainly it will last 6 weeks.”

The second time was over last Shabbat. At some point, I realized I had swallowed the temporary thing. So my dentist met me Sunday morning, again, and filled it. Again.

And now, today, I did it again (no apology to what’shername). I ate a stale oatbran pretzel. And when I finished it, I realized I didn’t have that filling. Again. I swallowed it again. So my dentist now is away fishing (good for him!) and the one who is covering for him conferred with him and we all agree what’s the point?

I’ll have to get the crown in sooner than later.

So if I stick to soft mushy foods, will I be okay?

Hmm, kefir sounds just about right.

*“Three Times a Lady” is a 1978 single from the funk/soul band the Commodores, from their 1978 album Natural High.

In an appearance on The Early Show on June 12, 2009, Richie said the writer was inspired to write it by a comment his father made about his mother. Reportedly his father said to his mother “I love you. I want you. I need you. Forever” hence the three times^[1]

And here’s a really fascinating piece written about the imagery of the song title!

What’s the definition of a lady these days?

During our bible study last night the subject of Lionel Richie’s song “Three times a lady” arose in connection with a bible lesson about Ruth as an example of a young virtuous woman. When adults and youth were asked their definitions of a lady there were striking contrasts: Adults spoke of integrity, chastity and discipline. Youth spoke of tasteful dress, not being ghetto and education as standards. Adults said a lady would not accept gifts from a man; youth quickly said gifts could be accepted if they were not stolen. Youth never associated chastity or integrity as a criterion; they focused more on public appearances.

It soon became obvious that the definition of a lady has changed for this generation. The youth were on the verge of saying that being a lady may be best but ladies are not popular because ladies don’t sport visible tattoos, dress sexy, flirt or engage in the fun of gossip. They say being a lady is a downer but it is more respectable.

The Isley Brothers asked the question, “Who’s that lady?” and the bible points us to Ruth: A Lady by virtue of her loyalty to her husband, personal integrity and sense of decency in all matters.

Ruth 3:11 says, “… for all the city of my people doth know that thou art a virtuous woman.”

Lionel Richie put it this way, “She’s once, twice, three times a lady.”

Regardless of age a true lady has three characteristics: A sense of responsibility, virtue and decency in all matters.

She’s three times a lady.