A Word I Cannot Tame

My entire life, I cannot remember how to spell the word desperation. In fact, within the last five minutes, I spelled it incorrectly elsewhere, which triggered me to blog about it. Perhaps with some concentrated effort, I can correct this problem with my memory chip.

ADMISSION: My first attempt to use the word desperation in this blog post, I spelled it incorrectly too--and always incorrectly the same way. I have no idea what this means, but I'm thinking something!

Okay, I took a short pause after that last paragraph to look up the meaning of the word, to further explain how desperate [Keep typing it, Charlene, for that repetitive learning curve] I am to get it right. I had no idea a synonym for the word desperate is despair.

Great, so now I've learned I don't even use the word correctly! WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN? I often feel desperate, but almost never, ever, never despairing, which feels like a totally different thing to me.

For instance, if I'm desperate (GADS! I just had to correct that spelling--and I am not making that up!) to get somewhere on time, I don't feel despairing. Just acutely concerned, clinging by my fingernails, plowing full bore. Know what I mean? That doesn't feel like despair to me, which I thought meant hopeless, as in facing the reality that whatever you're trying to accomplish is not going to happen. There is no longer hope. Not desperate [OMY, Charlene! Not another correction!], which I thought meant frenzied, back-against-the-wall, but still hopeful, still possible, likely achievable through a frenzied attack.

Anyone else like me have this wrong in their heads?

But now the worst part is this: since learning I not only spell incorrectly, but don't know jack, I now DO feel on the very verge of despair. Will I always be this lacking???

Stupid words.
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For your inquiring minds, here is the way I always spell desperation (or desperate) before I am corrected. Desparation. Anyone else? ANYONE?

A brilliant Top 10: Autism & Seniors

I had breakfast this morning with writer, blogger and author  Lynn Hudoba. It's the first time we've met. I discovered Lynn's magnificent Voice several months ago when I read one of her brilliant columns in a daily Patch email for my local area. I loved the piece so much, I left a comment. Several months later, I caught her Voice again. This time, I didn't leave a comment, I tracked her down. I wanted to do everything I could to encourage the fresh Voice that really got my attention.

Lynn has a unique and captivating humor to her writing, even though she's talking about a very serious topic. (Words that make a difference!) Her daughter Audrey is autistic.  Whether you're dealing with a child with special needs, or any issue in your life, who doesn't need to laugh? Although autism isn't close to my personal realm of experience, her Voice and wisdom speak well beyond her topic.

While we were eating and chatting (and changing tables FIVE TIMES in Panera Bread--and I am not making that up--because no matter where we moved, the sun was in one of our eyes), I caught several relatable similarities in stories about her daughter, and stories about little old me. When I mentioned that, she said she'd already blogged a Top Ten list on the relationship between children with autism and senior citizens. As she mentioned a few particulars, I laughed out loud. I think when you read her list, you will too.

I came home happier for having met her. I wish her the best. When someone writes funny words that matter, it's good for all of us.

Lynn's has a Kindle book available. Check it out! 

Words That Sell

During the Superbowl, each time they cut to a commercial, a hush fell over our room full of guests. We couldn't wait to see what clever words, images and pitch stories reeled us in or left us cold. (Also, we had a pool for things like first commercial after first interception. Our motto: With money on the line, we pay attention.)

Sometimes the commercials that most kept our focus didn't have much to do with the product. A good story sells. (?) Other times, the product was obvious, but the commercial dudded out. Nonetheless, we tuned in, proving that whatever advertisers paid for the slots, they likely got their money's worth, at least in attentiveness.

I occasionally watch QVC or HSN, just to marvel at the sustained energy of a good pitch person. It's crazy how lathered up they can get the viewer (okay, me) over the most common thing, like the way a seam is sewn into a blouse. A few times a year, due to their convincing bouts of show-and-tell, not to mention the ticking clock and rapidly shrinking inventory on this must-have product (We only have 500 left, folks!), I order something.

When I stroll through the grocery store, I find the word "NEW" splashed across products in nearly every aisle. I wonder how long they pitch us with that ploy? Until their next NEW version evolves? Still, I sometimes succumb to the NEW version and give it a try.

In the end (no pun intended, maybe), sometimes products live up to their billing. Other times, not so much. But today, I'm here to tell you that some pitch words related to products are spot on. "Freshens Better Than Bathroom Tissue alone." I make no money on this statement. I'm just saying ... :)

Lasting Words of Love

My friend Terri sent a beautiful email today, Valentine's Day. In it, she spoke of her late husband, musician Thomas Chapin. She included a few memories and a link to a very special Valentine gift she received from Thomas, long after he was gone from this earth. It's a remarkable story of tenderness and the surprise of Lasting Words, first spoken, then recorded, now written about. Enjoy. Thank you, Terri. Thank you.

Misreads, Wrong Perceptions

I just read a lovely piece in Shelf Awareness about columnist and author Jeffrey Zaslow, who recently passed away in an automobile accident. Soon after notification of his death, I'd noticed the Twitter stream fill with kind words and expressions about how much his voice would be missed.

When I got to the second from the last paragraph in the article, there appeared a link referring to his expensive obituary in the New York Times. I clicked, read, felt the celebration of his life and the sorrow of his loss, added a couple of his titles to my to-be-read book list. It was clear that his shining words, which often focused on people searching for meaning in their lives, were worthy reads.

By the time I finished the article, and the info at each link, including the obituary--each affirming the power and effect of Mr. Zaslow's printed words, left behind as a testimony to his heart and talent--I realized my feathers were good and ruffled. Why would someone writing such a lovely tributary piece have the bad taste to mention the expense of an obituary! I looked again at the obit link, just to purse my lips, shake my head.

And there is was. The word wasn't EXPENSIVE, it was EXTENSIVE.

The power of words and meaning. A good reminder that all words, whether spoken, read or written, should be carefully considered.

The day I decided to launch this blog

I've been noodling around the Internet, "checking in" with my Facebook and Twitter friends, curious how long it's been since I posted a Traveling Laugh. Later today, I'm planning to begin work on a  TwinkleGram.

Is there no END to your social media blathering, Charlene?!

Yet, while flicking from one set of hosted words to the next, a thought niggles. Sometimes my brain ignites a MUST-SHARE! idea, question, quote or curiosity that does not quite "fit" any of my aforementioned stay-in-touch outlets, not even the books I write.

As I type this Words to Help You Twinkle blog intro, of sorts, I am reminding myself that I do not have time to start something new. Hel-LO, Charlene! Your estrogen powers are waning in this twilight season of your life. Nonetheless, here I happily go anyway, Pandora cranking in the background, launching this new endeavor. I can't stop thinking about WORDS. Words that make me twinkle with every layer of  definition.

Case in point. Earlier today I was reading a recent copy of Shelf Awareness. In it, I found an article called Wi7, which stands for Winter Institute 7: Social Media. In the second paragraph, I read about author John Green who wrote a book called The Fault in our Stars. Seems his book has been a  bestseller. My blinking (not quite twinkling) rapid-fire thoughts went something like this: Never heard of the guy. Never heard of the book. Why can't I keep up? How did I not notice a title with the word star in it? What is the book about anyway? I'll look it up later. And ... I'm on to the next paragraph, which is a recap about a guy named Dan Cullen who cites statistics from PEW Research. HAHAHAHA! PEW Research. As in P.U. pew-ey! As in ... that's juvenile, Charlene. You're 66. Snap out of it. Then I read where Cullen says that my demographic, whom he refers to as "wired seniors," is the fastest growing segment using social media. Wired senior, huh? As much social networking as I do, my nickname should be The Electrified Geezerette.


I finish reading that article and move on to the picture below it. I love pictures. The cutline explains who the dudes are, and it happens again! I learn of another book title which I've never heard of. Film School: The True Story of a Midwestern Family Man Who Went to the World's Most Famous Film School, Fell Flat on His Face, Had a Stroke, and Sold a Television Series to CBS, by Steve Boman. How much do I love THAT title? Lots. So I try to Tweet it, but it's too long. Even Deck.ly, TweetDeck's answer to Tweets longer than 140 characters, has a problem sending it. [Sidenote: While nabbing the link for TweetDeck, my home computer Tweeting choice, I learned TweetDeck is aimed at "power users". STAND BACK!]


If only you had your own blog, Charlene, you could talk about that book title there!


Next thing I know, I'm playing with Blogger templates and ... Here you go. Words to Help You Twinkle, blog post number one.
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END NOTES:

--I did look up this John Green chap. His interview (wait till you see who's conducting it!) on B&N made me laugh out loud.  I've now added The Fault of Stars to my reading list. Curious words beget searched words, beget another book on the pile. Amen.


--The PEW Research Center isn't funny. It's smart. I checked. You might wanna too.