Letter Openers

The next best thing to a hand written letter is a beautiful letter opener. 

Maybe I get sentimental because I know it’s only a matter of time before a letter opener will just be another object from the past.  Between email and online bills, it’s easy to see that one day the children of the world will ponder the purpose of a letter opener.  But for now, I’ll enjoy the variety I find at yard sales and estate auctions.  I think about how many desks they’ve graced, how many hands have held them, and wonder what news they’ve unleashed.  A letter opener can transport you back to an era of waiting for the postman and the drama of the smooth rip across the envelope.

Here are a few favorites…

This one was probably a giveaway from the Fuller Brush man. Apparently, he went door-to-door selling cleaning and personal care products. How Mad Men is this?

I love the smooth elegant hand juxtaposed with the comical face. 

 

This one commemorates the Cunard Ocean Lines Building in NYC at 25 Broadway. Not long after the building was completed in 1920, Cunard suffered during the Great Depression and merged with rival White Star Lines (of Titanic fame) in 1934. As sea traffic continued to decline because of increased competition from air travel, Cunard sold its grand building in 1966.  Ah, but this letter opener still remains after almost 100 years. 

Letter openers. What stories they could tell…

Seattle Surprises

I didn’t know what to expect when I stepped off the plane on Thursday night last week at the Seattle Tacoma airport.  I was just happy I was linking up with my son, Richie, his partner, Ryan, and Ry’s mom, Lisa.  This was to be our 3^rd Annual Mother/Son Road Trip.

In the back of my mind, I thought cold, damp, rainy, and frankly, a little “meh.” Happily, it was clear, mild, and - surprise - sunny and anything but meh.

On the first day, we took a coffee crawl and Ed, our fabulous host, taught us that Starbucks originated in Seattle in 1971 at the Pike Place Market and was named for the first mate, Starbuck, in the novel Moby Dick.  As we progressed to four other coffee shops, we wondered aloud why there were so many in Seattle. Ed speculated about the weather, the laidback culture, the walkable nature of the city, reasonable rents, etc.  Who knows exactly why, but in terms of density, Seattle has 4x as many coffee shops as New York City. 

Our next stop was the “soul of Seattle,” Pike Place Market.  The vibrant flowers beckoned us in and the honeycrisp apple samples brought us to our knees.  The market was alive with energy and we learned that fish really do fly as fishmongers throw them to get wrapped after purchase.  It’s an amazing blend of talent – stand up comedians, singers, performance artists… all while expertly gutting and filleting fish.  

We put nearby Freemont on our agenda for its quirky factor. Unfortunately we went at night and missed the troll under the bridge, but were able to come face to face with the Lenin statue.  An American teaching in Slovakia found the seven ton bronze sculpture lying face down after the Revolution in 1989 and felt compelled to honor its historic and artistic importance.  He mortgaged his home to purchase it and bring it to the US. People seem to love that art itself triumphed over ideology.

The hills were another surprise. Seattle felt a little San Franciscoesque and is actually surrounded by 200 feet of shoreline. A 35-minute ferry to Bainbridge was a must to squeeze into our two-day adventure.  We didn’t know what was more breath taking – the snowcapped Olympic Mountains or the charming harbor as we approached the island.

Although I always thought of grunge rock originating in Seattle, it’s also home base to many businesses including Boeing, Cinnabon, Eddie Bauer, Nordstrom’s and UPS. Not too grungy.  A stunning 36% of Seattleites get to work by foot, bike, or public transportation, including ferry.  And clean and green is always a nice surprise.

The best part of the trip, though? My utter gratitude to be with these people and share in the beauty of our planet.  Here’s to next March and Road Trip #4.

Have a good day, Hon!

Every city has its kitschy charms.  I’d say one of Baltimore’s is how it channels its inner “hon.”  Rather than try to escape its blue collar, waitress, dockworker, beehive hairstyle image, it embraces it in a warm hug and calls it “hon.” The culture of the 1950’s to the 1970’s Baltimore is captured in John Water’s movies, especially Pink Flamingos, where native Waters parodies everything Baltimore.

In 2010, a local businesswoman in Baltimore trademarked the word “hon” for promotional purposes.  Such was an outpouring of outrage, that she relinquished the trademark a year later.  No one can lay claim to the spirit or heart of something. And that’s the very essence of “hon.”

Suburban Desert

When there aren’t enough sources of fresh food in an urban or rural area – it’s called a food desert.  Could this be happening in suburbia, too?

Over the past year, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend.  Supermarkets are closing.  Right here in the burbs.  At least three within a few miles of each other.  What’s going on?

Some speculate that competition from the big chains is causing these food stores to “underperform.”  Without supermarkets, it tends to make people turn to fast food.  We’re being overfed and undernourished. 

All I know is that it makes me sad. Sad that I can’t jump in my car and pop over to Pathmark.  Sad that my mom can’t step out her apartment and stroll to Superfresh. But mostly, I'm sad for the people who lost their livelihood. 

There’s always hope, though. I heard that a new market is making plans to occupy one of the empty spaces.  I know I'll never take this oasis for granted again.

Wait ... what? Part 4

Wait … what? Part Four

In my never-ending encounters with “wait … what” moments, here are a few more I stumbled upon over the past few weeks.

An ancient statue sports a cool beanie on the Johns Hopkins campus.  He actually wears it well.

I thought it was a little odd to encounter this piece of broken peace.  It would take a brave buyer to pick this off the discount rack. It doesn’t seem to bode well, does it?

They paved paradise, but a little plant still managed to claim a spot in the middle of this parking space - through concrete - after Hurricane Sandy. We should all be that stubborn. 

Enjoy the quirky times in life that make you say, “wait … what?”

Nights at a Round Table

I think all future dining rooms should be square. Why? So that a round table can fit squarely in there.

I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the virtues of the round table.  It’s very democratic. There is no head and everyone is on par. You don’t have to think about where you sit and whether you’ll be stuck next to cousin Mildred who drones on about her cats.  At a round table, everyone is part of every conversation.  There’s no monopolization, polarization, or isolation. 

Legend has it that King Arthur ordered that a round table be built so that none of his knights had precedence over the other. It was a radical concept of equality.   Winston Churchill, too, apparently preferred a round table to conduct business.

So, next time you’re stuck at one end of a long table, think how King Arthur was secure enough not to be a head, but to be ahead of his time.

Four Shadowing

Last weekend I was bombarded with fours.  Was the universe trying to tell me something?

As someone always looking for symbolism, I researched a bit to find that four denotes stability and the tangible nature of things.  Consider the four seasons, the four directions, the four elements, and the four corners of the earth.  Four represents calmness and completeness.  However, four is an unlucky number in Chinese culture, so I’ll calmly and completely ignore that.

In numerology, the recurrence of four in your life signifies organization, hard work, solidity and great strength, but it can also symbolize a sense of restriction and limitation.  Guess it’s time listen to the fours and try to flex without being inflexible and hold strong without holding back.