Not the French Resistance But...

A water color on paper by
Adolf Friedrich Erdmann von Menzel (1815-1905)

I'm not yet on board with reading devices. I've played with them and I appreciate the marvelous factor. Truly.

But here's the moment I keep returning to: 

It's 2005 and I'm sitting heaven side (seat #21) in the library of the St. Louis Historical Society. I've been here for hours already, am thinking the day has brought all it can and am wondering the odds of finding a second Mounds Bar in my purse.

The librarian who's been bringing my requests all afternoon steps to the table and whispers quietly, "Judging by what you've been asking for, I thought you might like to see this." 

She sets down this small and quite worn black book that's maybe 4x5 inches. Her hand rests on it a moment before she smiles and walks away.

I realize something special has been set before me but I can barely read the faded handwriting in this book. It takes another moment for me to realize I'm holding the diary of a Civil War era southern woman. She had written her thoughts as Sherman's troups camped on the grounds of her plantation. Her husband was elsewhere in the war.

It was a moment my friends. A moment where thoughts of Mounds Bars fade. A moment impossible with even the most marvelous of reading devices.

Perhaps that's the rub. As one who smells books, who caresses pages, who believes objects - especially books - possess their own energy, then maybe it's the sterility of iPads and Nooks etc. that I'm resisting.

They're the way of the world, I know. But I wonder your thoughts. Am I alone in this resistance? 

Neither here nor there, but I would have been part of the French Resistance.

One more confession...I haven't a smart phone either.

A Real Player

Facebook is a strange world where you can experience an array of emotions in only moments by simply scrolling down your computer screen. 

Is it this soup pot of emotion that leads some to believe their Facebook friends wait with bated breath for their political views? Is it why some feel they can rally us round and swing us to their side by relentlessly posting images designed to agitate and which possess not a spec of balance?

This has slowed down post election but I confess to pre-election irritation at this phenomenon. While I mostly felt compelled to encourage more critical thinking and less sheep-like behavior, I confess to writing harshly at times. I argued. I un-friended a few friends (although most I had never met). I hid others from view (as if that makes any difference).

Of course I admit to infinitely less irritation when these poster-ish images reflected my own views, but that's not my point...

Now, after talking in real time with a gentleman whom I could not call a friend as I had just met him, I see all this as daylight burned. Facebook has bamboozled us into thinking we're players. 

We're not.

If you want to be a real player, it is not your Facebook friends you write. You write your Congressman and your Senators. You write them ALL the time. It is when they recognize your name that you've become a real player.

The cynical among us will scoff at this. But, I choose to believe the wisdom of our founding fathers - men who felt so strongly about what they were creating they were prepared to die for it.

To that end I've now decided to begin continually writing my representatives. Congresswoman Kathy Castor and Senators Marco Rubio and Bill Nelson will soon recognize my name and, hopefully, look forward to my correspondence. And then, I'll be a real player.

To find the contact info for your Congressman, click here. For your Senator, click here.

FYI, an argument featuring a lack of time holds no water if you've a Facebook page.

I might also mention this isn't exactly my first rodeo. Late on the night I turned 22 I learned President Carter was also born on October 1st. Suddenly I couldn't bear the evening to end without calling the White House to wish him happy birthday. 

I was passed through to three different people and my conversation with each went something like this: "Hi! My name is Laurie Mabury. Today is my birthday and I just learned....etc, etc."

I was finally told the President had already retired for the evening. I made this third woman promise to pass my birthday wish along - literally, I made her say "I promise". She took my address and the next week a birthday card from the White House was delivered to my door.

Ok, it's not exactly the same. And, I'm not suggesting conversations attempting to extract promises. But, it surely couldn't hurt to learn the birthdays of your representatives.

I'm just saying.... 

Wordsmiths

As I write, wordsmiths of the highest order are busy creating neologisms for our language. 

Have you launched yours yet? I've been trying hard with my ja-ba-la-ba-loo, an obvious but delightful play on Fred's Flintstone's ya-ba-da-ba-doo. It's usage doesn't yet appear wide spread.  

Clearly inspired by the unmanageable temperature changes of menopausal women, I've greater hope for my phrase, the Goldilocks's Effect. But enough about my own efforts.

While LOL, BTW and OMG have now officially been added to the Oxford Dictionary, I've trouble believing these abbreviations were created by high-order wordsmiths. It was more likely the dumb luck of tetchy people. 

Although I don't mind telling you, they leave a slight flesh wound. Ja-ba-la-ba-loo has infinitely more zing.

William Spooner (1844–1930) was a neologist and Oxford don famous for spoonerism - the linguistic phenomenon of accidentally - or intentionally - swapping letters, words, or vowels in a sentence... 

- Go and shake a tower: Go and take a shower

- Let us glaze our asses to the queer old Dean: Raise our glasses to the dear old Queen

- We’ll have the hags flung out: flags hung out

That's kinda cute...I mean, that's behind my flute.

To think all the words in all our books are created from only 26 letters...

For those new to neologisms, I'd suggest attempting the Washington Post's Neologism Contest, often featured in their Style Invitational. You're allowed to alter any word by adding, subtracting or changing one letter. You must also offer a new definition. Some of my personal favorites are...

-  SARCHASM: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it  

-  ARACHNOLEPTIC FIT: The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web  

-  CATERPALLOR: The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating 

-  INTAXICATION: the euphoria of getting a tax refund lasting only until you remember it was your money to begin with  

-  PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE: The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to make it work again  

Over time some words simply grow tired, but their meanings cannot be retired. This only fuels neologisms. But personally, I'd still rather "take my ease" than "chillax". I'd rather find myself "bejeweled" than "blinged". 

I mourn the loss of "balderdash" and "gobbledegook". 

I'll continue to make use of "extraordinary" and "astonished" even should the rest of the world let them go. Both are...wicked cool.

Damn Scribbling Women

A famous Victorian male author(perhaps Henry James?) once referred to the era's female authors as "Damn Scribbling Women." It sounds as if this gentleman was feeling the pains of competition but I like "scribbling woman".

A portion on an image you'll soon see in
Steeped: The Wanderings & Delights of a Tea Adventurer

It was these scribbling women who helped open the door to the Victoriana rage beginning in the 1970's and 80's. Scholars sought a feminist approach to literature and turned to the almost unknown women writers of the 19th century. The door was thrown wide open once writers such as Annie Besant, Mary Elizabeth Braddon, Ann Bronte, Ella D'Arcy, and Harriet Martineau were rediscovered. 

Scholars now wanted to investigate the rippling effect of women's writing on women editors, women's newspapers, murder trials of women, New Woman literature and attitudes towards marriage and divorce.

Studying the social history of the 19th century in order to understand its women writers ultimately opened a room with a view not only for scholars, but also for the modern magazine industry, the interior design world, and savvy entrepreneurs. We were hooked on Victoriana.

Thank you rediscovered Scribbling Women!

What an interesting notion though...being rediscovered as a writer. I can see the haughty raising an eyebrow, drily asking, "There was a time we were not read?"

As a minor writer of my time - sitting among the millions of other bloggers and self publishers on the planet - I would long to be the unexpected delight of another generation after passing through this earthly plane. 

Although...I wouldn't know I'd been rediscovered, would I? 

Damn! 

Technically, I'm best described as a scribbling woman fond of elocution. But why mince words? Oh right, that's what writers do - mince words...as well as measure, chop, stir and scramble them.