Google Steals My Heart

While doing a quick search for something online this morning, I noticed the Google logo had another fun interpretation. There on the screen was an old-fashioned illustration of a big ol’ double-o ice cream sundae ~ and my heart skipped a beat.

You don’t understand. Or maybe you do. Maybe you share my love for sundaes.

To explain: I am a hot-fudge sundae aficionado. I was weaned on chocolate, you see, and later treated to a secret family recipe for hot fudge sauce, which I now make on a regular basis. And of course the purpose of ice cream is to serve as a vehicle for the hot fudge. So I should probably admit that it’s really more about the good sauce than the ice cream, but in truth, together they’re dreamy.

Plus … ice cream sundaes are just “happy”. Did you ever see someone who was unhappy while eating ice cream? Seriously. It’s a gift from the Gods.

Now that you know this juicy personal tidbit, you can see why I was delighted to learn, via today’s clever Google logo, that today marks the 119th anniversary of The Ice Cream Sundae. How cool is that? (Maybe cooler if it were a rounder number, but I’ll take it.)

Apparently The Sundae was “invented” in 1893, by Ithaca, New York soda fountain proprietors Chester Platt and John M. Scott. It was first called a “Cherry Sunday”, because it was served on a Sunday, presumably with a cherry on top.

Eventually, I don’t know how, and am too excited to care, the name changed from “Cherry Sunday” to simply “Sundae” (although my word loving mind is a bit curious, how it went from Sunday, to the sort of Shakespearian spelling of Sundae… I’ll find that some other time…)

So please go ahead and enjoy an Ice Cream Sundae in honor of its anniversary. And smile all the while.

Thanks Google!

6

"Please Like Me"

It’s the new phrase everyone’s using on Facebook, and every time I hear it I can’t help but think of Sally Fields, accepting her Oscar in 1985 and girlishly exclaiming, “You like me, you really like me!”

It’s something everyone wants. From hoping you don’t get chosen last for the 2nd grade baseball team, to full-fledged grown-up-dom hoping for a fist full of friends you can count on … I guess it’s just human nature to want to be liked.

But now it’s taken on new meaning. In addition to the classic human desire, there’s now the business desire to rack up “likes” on your Facebook Page.

It’s not so much about ego though ~ it’s about getting noticed in the sea of stuff vying for everyone’s attention. It’s about visibility. Those search engines like “likes”. So with more “likes”, the search engines take note and help remove the cloak of invisibility by sharing more fervently. And while surprisingly easy to do (and completely painless, I might add), it can go some distance for helping out the little guy (or gal). It’s a kind of marketing currency, except it’s free.

So let me go ahead and unabashedly ask ~ if you’re already part of Facebook, and you like my work, please go over to my new FB Artist Page and “like” me. I’d be grateful! I might even feel like Sally Fields.

And please remember that everyone wants to be liked. So, this isn’t just about me (although, now that I think of it … have you gone and “liked” my page yet? 8) … ).  Seriously, if you want to show your support for someone out here in cyberspace – an artist, a musician, a small business, and sure, even the big ones… take the two seconds to hit the like button. It’s a vote of confidence that they’ll appreciate!


0

Lessons from Daffodils

It snowed last night. We’d all hoped it wouldn’t, and that spring might have been here to stay. It’s March though, so not a huge surprise.

But what about the daffodils? They were almost full grown, and while I knew they’d “weather the storm”, I still felt kinda sorry for them.

And in the same breath, I felt admiration. They’ve got looks, delicacy and toughness all wrapped up. We could learn a lesson or two from the daffodil.

Maybe it would be to rest in winter, allowing our roots to replenish.  And after the cold weary days have dragged on… and on …, be the first to send out hope, defiantly and boldly sprouting up in February’s first light.

And maybe then, ignoring naysayers who suggest “it’s too soon, nobody else is growing yet”, or “don’t you know something bad could happen?”, or “silly daffodil, such a dreamer” … we stand by our conviction. We encourage others. We grow taller. We bask with confidence.

And when the inevitable happens ~ (but is it inevitable? they say it is, so it must be) ~ when the inevitable bad thing showers down upon us (the one we were warned about) ~ we cover our heads, huddle together, look inward and brave it out, the strength from our nourished roots holding us tight. Knowing this will pass. Knowing we’ll stand again, straight and tall. And knowing, that bending in the breeze, we’ll bloom, and share our blossoms with all who pass by.

Some may never notice our brilliance ~ (and we all have some) ~ but a few will notice, and will be the better for it. Perhaps that’s all we can ask for, and perhaps that’s good enough.

6

A Plethora of P's / #7: "Patience"

“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” ~ Winnie the Pooh

Time. The great illusionist. Ticks slowly when we want something to happen; the fast-forward button gets pressed when we’ve got someplace to be.

Time seems to move faster and faster; like it’s in a race. (The great rat-race?) The world’s in such a hurry.

I grew up hearing that “Patience is a virtue”, and I think that’s true. But it’s more than a display of fine character. Exercising patience allows things to unfold more gracefully, in their own right time. And it’s a challenge!

Patience is about what we can tolerate before blowing a personal fuse. It tests us in many forms ~ patience towards self, patience towards others, towards listening, towards learning, towards a menial task, towards traffic jams, towards time …  Wouldn’t it feel good if we could toss the accompanying irritation out the window? Have it vanish in thin air and just “go with the flow”? Easier said than done ~ but possible, if we re-calibrate our thoughts.

We come into this world packaged with personality intact, “strengths and weaknesses” already flowing through our veins, inborn traits determining whether we have more or less of this or that characteristic.

That doesn’t mean, though, that someone born with an impatient nature can’t develop greater degrees of patience ~ not necessarily reaching levels of saintliness, but we are ever-growing, learning, changing beings who can and do evolve and enhance our existence by stretching, expanding and nurturing the various aspects of our inherent nature. Patience is one well worth the effort. Think about it …

Feeling impatient can be such a maddening, aggravating, blood-pressure-rising experience, the solution might seem to be to hurry through it, be done with it. But we all know that doesn’t work …  it doesn’t make the traffic light turn green, it doesn’t make the baby stop crying, it doesn’t make the pot boil, it doesn’t make the flower grow, it doesn’t erase a mistake you might have made; it only lets you experience impatience.

So maybe we can’t make grapes ripen faster on the vine… and if we harvest them too soon, we end up with sour grapes. (And I’m pretty sure that creating sour grapes isn’t on anyone’s bucket list.)

But we can, instead, think patient anticipation. We can shift our focus to eagerness. Patience then is not a passive burden but steps that light up the path.

A wonderful thing happens when you take a few deep breaths and mindfully infuse patience: resistance backs off.  You can be present. You can even begin to enjoy and participate in the unfolding.

Maybe we should heed the line from the old Simon & Garfunkel song, “slow down, you move too fast,  you got to make the morning last …”. Because when we don’t, we don’t feel so “groovy”.

The river doesn’t ask “are we there yet?”. Like the river, we’ll all get where we’re going.


2

Deliciously Cool: Google's Art Project

Imagine each stroke of Van Gogh’s brush. Or Matisse or Manet’s.

Well, now you can see them. And from the short time I’ve had to wander through Google’s Art Project, the images are as brilliant and breathtaking as any virtual images could be. Possibly a masterpiece itself.

It boggles the mind – what a massive undertaking! – and it’s superbly done. Online, you can “Explore museums from around the world, discover and view hundreds of artworks at incredible zoom levels, and even create and share your own collection of masterpieces.”

If you haven’t already (I’m sure the buzz has swelled by now!), it’s a site completely worth visiting. It’s an experience!

3

A Plethora of P's / #6: "Presence"

Presence is a medium-sized word with larger than life impact. Presence is a simple act, but a very big deal. Presence is about being mindful, being aware, being completely, undistractedly, present right here and now.

Presence is granular. It’s thinking the thought, it’s feeling the feeling, it’s tasting the taste.

It’s not about “showing up”; it’s about being attentive. It’s a decision to listen, to see, to intentionally connect. It’s a very deliberate action based on the deliberate thought to be present. Presence is to choose, in this moment, this moment.

I would go so far as to promise you’ll feel a positive difference in your day when you consciously choose to practice being present. … You will truly enjoy that cup of coffee. You will appreciate the comfortable chair. You will experience an unexpected delight somewhere that you otherwise would have missed. And by allowing yourself the opportunity to make simple yet mindful choices each hour, all day, you even may find that you will slow down time a little bit. You will also give others one of the best gifts you can give – your sincere attention. And if you need to move on, remember that that sincerity ~ your presence ~ even in small doses ~ is far better than any amount of “yea, yea, uh-huh”.

Our world is fast-paced and gaining speed. I say, don’t let that fool us into passing by on the powerful thought, and simple action, of presence in our own lives.

•••

Note: the complete series of positive P words can be seen unfolding all together on the “Plethora of P’s” page of this blog,

5

Shout Out to Chattanooga

I got up early today to do some online Christmas shopping before work, and noticed a special email message from Amazon. Turns out they’ve added some nifty features for Authors, and I have to say “kudos to Amazon” for adding these nice analytic tools.

Because of the new tools, I can see where and how many copies of my two books, “The Book of Mermaids” and “A Book of Fairies”, are sold each week. So I want to say Thank You to all of you who’ve bought my books from places like New York, Boston, Rhode Island, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Seattle, Portland, Chicago, Cleveland, Cincinnati, Indianapolis, New Orleans, North Carolina, Montana, LA, San Francisco, Nashville, Albuquerque, Omaha, Oklahoma CIty, Kansas City, Detroit, Phoenix, Hartford, Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Washington DC, Miami, Dallas, Houston and Denver.

And a special shout out to a lone somebody in Chattanooga, Tennessee, who bought “A Book of Fairies” last week. I don’t know who you are, but I thank you  ~ and I send you best wishes!

We’re not talking NYTimes Top 10 bestsellers here, but the numbers are good and I have to tell you it’s a thrill to see the reach, and to know that kids and parents all over the country are reading and sharing things I created. Things that originated in one heart and mind … made its way to pencil, ink and paper, and to a publisher who found it worthy to print, and into the hands of people near and far. Every purchase is an honor.

Thanks everyone!

0