Lyttle Theatre of Poor Spelling

What possesses writers of billboards and namers of pet salons and day cares to spell words incorrectly? Jeff argues that it is a fad, is meant to convey a mood, that it catches your attention, or that I'm being a word Nazi. All of that may be true, but it still drives me crazy. You know the ones that I mean.

Kozy Kuttin' Korner
Lite Meal
Krispy Kreme
Olde Towne Theatre

I understand that everyone misspells words occasionally. But this is different. This is on purpose. And not on an hastily written email message or blog. On a billboard. Or cut into poly-plastic and posted above your place of business. It isn't misspelling, it is bad spelling.

Is it supposed to be cute? Why is that cute? This isn't pre-industrial revolution England. Drop the "e." Bad spelling affects your credibility. You think you can cut my dog's hair? You can't even spell cut!

A friend was telling me she wanted to start a day care, and she wanted to call it Kuddles and Kisses. DON'T DO IT! I screamed. Not really. But I thought it loudly. How are people supposed to look her up in the phone book? Unless they have a fone booke. At one point in popular history, this practice may have been to set you apart, but now it is too common. It looks silly.

Okay, I am a bit of a word Nazi.

Overconfidence

I've been thinking about how it is possible to define one thing in two very different ways. Depending on the spin you put on a situation, or the words you use, it can look so different, like night and day. What one person may call inquisitive, another may call nosy. Athletic can be hyper. Faithful can be close-minded. Open-minded can be flighty. Fixated can be determined. Introverted can be thoughtful. It all depends on the spin.

I live with a determined pessimist. He actually has backed off his eternal gray fog since he married me (I like to think I have something to do with that), but he is still definitely on that side of the fence. And actually, I've adopted a bit of his murky attitude in some situations. It is kind of fun sometimes (and grounding) to imagine the bad that can happen in any given circumstance. But generally it is useful, especially with kids, to be generally upbeat. So I've been trying to reconvert myself. My mantra, or theme, if you will, this year is overconfidence. It puts me firmly in the optimist realm.

I got this from that great American classic, Dancing With The Stars. I haven't actually seen a whole episode of this program. Once when I was flipping through the channels, I paused. One of the teachers on this program commented on how he would much rather deal with overconfidence then lack of ... overconfidence causes someone to see mistakes as a fluke, and under confidence tends to make people define mistakes as defeat. It seemed a useful strategy, so I thought I would try it this year.

It has served me well so far. I don't dwell on mistakes. I acknowledge them as a strange hiccup in my otherwise expert performance. When I make a mistake, I acknowledge it, but say to myself, "that is weird, I always get that right." And then I move on. Chances are, the next time I do get it right.

Try it, it makes you really happy ... or delusional, depending on your perspective.

Healthy kids

Someone is coming to my house on Wednesday to talk to me about why my kids are healthy. It is part of a USU study on healthy habits and healthy weight in children. Gabe is in the normal weight range for his age, so we were given the option to participate (and they pay you, so why not?). Since we made the appointment, I've been wondering what they are going to ask ... and what I would answer. Why are my kids in the normal weight range? I've been surprised at how many kids I see at Gabe's elementary school who are heavy. What am I doing right ... we eat okay, but sometimes we don't. We have a computer, and sometimes the kids play it.

I don't think I have any secrets. I'm one of those people who have struggled with my weight on and off. But I feel good now. And it doesn't have much to to with how much I weigh, just about how active I am. Being active -- right now in sports -- makes me happy. And strong. And I use calories without trying. And it is fun. And I get to socialize. And I have a sense of accomplishment when I learn a new skill. And I can eat what I want without the psychological distress I've had about food in the past. There are a lot of great things that come from being active.

I worked for three years at Zion National Park. It was paradise for a lot of reasons, but one of them was because I had to be active every day. I hiked, I jogged, I walked to work, I biked. It was just part of the lifestyle there. Everyone did it, and that made it easier to do. Most people didn't have TVs in their houses. We talked and played games. We read books and looked at maps. We told stories and cooked food. We had dumb contests. It was fun.

I remember a heavy man from Australia came into the visitor center one day. He had talked to several of the rangers behind the desk. He approached me and said, "Why is it that all you park rangers are so damn beautiful?" It wasn't a pickup, he was just curious. It was because we are healthy, I replied.

It is a priority for me to pass to my kids the benefits ... physical and psychological ... of that lifestyle. There are a lot of ways to get to the same end; some people thrive on competition, some people are motivated by love of nature, or adventure. The way I am trying it now is modeling it for my kids, and teaching them some skills. I want them to have a healthy body image, but more importantly, I want them to feel strong, and to know they have control over their muscles, their brain, and their health. But I don't want them to be paranoid ... to think that if they are overweight, they are somehow worth less.

What has worked for you?

Bricks

I changed the name of this blog. When I was at Ricks, starting a degree in journalism, one of my professors had us read an article about writing ... I don't remember the details. The gist was that if you can't think of a topic to write on, you are thinking too broadly. Don't write about the world, narrow it down to your city, to one street, or one building in your city. Or one brick in the building on the street in your city. Then you can write forever.

So now, whenever I can't think about what to write, I think about bricks.

Here's a tag from Bryn.

1. go to my documents/pictures.

2. go to my 6th file folder.

3. go to my 6th picture.

4. blog about it.

There was a 5th step, but I never forward things. Hardly ever.

This is Gabe. He was almost a year old. Our sweet neighbor Emma Dutson (Grandma Emma) had given him this toy, leftover from a toy stash for visiting kids she had maintained. He wiggled out of my grasp one morning when I was dressing him and pushed it around. I was charmed by his complete lack of self-consciousness being in the nude, playing with a toy. And that cute little baby bum.

He was just learning to walk. His body was soft and round and shaped like a jellybean. Now he rollerblades.

Something has happened to me two years in a row ... in the springtime, I get achy for color. Last year, I visited a green house that had row upon row of hanging baskets in bloom (long before the grass had turned green in Logan proper). As I stood among these flowers, it felt like I was eating up the color ... like a vitamin deficiency being corrected. I had a hard time leaving, but when I finally did, I felt re-energized.

This year, I walked by a talented friend's painting studio. It was packed with his work, intense tones, yellow with depth, bright turquoise blue. The same thing happened ... I felt like I was eating up the color. I wonder if color effects other people like this? My theory is that humans didn't evolve to survive a long Logan winter. Spring should be here by now, evolutionarily speaking. And my body is like, "What the heck?" This yellow painting is his, by the way. He is really a great artist. Check out his website.

I was reading in Diane Ackerman's "A Natural History of the Senses" about Synaesthetes (people who experience sensory crossover - like seeing music, or hearing color.) True Synaesthetes are rare, but I think we all have aspects of sensory crossover to some degree. Music effects a lot of people that way. Often, when I have my eyes closed, like when I'm falling asleep, sound comes across my eyelids as fireworks. According to Ackerman, this is a primeavial mistake in the brain, in which sensory centers have not fully separated. I wonder if great artists/writers can use that kind of crossover information.