Tuesday, December 29, 2009

A Christmas Miracle

I am not a big vitamin person, but I am superstitious, so I buy Airborne and take it whenever I fly. Why not? It was invented by a teacher. I never understood the logic in advertising this fact. When I was a teacher, I was sick constantly. The only immunity was a snow day. The only chemistry I found useful was the peanut butter solution: i.e., a large glob of peanut butter will remove a large glob of gum from a student's hair. Still I take Airborne when I fly and still inevitably get sick as soon as I arrive at home. (Maybe it only works on outbound flights. They should do a study.)

This holiday season I was going to visit my sister in Baltimore, but I decided that with the H1N1 stuff, I would stay in sunny CA. I missed my sister's birthday and seeing my great-niece in a terrific off-Broadway production of Annie. (It was so far off Broadway, it was in Pennsylvania, but it was still great, according to video evidence.) I did feel guilty, but at least I wasn't sick. Until Christmas Eve, when I got that tickle in the back of the throat: the one that tells you the germs are pitching their tents, like the little green guys in the annoying Mucinex commercials.


By Christmas morning my throat was on fire, and my voice was gone. My husband looked at my red eyes and asked what was wrong. I pointed to my throat and gestured. "You can't talk?" he asked. I nodded. Blue eyes twinkling, he responded, "It's a Christmas miracle!" This made me laugh, and then the coughing began.

He went out to get me the usual cold meds, including Mucinex. Do you know how expensive that stuff is? They must pay those green goblins SAG scale. I now believe that guilt causes excess phlegm. Furthermore, if you miss your great-niece's off-Broadway debut, you deserve whatever you get. I'm a former teacher, so you ought to believe me.

My voice is back, but I still sound like a donkey braying. My husband dutifully makes me tea, but I know he is disappointed that the Christmas miracle didn't work as well as the Hannukah one, which lasted for eight days. It will be a quiet New Year's at the Amerikaner house. But it usually is.

Woody Allen said the only cultural advantage to living in LA is being able to make a right turn on red. There is another one, even better: being able to watch the ball come down in Times Square at 9 p.m. Pacific Time, swallow your Mucinex and get into bed by 9:15.

Happy New Year! Stay safe and well!

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Visions of Ice Skates Dance in My Head!


It happens to me every winter. I see the Christmas tree and the skating rink at Rockefeller Center on the Today Show. I stop eating my chocolate Chanukah coins. (And now they come in dark chocolate...full of antioxidants and fat.) I put on my pedometer and walk. I lose five pounds. Bingo. I am transformed. My brain tells me that I am really 23, graceful and born to skate. Surprisingly, I can ice skate. Sort of. I can stand in ice skates, I can walk to the concession stand in ice skates and get hot chocolate. I can skate forwards and not fall or bump into anybody. That's about it. In order for me to stop skating I literally have to skate into the wall. In life there's always a wall handy when you need to hit one.

Still, every year this time, like sugarplums (whatever they are), these crazy thoughts dance in my head. The local rink gives lessons, and isn't this the time for dreams to come true? I mean, look at Sasha Cohen. We have a lot something in common. We're Jewish.  


Fortunately, this is also the time of the year when our best friends gather round. I told my dear friend Sarina about my idea to take lessons. To her credit, she did not laugh or even mention the word osteoporosis. She simply noted that if I did learn more (such as how to stop without bashing into a wall), I would probably still spend most of my time skating around in a circle. Bingo. She got me. I am a klutz and would never do a single lutz! The fantasy faded, and I saw a more realistic vision of me on ice skates.

So here's to all your holiday fantasies and dreams. May the ones that won't leave you in traction come true. I wish for all of you the best gift of all...friends that hold you up when you need it most; friends that point you in the right direction; friends that keep you from skating around in circles. Friends that make you feel like this...

Bless my friends (and yes, Erik, that includes you) who lift me to my best self every day. I hope I return the amazing grace. Happy Holidays! Happy New Year!

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Wi-Fi Detector Shirts?


I stay home with my computer, but the times are changin' for our texting, sexting, connecting kids. So I thought this Wi-Fi Detector Shirt was a groovy (OMG, that word really shows my age, doesn't it?) gift idea for a young guy with a laptop, places to go and things to do. Yes, Think Geek also has other cool gadgets. Does anybody really NEED this shirt? Of course not. But you gotta admit, a shirt that glows and displays the current Wi-Fi signal strength has a high "cool factor." And think how impressed your kid would be to discover that you even know what Wi-Fi is!

Now if they would only invent a shirt that finds the signal for your bank account and glows red to tell you to STOP when you're over your limit! Some people have innate spending detectors. My husband, for example. He often turns red when he shops with me. A shirt would be much more fun than a grumpy spouse. C'mon geeks. Invent a Debt Detector Shirt for next year!

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

What Does Barbie Tell Us?


Classic toys tell us a lot about our culture, but I'm not sure what. They reveal changes in the way we view childhood and in the way we look over our shoulder at our past. There have been volumes written about Barbie. I had the first one in 1959 seen here. No, it's not mine. I wish. If I had never taken her out of the box, I probably could have put my kids through graduate school. Who knew? When I got Barbie, I was ten years old. Now the major fans of Barbie dolls are two disparate groups: girls 2-4 years old. (Yes, two to four! Scary, huh?) However, 90% of Barbie lovers are women over the age of 40. Many of these grown-up girls will spend $1,000 a year and buy more than 20 Barbie dolls each year.


These are the kind of Barbie dolls that adults buy: Elvis and Priscilla in replicas of their actual wedding outfits. A Goldie Hawn Barbie from the "Laugh-In" days. A Joan Jett Barbie. A Cyndi Lauper Barbie is coming in 2010. Barbie's like the character in the Woody Allen movie "Zelig." She's been around. You can buy these from my link to Entertainment Earth, the same place you can buy Star Trek Tribbles and a life-size Captain Kirk "bridge chair."



I don't buy Barbie dolls, but I understand the appeal. To be honest, I do have a set of Beatle dolls that I got when I worked for a company that made licensed items. And I'm holding on to them. Ringo is missing his drums, but the moptops are in the original box, and maybe my future grandchildren can use them to fund college.

Do you buy replicas or save originals of nostalgic dolls? Please share in the comments!

Friday, December 11, 2009

What Will Your Kids Remember?

This is the time of year for creating new memories and savoring the ones we have.  We well up when we look back at poignant, emotional pictures of the past. Our most persistent memory of a loved one, however, is not always the one we expect. 
Sometimes we get stuck in a loop of  inconsequential or downright goofy moments in our family history. My late stepfather was a charming, erudite, brilliant dermatologist who could cure any itch, hive, wart or blackhead in Baltimore. At this time of year, when we go out to dinner with people for celebrations, I can never get out of my mind his after-dinner trick. He would fold a linen napkin into a woman's brassiere. It was always a crowd pleaser, and I could never figure out how he did it. I thought he took the secret to his grave. Then I saw this Napkin Origami book on Amazon and immediately took a look. It's a nice book, but alas, no bras: swans, seashells, ice cream cones--maybe things to haunt the memories of your progeny. Origami bras might not be you.


The same page on Amazon displayed the Toilet Paper Origami Book. This intrigued me. I read the comments. Apparently some people enjoy leaving little "toilegami" flowers in guest bathrooms or even in public restrooms. The world is such an amazing place. I never thought that a "random act of kindness" would involve toilet paper. If I walked into a stall in Target and found a toilet paper seagull, would I be pleasantly surprised or would I call security?

I was determined to uncover my stepfather's lost art. I googled "make napkin into bra" and found several videos. In case you want to entertain your friends and family, I suggest you watch the video below. Then practice, practice, practice. My late stepfather, Dr. Fred Glass, performed the napkin bra trick effortlessly with grace and style. Trust me. You never know what your kids are going to remember, so you'd better do everything with all the panache you've got.







Diva Update:
It is pouring again in California, and my Fireplace DVD arrived. It takes no less than three remotes to start it going, but I love it. The crackling sounds, however, are driving my dog nuts...

Monday, December 7, 2009

Cozy Cabin Fever


In my last post I wrote that we have no weather here -- nothing but relentless sunshine. Naturally today it was pouring a gloppy California rain. All I wanted to do was snuggle up with a book by the fire. But we don't have a fireplace. As I browse catalogs, I realize that this fireplace fantasy is ubiquitous. Catalogs like Plow and Hearth abound with "cabin" tschotkes: dancing bear rugs, rustic lamps, full body bear pillows, freestanding electric fireplaces, etc. I don't quite get the bear angle. If I want to hug something big and hairy, I have my husband.


I do have scruples about excessive consumerism, really I do...but like Tiger Woods (what is it about the "woods" metaphors?), I must confess a transgression. Today, as a result of "cozy cabin fever," I bought something on Amazon that made my scruples stand on end, but even stiff scruples couldn't stop me. I ordered a Fireplace DVD to play on the big-screen TV, which is in the middle of our living room--where a fireplace would be if we had one. There you have it. I am guilty of stupid consumerism in the first degree. Sometimes a moth gets too close to the flame, and that's what happens to me with catalogs and online shopping. Meanwhile, the hot weather girl the meteorologist on Channel 9 says there will more rain at the end of the week. I can't wait for my crackling HD DVD to arrive! If Erik complains, I will simply point out how lucky he is that we don't have room for the freestanding electric fireplace. (Those start at $399 and go up to $999.) The DVD was only $15, so I really saved us a ton, hon.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

The Perfect Anniversary Gift


I've been pondering what to get my husband Erik for our 30th anniversary. He loves gadgets, as long as they aren't extravagant. He teaches technology. The most important lesson he has ever taught me about computers is this: when your computer goes nuts, just turn it off, unplug it -- and go have a cup of coffee. Then try it again. This bit of advice works 99.9% of the time. The rest of the time it's handy to sleep with the tech guy.

What to get him? We can't afford an iPhone. Then serendipity gave me a clue. I walked into the living room where he was watching the news and starting flapping my lips as usual. Erik didn't take his eyes off the screen; just stretched out his arm and held up his palm in a serious "STOP" gesture. "Shhh," he said, "I'm listening to the weather." This happened several weeknights in a row. Eureka! One of those sleek wireless weather stations. Under $50. That's it!

I was about to go online and order it, but something was gnawing at me. It was the fact that we live in Ventura, California, and we really don't have weather. We have glorious, relentless sunshine--day in, day out. Temperatures span the whole gamut from 60-70 degrees. So the next time the "Shush" arm came out, I decided to sit down and watch the weather, too. After all, I grew up in Baltimore where watching weather was important. It changed every ten minutes and had tremendous consequences on how my hair would look. It is vital for a woman to know the weather, particularly when humidity is involved. As I looked at the screen, I realized I would have to rethink the gift. Below is a video of our Channel 9 local weather. You don't have to watch long to get the picture. 



If you have trouble viewing, search for Jackie Johnson, "hot weather girl," on YouTube. I googled her, and would you believe that in college she actually majored in meteorology but switched to broadcasting? Good move, Jackie.

I still don't know what to get for Erik. A boob job? Nah. Maybe just keeping quiet while he watches the weather is enough of a gift. Yeah, he'll appreciate that. You don't stay married for 30 years without knowing when to shut up.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Who Let the Dogs Out & Where Did They Go?



Ever wonder what your pet does all day? Do you have a frisky feline or a cavorting canine? Solutions once again comes to the rescue. For $49.95 it offers the Pet's Eye View Camera--a digital camera that clips to your pet's collar so you can literally follow its tracks. And you can download these photos to your computer so you can send them out like a real "puparazzi." If only Mrs. Wood's had clipped one to her pet Tiger...


Actually, I love photo gifts, because I think that captured moments of life are the most valuable items you can ever own. When asked what material goods they would take if they have to evacuate their homes in an emergency, people always answer: PHOTOS. I really like this personalized Rubik's Cube (about $29) as a gift, but you'll have to hustle if you want one for the holidays. There are several catalog and online companies that have it. This one is from The Personalization Mall. You need to upload photos from your computer, and close-ups work best. This photo puzzler is sweet--and it even forces the recipient to exercise brain power and eye-hand coordination. (You can take me out of the classroom, but you can't take the classroom out of me!) 


Another find in the Solutions Catalog that had me laughing was this unique Doggie Fetch Toy. The catalog calls this item (#86094) a "Humunga Stache." You throw it, and the dog grabs it by the ball side and thus ends up looking like Inspector Clousseau. Imagine if the dog was also wearing the Pet's Eye View Camera to get reaction shots?! Woof!

Have you found some great pet gifts? Please share them in the Comments!

Monday, November 30, 2009

Cyber Week: Bring Home the Bacon!


If a million years from now a future race finds nothing left but catalogs, what would they deduce about our civilization? What would they think of beings who invented Bacon Soap? I stumbled upon an online site aptly named Perpetual Kid, and it instantly became one of my favorites. Browsing it is sheer hilarity, and I bet you end up finding something you can't resist. Often I wonder who would use these things. Bacon Soap, for example. Oooh. Oooh. I know! How about a guy trying to impress a girl whose dog doesn't like him? Unless her pooch is a pitbull, this could work. 

Their Waffles and Syrup Soap is something I would buy. Who wouldn't want to smell like waffles, butter and syrup? A humane solution if you need to wash your kid's mouth out with soap...and an adorable gift for foodies. Perpetual Kid has a selection of sillly, succulent soaps including Hot Dog & Bun and a Double Stack of Blueberry Pancakes. Prices range from $3.99-$6.99.


Who knew bandages could be a creative gift idea? Perpetual Kid has everything from Pickle Bandages to Sushi Bandages to Bacon and Egg Bandages. Why not put a sunny-side egg on a scraped knee?! And there are the ever so sweet Boo-Boo Kisses Bandages. Awwww.
 
The goofiest (and maybe most practical) gift item on Perpetual Kid is their "Anti-Theft" Plastic Lunch Bags. Don't you hate it when you pack a sandwich, stash it in the company fridge and have it snatched by a nefarious co-worker? Well, fear no more! Just pack your sandwich inside one of these plastic bags, and it will be disguised as a moldy gross sandwich. (Who came up with this?!) 25 anti-theft bags: $9.99.


DIVA UPDATE
All my friends who use bar soap LOVE the Absorbent Soap Dishes from The Discount Cupboard. Only $2.99 each, these are made of a stone that sucks up the glop from bar soap and makes the bar last forever. The Diva uses them for her Dove Soap, and it lasts for months. And it's good for the environment to use bar soap rather than the liquid that comes in plastic bottles! Holiday gift basket idea: get some Blueberry Stack Pancake soap from Perpetual Kid and pair it with an absorbent soap dish from The Discount Cupboard!

Monday, November 23, 2009

How to Lose Weight and (maybe) Get Rich!


I want to look like the perky gal over there. Truth is, I wasn't built like that even when I was built like that...  It is almost Thanksgiving, and if I don't do something about my weight, I will have to buy clothes in the next size, which is Petite 16. This is an oxymoron. There is nothing petite about a Size 16!  (I call this size Jumbo Shrimp.) As a Lifetime Weight Watcher member, I'm convinced that if I return on January 1, confetti and balloons will fall from the ceiling as they announce that I have started over more times than any Weight Watcher in history. Hooray! Without members like me, they'd be out of business. Have you tried the new Weight Watcher Red Velvet Snack Bars? I have. 16 of them in one sitting.

So I am back to wearing my Omron HJ-112 Digital Pocket Pedometer, walking 10,000 steps a day and eating sensibly. A pedometer is a good fitness motivator, but I have another surprising suggestion to help you - or someone you love-get moving. A few years ago I met a wonderful woman at the Pritikin Center who had lost lots of weight with the 10,000 steps a day/eating right program. But she had trouble getting her overweight husband to walk. She would drive to scenic spots; he would sit in the car. Then she got him a METAL DETECTOR. He got hooked on finding treasures: watches, jewelry, old coins. She walked, he walked, and (naturally) he ended up losing more weight than she did! 

A metal detector is a great idea to get kids going, too. You can find cheapies, but you usually get what you pay for. Consider quality American made products such as White's Metal Detectors which start at $200-300 for basic beginners and go up. Try a hobby store for good products and advice. There are detectors for different terrains, such as beach, woods and concrete or urban environments. Click here to see a selection of Books on Metal Detecting. A book with a detector would make a unique (and possibly life-changing) gift. I read one story about two kids who found an $11,000 diamond ring with a very inexpensive detector--on their first outing. Maybe you can get rich and thin at the same time! At least you can have fun trying.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

SkyMall Fever


They say those infamous Northwest pilots may have been on their computers when they overshot Minneapolis. I disagree. I think they were either reading their SkyMall Catalogs (who doesn't?) or they were using something they had previously purchased from the SkyMall Catalog: the $199.99 Feng Shui Compass. "Using advanced aerospace guidance technology, it locates and calculates supportive energy fields...to align your physical surroundings to manifest your goals and intentions." I do not make this up.

The device takes your birth date and applies astrological and "geological" data to plot your personal "positive energy flows" in four categories: relationships, health, success and growth. SkyMall reviewers claim this karma chameleon changes lives. One business owner says it helps him sit in the right seat in the board room for important meetings. (I always thought that was the seat nearest the bathroom.) Travelers say it assures them their hotel room is facing one of their "good directions." Thus they get a better night's sleep, even if they have to sleep diagonally on the bed. (I just take the bed nearest the bathroom.)

My theory is that both Northwest pilots whipped out their Feng Shui Compasses to fly the plane toward their positive energy fields--but these were in conflict. Senior pilot was aiming towards a hot former Flight Attendant sipping Mouton Rothschild by the fireplace of her St. Paul townhouse. The co-pilot was yearning for a meaningful relationship with a nimble pole dancer lounging diagonally on a pillowtop bed in Vegas. Dueling Feng Shui compasses cause cockpit turbulence. That's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

Diva Update
My husband's plug-in coffee commuter mug has ceased working after three weeks. What were we thinking? We're returning it. Carol Wright Gifts says it gives refunds with no questions asked, but counting the cost to ship it back, well, it was not one of our best decisions. I should start facing my catalogs in a more positive direction--probably closer to the bathroom.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

CLOCKY: Genius or Demon?


I am not a morning person or a night person. I'm at my best from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m, which I think makes me a brunch person. If you have a tough time getting out of bed, morning becomes electric if you have CLOCKY, the alarm clock that runs away, forcing you to chase it down to shut it off.

You really must hear and see CLOCKY in action. Please turn up your speakers and watch this brief video. (If you have trouble viewing, go to YouTube and search for CLOCKY.)



You can click right here on Amazon to get a CLOCKY for $34.95. According to reviews, people who collect clocks and timepieces love it. But just in case, I would send your recipient an additional gift such as the one pictured on the left, which you can purchase from Wright Tools-a Made In America company. CLOCKY might be perfect for you or someone who needs a kick in the a.m. But if I had to wake up to CLOCKY, I would want to smash it to smithereens. Then again, smithereen smashing gets your adrenaline going, too.

Readers, what is the most ridiculous gadget you have ever been given or seen? Please share in the Comments section!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Not Easy Buying Green

Not only isn't it easy, it's expensive to be green. Although my husband insists dirt is dirt, true gardeners know this isn't so. You need compost--rich stuff full of decaying matter and earthworms and earthworm poop to make your garden grow. My green friends have discreet kitchen compost pails on their granite counter tops. To these they add their banana peels, egg shells, coffee grinds, and other food scraps. When it's full they dump that into the big Kahuna composter outside. It gets heated, turned, worms appear and eventually, you have transformed your leftovers into compost that makes your soil more fertile than OctoMom.
Worms are the creative core of compost. I have tried everything to attract them to my garden. Just like my dog knows I am not the alpha, worms know I am not a natural born greenie. Remember how the Tribbles went nuts when they got close to a Klingon? That's what happens when worms get near me. I have tried buying boxes of them, digging holes and covering them up, but they always worm out of it. Sometimes I think I can even hear them laughing as they tunnel to the neighbor's verdant plot; little teeny worm snorts. Living in a townhouse gives no room for an outside contraption. So I resort to buying bags of compost from Home Depot.

Tonight in my Gardener's Supply Company catalog, I saw the ANSWER: an Electric Composter that makes the goods for you. Just throw in the scraps. It does it all: the heating, the turning. No odor. You can even keep it inside. $349. If I can't afford it (and I certainly can't), I always think it's great. Then I went to the website and looked up the customer feedback. Not good. 4 of 5 reviews basically said that the electric composter stinks--in all senses of the word.

This is the yin and yang of shopping online. You can get honest reviews, but sometimes they are dream-killers. I mean, look at that photo. So seductive. I instantly saw myself simply scraping my dinner plates into this petite poop-producing powerhouse. By dessert I would have an endless supply of black garden gold.

Alas, if it looks too good to be true, it probably is. This old saying rang in my ears as I re-read the harsh reviews from the suckers people who had actually bought this mechanical marvel. Once again proverbial wisdom and a little research saved me from buying or recommending something stupid.

However, all is not lost. My Wireless Catalog arrived, and it has the perfect gift for wanna-be greenies like me: a nifty reusable grocery bag for only $12.95. Made of 80% recycled plastic bottles, this literally green bag is decorated with a pastoral scene. But like the best of the Wireless items, it also puts you in your place with humor. It is imprinted with a large flow chart that says: BUY REUSABLE BAG...Pat yourself on the back for your good intentions...FORGET REUSABLE BAG IN CAR...REPEAT...Tomorrow's another day to save the planet.

Then as I was about to publish this post, I made the dire mistake of watching the news. Obama's on his way to Asia, the country is hemmoraging jobs, etcetera. I went back and did more research. I discovered that there are several websites that direct you to companies whose products are made in America. Wow. Could I get credit for a double mitzvah (good deed) by promoting American employment and doing a small thing to save the planet?


What do you know? I did find a company that makes reusuable bags here. It's called SexyOldBag.com. They make bags (in two sizes) out of stretchy material that expands to fits tons of groceries and stuff. And they are washable! The bags are $3.99 and $4.99. Shipping is $4.95 for 1-4 bags. One "sexy" testamonial said a jumbo bag could fit an entire 24-pack of mega rolls of toilet paper plus more while still allowing you to hold the handles together.Take that, you flat-bottomed, non-expandable, made-in-China bags! Yeah, there is irony in cutting down trees for Charmin while trying to save them with reusable bags, but irony is us.

This sets up a new Diva poll. Should I try to find more American made items to include in my picks and pans?

You vote while I go look for the laughing worms.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Don't Aaargue with Pirates Who Give Directions!


Fake flowers on top of antennas used to work. But when car antennas disappeared, so did sensible low-tech solutions to a common problem: how to find your car in a parking lot. This dilemma is exacerbated by being over age fifty forty and by the fact that every damn car is taupe. Who came up with that color for cars? If your car is taupe, it has a permanent cloaking device. The color forecasters probably got together with the GPS geeks to devise a parking lot hell in which we all walk like zombies, dazed and confused. How to escape? Of course, we need to buy something. I think that's what GPS stands for: "Go Purchase Something." Something that would fit on a keychain. Something with a chip. Something like the pictured Bushnell Homing Device. It's available in lots of catalogs and even at Target. This gizmo helps you find your way back with an "easy-to-read arrow." No clicking your heels necessary.

Yes, GPS really stands for Global Positioning Satellite, and these gadgets somehow lock onto satellite signals that know where you are and where you've been and tell you how to get where you're going. Our kids gave my husband a "Tom-Tom" GPS for his car. We did have fun when he programmed it with a Pirate Voice, which told him to turn "starboard" or "head to port, Matey!" But eventually I began to arrrrgue with the pirate. My spouse soon unplugged the GPS, although I know he would have preferred to unplug me.

The Bushnell Homing Device sounds slick, but to me, anything with the word "compass" in its directions is terrifying. I simply pick out a landmark I can easily remember and park near that. Starbucks, for example. There has got to be at least one of those nearby. My internal GPSS, as in "Go Purchase Something Sweet," always directs me. Mocha Frappuccino Light in summer; Gingerbread Latte in winter. Ah, sit in my taupe car and savor the sugar.

I confess, however, that it is demoralizing when you can't find your car. This summer the Von's checkout guy was helping me with my cart. Here was this teenager following me, and I couldn't find the car. After about 20 minutes of circling the aisles and stammering with embarrassment, I finally located my taupe Camry, parked next to several other taupe Camrys. The kid took pity on me and said, "Don't feel bad, lady. Yesterday I walked a woman around for a lot longer. Then she remembered she didn't drive here at all. She walked." Do I need the personal homing device so I won't become that lady?

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Genealogy Kits & Slankets

Time to slip into my Slanket: the blanket with sleeves that is so easy to make fun of...but you know you want one, don't you? For tonight my Hammacher Schlemmer Catalog has arrived! Now I can take a trip to Hammacher Schlemmer World. There I can turn on my $5,000 iTunes Jukebox and sip my Blackberry Kiwi Arbor Mist from a Breathable Wine Glass. (Set of Six, $149.99) Unlike traditional decanting methods that require up to 2 hours to let wine breathe, these 100% lead-free crystal glasses undergo a proprietary process that allows oxygen to pass through and aerate wine in as little as two minutes. The Schlemmers are no schlemiels when it comes to the good life.

But the item that most intrigues me this year is The Canine Genealogy Kit. For $59.99 the kit analyzes your dog's DNA and identifies the breeds of its ancestry. All you have to do is rub the enclosed cotton swab on the inside of your dog's cheek and send it back in the provided envelope. The lab sends you back a genetic profile of your dog. You get a certificate listing your dog's ancestry with a detailed explanation of each breed's dominant characteristics that likely have been passed on to your pooch. Is this great, or what? Yes, this is the perfect gift for a person who loves a mutt.

It also begs the question: why can't they have a kit like this for humans? Why can't you just swab your prospective mate's cheek and get a detailed analysis? Wouldn't you want to know if your beloved might inherit his Uncle Stephan's hirsute back and even worse: his habit of lifting up his shirt and asking young women to scratch that hairy thing at every opportunity? What if you knew your girlfriend could inherit her Aunt Elsa's inexplicable propensity for clicking her toenails in bed?

There are human DNA genealogy kits already on the market. But they only tell you possible races, tribes, geographical info. They are not refined enough to tell you what you really need to know: i.e., if a future spouse may eventually exhibit the behavior of that cousin on his father's side--the one who invites everyone out to dinner, then takes out his calculator to split the check, asking probing questions like, "Who had the extra Diet Coke? Didn't you know the Prime Rib wasn't on the Early Bird?"

Such empirical evidence could have serious quality of life implications. Furthermore, this could open a whole new field of genetic personality counseling. And God knows we need more jobs for grads who majored in psychology. With Human Personality DNA kits, perhaps we could approach something that the folks at Hammacher Schlemmer offer on every product: a Lifetime Guarantee of Complete Satisfaction!

I have no doubts that we will eventually see these "Ancestral Personality Trait" DNA kits. If science and fashion can join forces to invent a blanket with sleeves, anything is possible.

You know you want it. I won't tell anyone. Click here and get your SLANKET at Amazon!


Monday, November 2, 2009

Me an Einstein? Just Kidding!

I am really, really sorry about the Einstein thing. In one of my first posts I claimed that I married an Einstein (with photo evidence). For years I hoped fantasized about the royalties that go to the Einstein Trust at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. But wouldn't you know it? I stake my claim, and Disney announces it's giving refunds to parents who bought Baby Einstein DVD's! People thought sitting their babies in front of the DVD's would make them geniuses, and this may not be true. As Goofy would say, "Garwsh!" A parent watchdog group lawyered up and got their class action suits in a bunch. Disney caved. Or maybe they figured that not that many parents who sit their infants in front of the TV are likely to be conscientious enough to repack DVD's and send them back for refunds.

But you can't blame parents for thinking their kids are smarter sooner. Have you seen the "4-D sonogram" photos of babies still in the womb? Saturday night a woman showed us one of her expected grandchild. She had the amazingly detailed pic on her iPhone. My smart aleck husband stared and asked, "How did you manage to get the phone up there?" She didn't laugh. But I did. Which is why we stay married. When we found out we were having twins in the early 80's, our black and white sonogram snapshot looked like a negative of two eggs over easy or the Shroud of Turin. Ah, but technology marches ahead! If we can get instant gratification, why can't our babies get instant illumination?

Don't blame me about the Baby Einstein kerfuffle. My kids warned me. They said all along that if they had Einstein genes, they should have scored higher on their college boards. What did happen to the Einstein genes? I found the answer on YouTube. (Is there anything you can't find there?) Click on this link: Talking Parrot Einstein. It doesn't take a genius to see what happened. The genes crossed species like the bird flu. If the link doesn't work, just search YouTube with the words "Talking Parrot Einstein."

Diva Updates
The plug-in coffee mug from Carol Wright Gifts came and so far works great. My husband arrives at work with hot coffee after a half-hour commute. I also recommended the Absorbent Soap Dish from the Vermont Country Store. This soap dish is made out of some sort of pumice stone and really works. No more gooey soap, and the bar lasts forever! I swear on my Diva domain. Unfortunately I discovered that the VCS only has one color left and seems to be discontinuing the item. But I found an online catalog that has it in lots of colors and cheaper. For the Absorbent Soap Dish, go to The Discount Cupboard.

For refunds on Baby Einstein, don't look at me. When my kids were babies, I read them one book over and over. I think it is one of the best kid's book ever written: The Monster At The End of This Book. This book made my kids what they are today: perfectly good enough for me!

Meanwhile, if any women want to discuss a class action suit on the "someday my prince will come" thing, let's talk.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Perseverance, Inc.


If you can't laugh at yourself, you miss out on the best jokes in life. This is another one of my sayings that my kids are sick of hearing. But if you're reading it for the first time, maybe you won't roll your eyes. At least I can't see you roll them. Sometimes when the joke's on us, it hurts, too. Case in point: this t-shirt I found online. Here I am starting a blog, hoping to find zillions of readers. But the truth is closer to what it says on this shirt: MORE PEOPLE HAVE READ THIS SHIRT THAN YOUR BLOG. The "hit" counter under the words reads 00002. Ouch! But it's so funny, I might even buy the shirt! (Maybe I'll custom print thecatalogdiva on the back.) More about where I found this shirt later.

We teeter constantly on the cliff of joy and sorrow; fortune and misfortune. I try to lean towards the sunny side so that when the winds of fate blow, they might push me in that direction. Americans are taught to be optimistic. We learn early. In school teachers stamp smiley faces next to an "F" on a math test. They don't want to discourage us, even if we are not the Einsteins the DVD's promised we'd be. Whole industries have arisen to sell us inspiring and uplifting messages.

Accessories.com is one of the many catalogs that feature gizmos with encouraging messages. If I had a million dollars and needed another desk ornament, I would pick their shiny black Desktop Talker which speaks to you every day. It holds recordings of 365 "inspiring quotes...one for each day of the year." They include words from Abraham Lincoln, Helen Keller, Thomas Jefferson, Martin Luther King. Jr. and more. (I assume the celebrity voices are impersonated.)

Ah, but for a change of pace and a real howl, go to Despair.com or Despair, Inc. That's where I found the blog shirt above. You know those motivational posters with a big key word illustrated with breathtaking photos of people climbing mountains or soaring birds? This company takes that concept and turns it upside down. They call their products "demotivators." Here is a sample poster. One lone car heads straight into the awesome fury of a ginormous funnel cloud. Perseverance: The courage to ignore the obvious wisdom of turning back.



This one had me wetting my pants. Okay, I do that when I sneeze, but this was because I was hysterical. Notice the men running in front of the bulls at Pamplona. Tradition: Just because you've always done it that way doesn't mean it's not incredibly stupid.

Despair.com's tag line says that their products are designed for "the person who has everything but still isn't very happy about it." You can get hilarious graphics and blurbs on shirts, mugs, little desktop frames, big posters, and my personal favorite: a calendar that you can customize, choosing the posters you want for each month. You can even add your own remarks for special dates. Yeah, I bought one. (So those of you who voted in my last poll might want to vote again and up your estimate of what I am going to spend.) Most of all, please keep sending my blog to friends and family so more people will read my blog than read the t-shirt!

Monday, October 26, 2009

Catalogs Anonymous

So here I stand (sit, actually). I have confessed to my somewhat addictive behavior of browsing through catalogs. I had hoped that by writing about the stuff instead of buying it, I could be redeemed from the sin of excessive consumerism. Herein lies the rub. It is difficult for me to gaze upon this endless parade of goodies and not buy. Like any addict, I slip. I need a 12-step program for catalogaholics! This blog is meant to push me to write philosophical and/or witty musings inspired by the products; not to plug (or unplug) the products. But I guess that's like writing about love when you've never been kissed.

Last week I bought something from Carol Wright Gifts because, well, even my skeptical and frugal husband said, "Hey, that would be great for my ride to school!" I wish I could tell you that the fact that we agree on decaf has kept our marriage together, but all I can say with honesty is that it looks like a great gadget: a stainless steel car mug that plugs into the car cigarette lighter to keep your drink hot while your drive. $5.99! Will it work for more than a day, a week, a month or even last a year? If anybody asked you that when you got married, you wouldn't buy into that either. The mug hasn't arrived yet, but I'll let you know when it does and if it works.

Last year I bought an Absorbent Soap Dish from the Vermont Country Store. This soap dish "absorbs excess moisture and soap residue so the soap remains clean, dry, and lasts longer. No more gooey bars of soap." And guess what? It works! I am a bar soap person, but surely I could live with some gooey-ness in my life. Nevertheless I bought it for $7.99, and I mention it so you have some idea of the depth of my "catalog problem."

The question is this: do you think I will be able to write this blog without going broke? Being optimistic, let's say I am still writing several times a week for six months. In that much time, how much money do you think I will spend? I include a poll to check your opinions. My intention is to spend less than zero, but signs are not good. That's what it says on the Magic Eight Ball, which is available in several catalogs featuring classic toys...

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Catalogs That Give Away Your Age

Nothing makes you feel older than other people's children. This is one of my favorite sayings, because it's true and because I'm the one who said it. I have a friend who had a precocious three-year-old the last time we got together. This week she emailed me to tell me her kid is now a proctologist. All I could do was picture a tow-headed toddler sticking a finger up someone's rear. He couldn't possibly be that old. When did that happen? And how old does that make me? Sure my kids grew up, but that was a day by day process. They didn't hatch into adults in one email. It's unnerving.

Sometimes catalogs make me feel old, too. Lately I pause way too long looking at certain items I never noticed before. Not only did I not notice them previously; I didn't even know what they were! For example, The Vermont Country Store is one of my all time faves. It is a virtual shrine to nostalgia. I can relive my whole life through its pages. But yesterday my latest issue of VCS came, and I stopped to linger on Page 51: a section called "Discreet Solutions for Private Problems." Among the items were two FDA-approved screening kits. These $24.95 kits are for early screening of colorectal cancer and urinary tract infections. I guess that's the game of life. Move right past ovulation and pregnancy kits, pass GO, and collect poop samples.

Also featured in this section was the HealthStep, a toilet foot stool (no pun intended; well, it wasn't intended, but it is good, isn't it?) that will "align the digestive tract for easier, more complete elimination of waste." The copy claims that squatting is the best position for the human body to completely eliminate all waste. To make this preferred position possible, the HealthStep fits under your feet to allow "...a thorough evacuation of waste, helping prevent such common conditions as hemorrhoids, bladder incontinence, constipation, diverticulitus, and IBS." The HealthStep "fits neatly around the base of the toilet when not in use." For $72.95, it is (and it oughta be at that price) a "durable" plastic doo-dad. (No pun intended. But it's still pretty good, isn't it?) At least it took me about ten minutes to figure out what IBS stood for.

I'm not buying any of this, but I did loiter too long on this page. Furthermore, I turned down the corner of the page to keep the place--just in case someday my friend's toddler, the proctologist, recommends these items. I'll know just where to find them.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Halloween for Big People


Years ago it was strictly for kids, but in recent years Halloween has expanded into adult territory. Although the economy will scare off some people, it is still estimated that 47 million adults plan to dress up this year.

I have never felt comfortable about this grown-up costume thing. And carving pumpkins is such a mess. One year when the kids were little, I was struck by a diabolical alternative to carving a smiling jack-o-lantern. I took the pumpkin and stabbed it with a large carving knife which I left sticking out of the side. Then I added gooey fake blood dripping down. Hah! Take that, you treat-or-treaters! A few hours later an adorable three-year-old  dressed as a glittering Tinker Bell came to the door and stood there, staring at the mortally wounded pumpkin. After a few moments, she clenched her mother's hand, looked up at me with moist wide eyes and said, "You killed it." Ohmygod. I was the Halloween Grinch.

I wish adult Halloween costumes had been more popular when I was younger and thinner. I might have liked the sexy buccaneer thing. But Halloween switches my brain's SUGAR button to high power. It starts with the mini Mr. Goodbars on October 31 and doesn't stop till I polish off an entire egg nog cake on New Year's Eve. Not surprisingly, each year, like many Americans, my weight goes up.

This brings me to a scary thought about this Halloween. I rank it about a 5 on my scary scale. A 10 would be the end of the 1958 movie The Fly--when Vincent Price hears a high-pitched sound and turns to see a fly trapped in a spider's web. The fly has David Hedison's tiny head screaming, "Helllp me!" What could be that trippy? Well, it may not be that scary, but it is strange that Halloween is now a big thing for big people in more ways than one. This year catalogs offer a full range of PLUS SIZE HALLOWEEN COSTUMES. Lions and tigers and bears in plus sizes--oh, my!

I was sorely tempted by the large size poodle skirt outfit for only $19.95 at purecostumes.com. I think my sister still has her original poodle skirt from 1954. The waist would now fit around her wrist. She is saving it for the time she fits into it again. The plus size Elvis makes some sense, since he was a plus size at the end!

I do need something, because we are going to a Halloween party this year. So I went to Big Lots and purchased t-shirts for me and my husband, $5 each. One says, "This is my Halloween costume" and the other: "I'm haunted by the voices in my head." Yep. Both in extra large.

I'm not saying there is anything morally wrong about being  fat, er, chunky. The trend is alarming, though, and I hate to admit that I am part of it. I hope we don't see too many children's plus size costumes, although we probably will. Since I am a "petite" plus, I am thinking next year (if I don't lose that 25 pounds) I could go as a "Jumbo Shrimp." If you are pudgy and still want to be in vogue for Halloween, by all means, don't be afraid. Get a plus size costume, have fun...and maybe I'll see you at Weight Watchers on January 2.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

PEZ for Pooches

I never had a dog that ate my homework, because I never had a dog till I was 40. When my boys were eight, I went to a shelter and fell in love with what appeared to be a miniature sheep dog with curly gray and black hair hanging to the floor. In this "no-kill" shelter with over 200 dogs, he was the only calm and quiet one. The others were barking at me as if I were the UPS guy. (What do they expect when they have trucks and uniforms the color of steak?) But "Barney," as his name card said, was silent. He slipped his tongue through the cage and licked my face. Sold! I plopped down my $100. The volunteers, who were the real shaggy dogs of the place, said he would be bathed and beautiful by the next day.

When I returned, Barney the Sheep Dog was gone. He had morphed into a mottled, bald, alien creature. The hair had been too matted, they told me, and thus the clean shave. Don't worry, they said. It will grow back. Poodle hair always does. Poodle? I picked a poodle? I wanted a little "Benji" mix, and I got a poodle? Too late now. Eventually, the hair did grow back, and Barney proved the perfect blend of poodle and something else. Turned out the something else was a Schnauzer, which officially made him a "Schnoodle." Barney Schnoodle was a great dog. He loved the kids and would play basketball with them, bouncing the ball off his nose.

The only trouble was his appetite. He never ate homework, but he ate anything else. I tried to brush his teeth and left the toothpaste tube too close to the edge of the counter. Later that night Barney consumed the entire 10-ounce tube of Petrodex, which at the time came in a metal tube. The vet said the metal should have killed him, but it didn't. Another day we came home, and it looked as if there had been a blizzard inside the house. We walked through a six-inch high layer of "fluff" until we located the source of the storm: Barney had eaten the sofa.

Nevertheless, we loved him unconditionally and cried inconsolably when he died at age 12. By then the boys were off to college. Like a widow who immediately wants to close up the hole in her heart, I sat up calling the shelters and trolling the Internet, looking for another "Schnoodle." To my dismay, Schnoodles had become a highly desirable "designer" mixed breed and were selling for two to four thousand schnoodleroonies! Eventually, we did adopt another dog. This was a blind Scottie mix that we literally scooped off the trolley at the pound on her way to the "goodbye room." We called her DD (DeDe) for Dead Dog Walking.

Obviously, if I can't resist a blind dog, I can't resist dog product catalogs. Again, I almost never buy. (Okay, I do have a doggie "stroller" in my garage. I bought it but was too embarrassed to use it. If you're interested, let me know. Pay the shipping and it's yours.) When you peruse pet product catalogs, you quickly realize that 99% of the items are for people. Why buy a heated velour monogrammed deluxe bed for a pooch that prefers napping on a pile of dirty underwear? Yes, you should be a responsible pet owner and keep your pet healthy, clean and safe, but let's face it: your dog doesn't care if his treats look like peppermint candy brittle, Wolfgang Puck pizzas or Hannukah gelt.

Speaking of pet treats, this catalog is always a treat for me: DOCTORS FOSTER and SMITH QUALITY PRODUCTS FOR DOGS & CATS. It's as much fun as a barrel of Schnoodles. There are many practical things: electric fences, crates, collars, pet doors, and so on. But here's the one that caught my fancy, on Page 6: PEZ for your Pooch. That's right. It holds 6 bone-shaped treats and is touted as a "fun, nostalgic way to reward your dog." Since Dog Whisperer and guru Cesar Milan insists that dogs live only in the present moment, I am not sure they get the nostalgia angle. But you do. And if PEZ pet treats keep your dog from devouring your sofa, that's a good thing.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Dinner Games with Toddlers

Ah, dining out with toddlers. I remember it well. I had twin boys, so this was always risky business. In the 80's we were lucky if the waitress gave us placemats to color and slapped down a cup of used crayons. If they had grilled cheese sandwiches on the menu, we were golden. Then an agent of the devil invented Chuck E. Cheese. I am certain someday they will have a study linking visits to Chuck E. Cheese to eventual deafness, dementia, or erectile dysfunction. Hopefully the latter, for that will certainly pull the plug once and for all. And for the generation raised on Chuck E. there is now an adult version, Dave and Buster's. I suppose the primal need for entertainment while eating dates back to the invention of TV dinners in the 50's. Blame it on Swanson.

Theoretically, when you go to a "kid-friendly" place, you don't have to worry about icy stares from people when your children start acting like, well, children. But if you want to take them to a place where you can order arugula and butternut squash with ahi on the side, you had better be prepared. You can bring portable DVD players, iPods and hand-held computer games, but those are not in the spirit of "family dining." And certainly you have read that the family that eats together has smarter kids. You don't want your child's college essay to read that he/she grew up in a home with emotionally absent parents, as exempfied by their dependence on digital diversions rather than face-to-face conversation.

That brings me to today's catalog pick, Beginner Dinner Games for Ages 3 and up, which I found in Young Explorers, page 30E. "Play with Your Family...Not with your food!" For only $18.95 (plus shipping and tax) you are promised a box of cards containing over 50 games that "...encourage quality time spent talking and interacting. Short and easy-to-play games like, Pass the Pepper, Get to Know Ya Trivia and so much more..." It comes with a tin carrying box "perfect for toting to restaurants." I like the concept a lot. If you have kids (and there is another version for ages 5 and up) maybe you can try it out and let me know how it works. When I think of family "get to know ya" trivia, I can't help but jump to gems like, "Which uncle always smells like Manischevitz Concord Grape?" or "Which grandma's teeth flew into the cranberry sauce last Thanksgiving?" or "Which cousin always goes to the bathroom when the check arrives?" But that would be a do-it-yourself family trivia game. Maybe they can throw in some extra cards for those.

This Dinner Games Box sounds as if it should keep the kidlets involved and out of trouble. I am by nature an optimist, but my experience makes me skeptical. I am haunted by bad memories, such as the time I took my five-year-old twins on a cross-country flight to visit my sister in Baltimore. I was an educational writer, so I was PREPARED. I had brought a 50-pound backback full of Mad Libs, Transformers, He-Man action figures, coloring books, paint-with-water books, dot-to-dot books, Scratch and Sniff stickers, magnetic checkers...you get the picture. My boys went through the entire contents in about six minutes. For the rest of the flight, they kept pressing the flight attendant button and going to the bathroom every 15 minutes. I had to smile and try to keep the flight attendants from killing my kids by sticking them with those little "aviator pins." (Do they give those out anymore? Probably not.) They also brought lots of peanuts, probably hoping the boys had an undetected nut allergy.

But what I recall most from this flight was a little girl sitting in the row across from us. She was about six. Her father was sitting next to her, and he didn't have a backback. "He didn't even bring her a coloring book," I thought smugly when the flight began. But did you ever hear a peep out of her? No. She spent the five-hour trip reading and re-reading the safety information card.


So let me know if the Dinner Games work for you. Personally, when I was a kid my relatives had low-tech tricks that kept me mesmerized. Do you know how to slide your thumb so it looks like it was just amputated? Can you take a cloth napkin and fold it into a bra? If the box of Dinner Games don't work, you can try these. Or just stay home with grilled cheese sandwiches.