everything starts somewhere

Meredith's question:
What Five things that are such an integral part of your life, you can't believe someone else introduced them to you.

And, so, my first dip into the Friday Five pool is more like a plunge. I'm not sure that any of these things are an "integral" part of my life, but they are certainly a large part of it"

1) Martha Stewart Living, the magazine, introduced to me by Karen, my fellow Central Market gift basketeer. I know--to look at, I seem like one of the last people to jump on Ms Stewart's tastefully decorated bandwagon, given that I've already settled into my fall uniform of jeans, a flannel shirt, and some kind of comfortable shoe. But my first glances through the magazine, which Karen had left lying about our hotel room during a flea market binge in Memphis, were like being smacked on the forehead by her signature line of high-thread count cotton pillowcases. Suddenly, I understood why people cared so much about how their homes looked, how that translated into how their homes felt and operated, and why that was important. Now, a couple of years out, I get some deep satisfaction from finding just the right shade of pumpkin for the new dining room's walls. I love the show, too, but there's just something about falling into the magazine each month that is more powerful that watching it on tv.

2) A Marge Piercy poem left on my desk by one Rick Baldwin, no relation to the famous Baldwin brothers. Rick read a piece I'd written while at the Pulse, where he was, at the time, a designer, and thought of this poem, which he'd first picked up after it made an appearance on The Writer's Almanac. I've now moved that photocopied piece of paper that was left on my work computer one night with me to New York, even though I have the poem memorized. It's the last line that gets me every damn time.

3) Baby Gap, introduced to me by Steph, who took me shopping for baby togs one day when the niblet was at her most wee. See comment above about my lack of sartorial splendor. But I truly, madly and deeply enjoy buying baby clothes, especially pricey baby clothes. I can't explain this.

4) Not such much a thing but still in the same spirit--tennis, which I picked up because of a certain webmonkey. It's something I'd toyed with since high school but the sheer number of folks who played in the Pulse office made me want to get serious about it. It was the monkey who handed me a pamphlet from the local tennis center that listed all of their cheap classes. Now, I'm hooked.

5) Several dozen phrases (again, not things, but in the same spirit) that I've stolen from other people. "It's a strong choice," from Robi Polgar who lifted it from a UT directing prof. "Howling fantods," from David Foster Wallace. "Oh no" (you really have to hear the inflection on this to get the full effect), from Pheobe Buffet by way of Knoxville Robby. I could go on...and that's slowly making me wonder if there's anything truly original that I say.

Also playing: Will, Gord, Dave, Colleen, Adam, Chris, Craig, Melissa and Gina

Comments

[Melissa]

That Marge Piercy poem is wonderful - thanks for introducing it to me. . . .

[Adrienne]

De nada. Really, Rick should be thanked. I've just been carrying it around for a year. I do, someday, want to give something the title "Phlogiston After the Fact of Fire." Yeah, I know only two or three people would get it--but the ones who did would be richly rewarded.