A Little Schmaltz Never Hurt Anyone

Now that it's become all the rage to dismiss greeting cards as passe and declare certain holidays like Valentine's Day and Mother's Day "Hallmark Holidays," I think it's time someone stand up in defense of the greeting card tradition, if not the overreaching greeting card industry. Ok, ok, I'll do it.



Two favorites from my birthday this year.



With a smidgen of shame, I will confess that I can spend an absurd amount of time in a card store. Always could. I read, I laugh, I cry, I finger the pretty paper or marvel at the pop-ups. The addition of sound was a delight. I like the idea of finding "just the right card" and imagining the kick the lucky recipient will get out of it. In the same vein, I love receiving "just the right card" and have held onto many over the years that have touched a chord with me. I think part of the fun comes from being a word oriented person and part from having a thing about anything that smacks of stationary (it's hard to tear myself away from a decent office supply store, too). My Irish twin sister has the same propensities and because of this, we can quote past cards to each other and will often buy more than one card for each other for the same occasion because we just can't choose. I have "card friends" for whom the right card is essential and non-card friends who couldn't care less.

A doctored up card--sad.

Funny cards, cards that are snarky, ones with first-rate cartooning, funny photos from the past--those are often the best. Animal shots can be good, too, but are often ruined by the words. And sometimes the sentimental ones are so on target it's uncanny. That being said, I will admit that in recent years, it has been more difficult to find truly funny or dead on sentimental cards. If I find a particularly good one, I might get several to send to different people. Yesterday, I searched in vain for the perfect card for the boy's 14th birthday (TODAY). It was grim. I wanted a joint one from the Mayor and me. There were three choices--two were religious, one was stilted and artificial. So I had to resort to pluralizing a mediocre card intended for one parent to give. Very disappointing. A friend's mother was turning 80 a few months ago and the pickings were also slim (although there were two 90 year old cards on hand and even a 100).

The very worst thing about cards today is the price. It jars me to turn over a small piece of what is essentially thick paper with a few words printed on it and see that it costs $3, $4 or even $5. It's not right. I'll pay it, if it is perfect for the occasion or the person for whom I am intending it. But if I nose around for a half-hour and still have to settle, I will go to the cheapos that say essentially nothing, but don't break the bank. And that is a sorry state of affairs.

It is fair to say that grandparent's day, boss's day, secretary's day and various other johnny-come-latelies to the holiday scene are occasions invented and ginned up by the card and gift industry. But Valentine's Day has been celebrated for centuries in some form or another and who can argue with the sense and appropriateness of Mother's and Father's Days. Nothing against grandparents, bosses or secretaries, but their "days" are not the same. People are right to view them with a somewhat cynical eye, but maligning greeting cards as a whole because of the manipulativeness of the industry is a bit of the tossing of the baby with the bathwater.

Homemade cards--I treasure them all.

More recent favorites.

Look! Up in the Sky!

The noble house finch

One of the more life-affirming interests I have taken up in my quest to actually get a life, is birding--the pastime previously known as birdwatching. When I long ago closed the mental books on birds, sometime around 1974, I could positively identify sparrows, blue jays, cardinals, sea gulls, ducks and pigeons with no more specificity than that. My father taught us what we knew when we were kids, but I seldom gave wild birds a thought as an adult, except to note their occasional contributions to my windshield. And for most of my life that was enough. Then one day as the boy and I were walking at a local park, an enormous bird whizzed by us (not on us, thanks goodness) at eye level.  Its round, golden eye seemed to look directly into mine as its wings, spanning about 6 feet, flapped and fluttered my hair as it passed. 'What the hell was that,' I thought. And moreover, I wondered how I can live so close to such a magnificent animal and not even know what it is. It was a bird awakening.

Turns out that spectacular bird was a Great Blue Heron. And because of Mr. Great Blue, I signed up for an introductory birding class. I demanded a decent pair of binoculars for Mother's Day. I bought books, started a journal and set up a birdie smorgasbord in my backyard so that I didn't have to trek out to a local park alone at dawn after my class ended. (Sometimes I still go, but it is scary to be the only person in the park, so I only go when I have a birding buddy, ie. almost never.)



My photo of an oriole on my deck.



Now amazing birds that I have managed never to notice before appear to be responding to my new interest in their lives. Could it possibly be that the nuthatches, goldfinches, chickadees, woodpeckers and orioles always stopped by my yard in the spring? If so, how could I have overlooked them. It is like that weird phenomenon where you learn a new word and suddenly you read and hear it everywhere. It seems it is just a matter of tuning in to their existance and the whole aviary world opens up to you. Now if I walk outside and hear a lot of squawking jays and screaming squirrels, I know to look around for that hawk that occasionally circles the neighborhood. When I feed the birds, I have to remember to spread some seeds on the ground for the mourning doves that can't use the feeders. In the winter, I keep an eye peeled for the dark-eyed juncos that seem to magically appear with the first snow. It came as a surprise to me that the brown-headed cowbird is notorious for laying its eggs in the nests of other birds so that others can go to the trouble of raising their young. Knowing these things delights me and makes me feel more connected to the natural world.

With birds, there is quite a bit to learn. For example I was only vaguely aware that many birds will look different in the spring from the way they look in the fall. Juvenile birds might not really resemble the adults of their species for a long time. So with any species of bird, you have the male, the female, the seasonal plumages and the age to take into consideration before making a determination of what bird has stopped by. The American Birding Association's list of North American birds includes 930 species. What with the various looks, behaviors and calls to take in, birding is a hobby that can keep you going for a long time.

The undesirable brown-headed cowbird stares at me from my fence.



Personally, I do not plan to become an expert. I don't want to get neurotic about this. It is enough for me to keep my journal, photograph the birds that come to the feeders and look for unusual birds when I'm out and when I'm on vacation. I can't wait to go on my next trip to the Caribbean or somewhere closer to the equator. I've already alerted the Mayor and the boy to the fact that my camera is no longer sufficient for taking photos of birds and have suggested that an upgrade would make an ideal Mother's Day gift this year.

I don't know if you can experience a bird awakening second hand, but I hope it is possible. It would make me happy to share this particular delight with others. To get you in the mood and see if it might possily take hold, I've included a link to the Eagle Cam at Duke Farm in Hillsborough, NJ. Click every day to observe a pair of eagles incubate, hatch and raise their eaglets in real time from now until they fledge in June. Happy Birding!

http://www.dukefarms.org/Education/Eagle-Cam/