FeeFiFoto Blog

May I Share With You Some May Holidays?

Make personalized calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates; here are some for May.

FeeFiFoto has been producing personalized photo calendars as a core part of our business since we were established about five years ago.  Recently we added a bunch of new templates, a thousand or so pieces of clip art, and the capacity to arrange photos in collages instead of being limited to a single photo per page.  We've always had a feature that lets you enter your own family birthdays, anniversaries or special events.

Here, for your listening reading pleasure, is a list of May dates that will make your personalized calendars just a touch more ridiculous interesting.

1

Mother Goose Day
Save The Rhino Day

Kate Smith, b. 1909

2

Fire Day
Dr. Benjamin Spock, b. 1903
Baron Von Richthofen, b. 1892

3

Bing Crosby, b. 1907
Lumpy Rutherford Rug Day

 

4

National Candied Orange Peel Day
Audrey Hepburn, b. 1929

5

National Hoagie Day 
Karl Marx, b. 1818

6

Beverage Day
Sigmund Freud, b. 1856

7

International Tuba Day
Paste Up Day
National Roast Leg of Lamb Day
Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, b. 1840

8

No Socks Day
Have A Coke Day

How does this differ from Beverage Day?

9

Lost Sock Memorial Day 

10

Clean Up Your Room Day
Fred Astaire, b. 1899

11 

Eat What You Want Day
Twilight Zone Day
Salvador Dali, b. 1904
Irving Berlin, b. 1888

12 

Limerick Day 
Katharine Hepburn, b. 1907

13 

Leprechaun Day
Joe Louis, b. 1914
Bea Arthur, b. 1923

14 

National Dance Like A Chicken Day 

15 

National Chocolate Chip Day 

16

Wear Purple For Peace Day
Liberace, b. 1919

Is there some connection here? 

17

Pack Rat Day

No, not Rat Pack -- Pack Rat!

18 

International Museum Day
Visit Your Relatives Day
Frank Capra, b. 1897

19

Frog Jumping Jubilee Day 
Malcolm X, b. 1925

20 

Eliza Doolittle Day 
Jimmy Stewart, b. 1908

21 

National Memo Day
National Waitresses/Waiters Day
Fats Waller, b. 1904

22 

Buy-A-Musical-Instrument Day
Richard Wagner, b. 1813

You can't play Wagner without musical instruments

23 

Rosemary Clooney, b. 1928
Penny Day

Because that's all you'll have left after spending a few grand on a piano 

24 

National Escargot Day 

25 

National Tap Dance Day
Ralph Waldo Emerson, b. 1803

26 

Grey Day
John Wayne, b. 1907
Jay Silverheels, b. 1919

27 

Body Painting Arts Festival
Wild Bill Hickock, b. 1837
Vincent Price, b. 1911

28 

National Hamburger Day
Ian Fleming, b. 1908

29 

End Of The Middle Ages Day

How can they be so sure the Middle Ages ended exactly on May 29th?

30 

My Bucket's Got A Hole In It Day 

31 

National Macaroon Day
Walt Whitman, b. 1819

See more Strange Holidays.

Please visit Save The Rhino and save some rhinos.

Visit FeeFiFoto to design personalized photo calendars.

Make personalized calendars even more personal with the addition of peculiar dates; here are some for May.

FeeFiFoto has been producing personalized photo calendars as a core part of our business since we were established about five years ago.  Recently we added a bunch of new templates, a thousand or so pieces of clip art, and the capacity to arrange photos in collages instead of being limited to a single photo per page.  We've always had a feature that lets you enter your own family birthdays, anniversaries or special events.

Here, for your listening reading pleasure, is a list of May dates that will make your personalized calendars just a touch more ridiculous interesting.

What Would You Do On A Dare?

A couple of days before Halloween last year I offered Cupcake a dollar if she'd go up to a police officer having breakfast at the next table and say: "Hey, nice costume."  She did it.  He was amused.  I paid.

Another time I offered her a dollar if she'd ask a barista what was "free weefee."  She did it.  The barista was baffled.  I paid.

I offered Robespierre a dollar if he could name the one professional baseball team that's won the World Series based in three different cities.  He couldn't (it was the Braves).  I also offered to pay him if he could convince a waitress to spray whipped cream in his mouth instead of on his milkshake.  He couldn't because she couldn't (health department rules).  I didn't pay either time.

These Dollar Dares have become a cheap source of entertainment and a way for the kids to pick up a few bucks here and there.  I like to think it also helps them not to take themselves too seriously and not to be self conscious about making small talk.

Yesterday we had burgers at an old fashioned diner.  Robey put a dollar in the jukebox and chose a bunch of songs, one of which was "Thriller" (has anyone but me noticed that Michael Jackson has become a lot more popular and acceptable since keeling over?).

I offered them each five dollars if they'd go outside in the rain and do the Thriller dance in front of the plate glass window.

They did it.

You bet I paid.

Say No To The Dresses

Wanna know why I learned nothing in law school and was consequently an incompetent and fearful lawyer, which is why I now write this blog and drive a lot every day and run a web site instead of flaunting my brilliant lawyerliness?

Let's blame it on this dress:

Here

More precisely, let's blame it on the girl who wore something very similar to this dress.

She wore the lavender muumuu every other day for the entire second semester of my second year of law school.

Every. Other. Day.

It's a pleasant dress.  Soothing, looks comfortable, unpretentious.  Of course it's not exactly the kind of thing you'd expect a law student to wear.  Most of us favored rather somber, serious attire: dark suits, airline stewardess pumps, striped cotton shirts, fussy bow ties, and of course pantyhose, always with the pantyhose even though we were in New Orleans.

I'll just give you a moment to catch your breath while you imagine wearing pantyhose in New Orleans at any time of year.

The problem with the lavender muumuu was that it was hard to ignore.  A black suit or dress can be disguised with shoes, jackets, sweaters and accessories, but the lavender muumuu is the lavender muumuu every day of its life no matter what you do to it.  Unless she owned a closet full of lavender muumuus, this specific dress was her uniform two or three days each week for a solid semester.

Wanna know why the muumuu almost caused me to flunk out of law school?

Because she alternated it with this:

 

Here

This is a lovely dress: feminine, soft, also looks quite comfortable.  I wore a dress very much like this one to a college formal once; I might even have a picture of myself wearing it.

But this dress was also quite memorable, hard to disguise, again not exactly what one might expect to see on a second-year law student in a classroom or work situation.

And she wore this dress whenever she wasn't wearing the lavender muumuu.

So.  Two or three times a week she wore the lavender muumuu and two or three times a week she wore the floral chiffon.

Oh, she tried to disguise them.  She accented with a sweater:

or a crocheted shawl:

Sometimes she wore a black blazer:

Like my mad drawing skills?

She wore different shoes:

 

Ouch -- that looks like it might hurt 

Some days she wore boots :

 

But nothing she did was able to disguise the fact that she wore these same two dresses day after day after day for an entire semester.

So why, you might ask again, did I almost flunk out of law school?  What is it about two dresses that almost derailed my career as an attorney?

Have I mentioned that I tend to be scatterbrained?  That I can be forgetful?  That I often have trouble concentrating?

I spent the entire semester fixating on those dresses.

Were there really only the two of them?  Could she possibly own several similar but not identical dresses?  Did she like them that much or were they all she could afford?  If all she could afford was two dresses why not choose something more generic?  How many different ways could she try to disguise Dress One and Dress Two?  Did anyone else notice the bizarre state of things?  Did anyone care as much as I did?  Did she think nobody noticed?  Did she care if anyone noticed? 

I obsessed so feverishly that I could feel my GPA sliding.  I seriously considered sending her some cash anonymously with a note pleading that she buy herself something else, anything else, to wear so I could go back to doodling paying attention in class.

What classes did we have together?  I have no idea.  What was her name?  Nary a hint.  What did she look like?  Your guess is as good as mine.

I do know that over the summer she must have lost weight or come into some money because the next fall she looked slender and beautiful and had a slew of new clothes, and I never saw the lavender muumuu or the floral chiffon again.

What a relief.

Marlene, do you remember this?

 

 

Customer Service: How Not To

Remember those times I raved about surprisingly good customer service?  Well, this isn't one of them.

Robespierre and I wandered into an "antique" shop a couple of weeks ago.  I've never explored the place; I'm not sure how they stay in business since they're often inexplicably closed at peak hours.  It's crammed with scales, catalogs, magazines, boxes, bubble wrap and glass cases haphazardly stuffed with faux-vintage plastic and less-than-semi-precious-stone trinkets from the 70s and 80s, Hummel figurines (anyone else get the willies from those things?), and an oddly out of place autographed football from 2001.

In a vitrine crowded with unremarkable watches and pocket knives we noticed pince-nez*, a pair of those pinch-on-the-nose eyeglasses like Teddy Roosevelt wore.

::Seemingly inexplicable change of subject goes here::

It just so happens that my nephew, Sweet Talker, appeared last week in his school's production of Arsenic and Old Lace.  If you've never seen the film you ought to; it's slapstically, farcically wonderful.  Amazingly, Cary Grant, the Brad Pitt of his day, was an accomplished and uninhibited physical comedian.   He was also a model for James Bond.

My nephew was abundantly pompous as Teddy Brewster, a blustery nut who believes he's Teddy Roosevelt.  Teddy's delusions come in quite handy as his sweet, homicidal maiden aunts assure him that the graves he digs in the cellar of their home are nothing more than locks for the Panama Canal.  Teddy's definitely one of the best roles in the play and Sweet Talker OWNED that role.

Here's a clip from the movie showing Teddy in action:

 

::Seemingly inexplicable change of subject ties in to original subject here::

A few days before the play opened I remembered the pince-nez and thought it might be nice to pick them (it?) up for my nephew as a memento (yeah, I'm the one who sent my niece flowers when she learned to tie her shoes).  Someone at the restaurant next door was kind enough to look up the shop's name and phone number.

Now that's excellent customer service. 

Unfortunately our story's not yet finished.

The lady who answered the phone kept repeating that she was just filling in for the owner and she couldn't possibly help me.  No matter how I tried to charm her, beg her or reason with her, she simply would not tell me the price of the pince-nez or even look for them, even though I tried to explain precisely where they were located.

So Robespierre and I stopped by the shop to evaluate the pince-nez in person.

There she was (the lady, not the pince-nez), stationed in a chair in a cluttered corner, shoes off.

She wouldn't show me the glasses.  She wouldn't open the case.  She wouldn't get up off her chair.  She wouldn't even put on her shoes.

She was willing to call the owner to find out that he might return soon.

Sweet Talker got lots of hugs and praise for his performance, but no pince-nez.

I think that store must be a front for a speakeasy.

*By the way, I have nothing constructive, instructive or destructive to say about the apparent renaissance in pince-nez use, as evidenced by an actual and regularly updated blog called Pince-Nez Renaissance.  Draw your own conclusions.

With Maturity: Perspective And Remorse

I knew a guy named Sidney.  Sidney was fat.  He knew it, everyone else knew it, he never tried to hide it or make excuses for it, and people made fun of him. 

I participated along with the group.  I have no valid excuse for participating; it wasn't due to peer pressure or a need to fit in.  I could have kept my mouth shut and nobody would have noticed.  I'm pretty sure nobody noticed when I took part anyway; I certainly don't remember who else made fun of Sidney.  I also could have pointed out to the crowd that making fun of Sidney wasn't nice, but I never did that either.

As far as I know Sidney never lost his temper; I always saw him guffaw along with the jokes.  Could be he blew up sometimes and I just never saw it.  Could be he tiraded or cried at home, but I never saw any evidence that he minded the comments.

I run into Sidney occasionally.  He's one of the kindest, most decent people I know.  I like running into him.  I enjoy catching up with him.  He's a mensch and he always has been.

Whenever I see him I want to prostrate myself before him and beg his forgiveness for all the times anyone ever made fun of him, but I don't.  I can't.  We don't know each other well enough for me to feel comfortable bringing up something that seems so personal. 

Maybe I should.

It's Passover: Let's Get Unleavened

Image courtesy of Diana's Desserts

Happy Passover to all my Jewish friends, and to all the Gentiles out there who think matzah is yummy and delicious -- just be grateful you don't have to eat it for a solid week.

For anyone who doesn't know, Passover is a Jewish holiday that comes in the spring, commemorating our escape from slavery in Egypt. Jewish families gather to retell the story of the Exodus so that we and our descendants will always remember. Different aspects of the story are represented by different foods we display on the table and eat. The youngest child present takes part in the service by asking four questions about the meaning of the holiday, and the rest of the pre- and post-meal service comprises the retelling of the story and an explanation of the various foods and traditions.

During Passover we refrain from eating anything leavened, including pasta, crackers, cookies, pancakes, cereals, and bread, of course. Instead, we eat matzah, which is a flat, unleavened cracker representing the dough that the Jews didn't have time to let rise as they prepared to flee. There are strict rules for manufacturing matzah, such as the requirement that the manufacturing process, from start to finish, take less than 18 minutes.

Even though we're prohibited from eating anything leavened, however, we've developed creative ways of working within the restrictions. There are recipes and mixes for KFP (Kosher for Passover) cookies, cakes, rolls, pancakes, brownies -- almost anything you can imagine. How do we do it? With eggs -- eggs, eggs, eggs, and lots of 'em! Mix matzah meal (matzah flour) with lots of beaten eggs, scoop onto a pan and bake, and voila -- Passover popovers. Every Jewish family treasures at least one recipe for Passover brownies. Passover angel food cake -- no problem. Matzahs dipped in dark chocolate are mouth watering (although I'd eat just about anything dipped in chocolate anyway); and you haven't lived until you've experienced matzah brei, which is crushed matzahs soaked in eggs and then scrambled for breakfast.

So, Happy Passover to everyone, and remember -- eat lots of fruit and salads for the next week.

I Am Mossier

Almost two years ago I embraced my inner lazy struck a blow for the environment and proclaimed that moss would henceforth take over our yard. 

Like how I managed that part back there?  The part about making it look like letting moss take over was entirely my idea?  I'm clever that way.

And it's worked out better, and quicker, than I'd expected.  Here is some evidence:

 
See?  Isn't it pretty?  It's... why, it's Moss Green!  With purple captions!  How about that?  Now, imagine this stuff all over the yard, except where there are trees or shrubs or holes dug by the dog while prospecting for moles or volunteer oak treelets misplaced by absentminded squirrels, and except for the purple parts.

And the best part is (turns out the New York Times was exactly right) that the "...its density repels weeds" part actually works.  In the past week I've dug up four buckets of dandelions from the perimeter of the moss territory, and some that have survived amongst the mosses since the Clintons were the bosses.  Once they're gone, the moss closes in and seals the holes.  Nothing's getting in there.  Nothing!

Except... maybe I should consider training Miss Puppy to tree squirrels.

Naah.

One Small Strike Against School Bullying

The class bully took one look at me working the school store and scooted out the door. 

He knows I turned him in. 

Is he afraid I'll rip his head off and turn him inside out if he comes too close to me?  Or could he possibly feel guilty for relentlessly tormenting my kid?  Don't know.  Don't care.  He's done his damage and redress would require an extended and extraordinary effort on his part which I don't believe he can pull off.  I don't want redress.  All I want is for him to know I'm on to him and watching all the time.

Those eyes in the back of the head that are standard issue to new moms?  I'm still finding them useful.

In ratting him out I probably canceled out every Cool Mom point I've worked so hard to earn.  Despite all the times I let my kids splash in mud or dye their food purple or mattress slide down the stairs, I probably brought myself back to zero in an instant, but it was worth it.

The bullying was hard to prove.  You can't get any traction complaining to a teacher that a classmate is mean to your kid because they're all mean and mean is so hard to pinpoint.  But when the class bully said something cruel to my kid, loudly and jubilantly and in front of a bunch of other kids, I finally had some traction.

My mother was an expert at bully-retaliation.  She'd storm up to school, grab us around the collar as we tried to escape, shake her finger at all the kids in the playground and snarl: "Show me which one of them did this to you." 

 
This didn't give us standing as the most popular crayons in the box; rather than ranking among the magentas, periwinkles, golds and silvers, we fell in with the seafoam, maize and butternut crowd.  I hated it.

But I also hated the bullying.

I've waited to catch the class bully in some misstep and it finally happened.  I asserted my new leverage to insist he be kept away from my kid as long as they're in the same school.  I tried to intervene as invisibly as possible but it's HARD when I feel like vaulting to my feet and bellowing J'ACCUSE!! every time I see him.

But it's okay.  I don't have to do anything else.

He knows I'm watching.

 

A Letter To The Dog Re: Gender Confusion

Dear Miss Puppy:

You're not fooling anybody.  Even though you lift your leg at every tree, shrub, lamppost, mailbox, trash can and daffodil, nobody believes you're a boy dog, not even for a moment.  Know how I know?

Pink collar.  It's a dead giveaway.

Just keep telling yourself: "I'm a girl.  I'm a girl.  I'm a girl."

Wordless Wednesday: Are The Opposition The "Antisectors"?