The There There Letter: Kiddish, Kooky, and Kissing

Being joyful isn't what makes you grateful. Being grateful is what makes you joyful. (Ann Voskamp)
DAH is me, David Anthony Hance.
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First up this week: Kiddish …
Did reading a comic book about a comic strip make me suddenly feel kiddish? Possibly. There’s often a negative connotation attached to behaving in a childish (kiddish) way. Calling it "kiddish" makes it seem, to me, more fun and less of a misbehavior. Unless one is actually a child, I suppose. When childishness is the norm. I like the idea that kiddish behavior is playful, a fun release. I often dip back into books from my childhood and recollect the kiddish fun I had on my own and with friends. Home alone a lot these days, I miss kiddish play.
Second up this week, Kooky …
Being kiddish could be kooky. Hopefully fun. Surely disorienting. Personal family drama has me thinking about kooky people. That’s a kind way of putting it. Kooky sounds fun. That's why I like the word. But risks to others makes kooky a bit danger-laden, too. Uncontrolled or uncontrollable kookiness keeps me on edge. What's going to happen next? And there's the word "cookie" which is much more common but means something totally different. There are times, many times, when I'm seeking kookiness not cookieness. More lasting emotional impact with kookiness (unless it's in the danger zone), and better for my waistline.
Third up this week, Kissing …
On a slightly less worrisome note: kissing. I have friends (most friends) who hug in greeting and goodbye. I have friends (more than I would have guessed) who kiss on the lips upon meeting and parting. Men and women. I would credit the kissing to a shared theatrical background. Except that many of these friends aren’t engaged in the theater at all. "A kiss might seem like a natural thing to do for most of us, but the scientific jury is still out on whether it is a learned or instinctual behaviour. Approximately 90 percent of cultures kiss, making a strong case for the act being a basic human instinct." (Emer Maguire posted on https://www.britishcouncil.org/, 11 March 2015). But I'm hung up on "permission to kiss." I've had no conversations about this with those who kiss me. And I always allow the other to initiate. I like kissing, but the Spanish "Kissgate" incident fresh in mind? I'm nervous.
A surprising book …

I got myself a used copy of How to Read Nancy: The Elements of Comics in Three Easy Panels, by Paul Karasik and Mark Newgarden. On a whim. I didn’t really know anything about Ernie Bushmiller’s Nancy comics. I’d seen them, of course (over 800 newspapers carried Nancy at its peak popularity). And I’m interested in graphic novels and, similarly, some comic art. But before I got beyond the first pages of How to Read Nancy, I stumbled upon Three Rocks. Bill Griffith, the artist/author, is famous for Zippy the Pinhead. Three Rocks is a graphic novel style biography of Nancy’s creator, Ernie Bushmiller. It’s a tad dry at first, covering the basics of Bushmiller’s life leading up to Nancy. Then the book turns somewhat surreal and quite interesting, and ends up being rather emotionally engaging. Not just a life’s work reviewed, but a slice of 20th century socio-cultural history. I loved it.
And a bit more …
"Just Keep Quiet and Nobody Will Notice"
by Ogden Nash
There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges,
Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies.
I don't mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet,
Because I think that is sort of sweet;
No, I object to one kind of apology alone,
Which is when people spend their time and yours apologizing for everything they own.
You go to their house for a meal,
And they apologize because the anchovies aren't caviar or the partridge is veal;
They apologize privately for the crudeness of the other guests,
And they apologize publicly for their wife's housekeeping or their husband's jests;
If they give you a book by Dickens they apologize because it isn't by Scott,
And if they take you to the theater, they apologize for the acting and the dialogue and the plot;
They contain more milk of human kindness than the most capacious diary can,
But if you are from out of town they apologize for everything local and if you are a foreigner they apologize for everything American.
I dread these apologizers even as I am depicting them,
I shudder as I think of the hours that must be spend in contradicting them,
Because you are very rude if you let them emerge from an argument victorious,
And when they say something of theirs is awful, it is your duty to convince them politely that it is magnificent and glorious,
And what particularly bores me with them,
Is that half the time you have to politely contradict them when you rudely agree with them,
So I think there is one rule every host and hostess ought to keep with the comb and nail file and bicarbonate and aromatic spirits on a handy shelf,
Which is don't spoil the denouement by telling the guests everything is terrible, but let them have the thrill of finding it out for themselves.
And that's all for this week.
From Mary Oliver's "Sometimes"
Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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