February 24, 2005 Ladies Who Lunch I know everybody writes about the spam they get in their mailboxes, but this just struck me funny: Christian? Single? We have the solution! And my first thought was: Give Satan a try! Okay, lame. But it made me laugh. As long as I can amuse myself, I have less need for Growing Up Gotti. Gah! I hate it when I think I'm right about some part of the English language, and it turns out I'm completely wrong. At work, one of the words that folks use all the time is "incentivize." I've never considered that a proper word. "Incentive" is a reward that motivates people. The suffix "-ize", to me, usually means "To to become or become like." Which would mean that "incentivize" would mean "to become or to become like an incentive." So the sentence, "We must incentivize our customers to buy more Ring Dings," to me, means, "We must turn our customers into an incentive to buy more Ring Dings." Therefore, the appropriate packaging for Ring Dings would be, "Free customer with each purchase!" But I'm wrong! I'm dead wrong. Both Merriam-Webster and Dictionary.com have "incentivize" as a legitimate word. And this explains why. The suffix "-ize" also means "to treat or affect with," "to subject to," and "to perform, engage in, or produce." So "incentivize" is a completely legitimate word, used properly. What I always argued was that the verb "incent" was the proper way to refer to providing an incentive. The phrase, to me, should be, "We must incent our customers to buy more Ring Dings"; but that's a little too strong, according to my research. To incent has a stronger meaning than to incentivize; it's much too demanding. To say, "We must incent our customers to buy more Ring Dings" is almost a demand, more stick than carrot. The approach would now be, "Buy Ring Dings, or your family will be put to death!" Microsoft's dictionary still underlines it in red, though, so it must be a fairly new usage of the word. Or Microsoft just isn't all that good with its dictionary, which wouldn't be a first. Still, I don't like "incentivize." I don't think I ever will. I'm such a geek. Today, I planned on asking The Fabulous Robert to lunch, so I sent him an e-mail to see if he was available. Not three minutes after I hit "send," the phone rang. "Hi, Pat?" "Yes?" "Oh, HI! It's your Aunt Sis. I'm just calling to make sure you're still coming over for lunch today." I paused and thought about that for a second. When I visited my cousin Diane, Sis had asked if I wanted to come to one of her Thursday-afternoon lunches with my cousin David (Diane's brother David, not her husband David). I had told her that I would love to come someday. Sis suffers from a mild form of Alzheimer's. She functions really well, but she is forgetful and misinterprets things. She lives with Diane because it's really not safe for her to live alone anymore. She does have her own little mother-in-law apartment in the basement, of which she is extremely proud. At any rate, Sis must have interpreted "someday" as "next Thursday." I told her that I had just sent a message to a friend to have lunch, and she sounded crushed. "Oh," she said, "Your Aunt Helen will be so dissappointed." "Helen's there?" I said. "No, she's coming to lunch. She was very interested in seeing you after I mentioned you were coming over." Oh, damn. I love Sis to death, and I wouldn't hurt her for anything in the world. She'd already made a big pot of "Italian spaghetti" (all my Mom's sisters call it that...as opposed to the "Irish spaghetti" we usually have, I guess) and had invited guests. "Tell you what. I'll cancel my plans; my friend will understand." "Really?" "Yeah, Aunt Sis. No problem." "Okay, your cousin David is coming over at 1:30, and Helen will be here before then, so whenever you can get here is okay." I hung up the phone, then called Robert on his cell. Luckily for me (unluckily for him), he still had the flu that was affecting him on Monday. I told him to rest up, drink some fluids, and I'd get back in touch with him. Lunch was a real revelation. I haven't had dinner with just my Aunt Sis and her family alone since she used to babysit me as a kid. Now that I get to sit at the "adult's table" (at age 36), it's so interesting to talk with them. Sis is slowly losing her memory, but she's still a riot. At age 78, she still approaches life like a 16-year-old. She loves her costume jewelry, tells stories at an incredible clip, and flits around like a hummingbird. Helen, a year younger, acts like the eldest. She's very serious, but Sis can get her going into the land of silly. Helen is very interested in the online art project that I'm doing, and I had to explain it to everybody at the table. It was a real hoot. Sis talked about the calls she gets from scam artists trying to bilk her out of money over the phone. "It's because I'm old, Pat," she said, "They all think I'm stupid. But I'm not stupid! When they ask me to make an investment, I tell them that I have to consult with my husband before making any financial decision. One guy told me, 'Why don't you give me your husband's number, so I can talk to him?' So I gave him the phone number of the cemetery." (My uncle Rich has been dead for years.) "I told him that he's a very quiet man. I talk to him all the time, but he never answers me!" Helen got to talking about geneology. "I always like to find out the cause of death, so I can have a family history of disease." My cousin David piped up, "I don't care about those things. My doctor's always asking, 'What's the main cause of death in your family?'" "Gunshots," said Sis, "Tell them our family always dies in gunfights." I found out that my grandmother (the oh so demure Nana) stole a man away from his fiancee and married him. ("Dad heard that Ma kept her rosary beads in bed. He married her to find out where she put them," said Helen.) I re-heard the story of how Sis used to tie her kids to a tree in the backyard to keep them from running into their busy street. ("They had more room to run around than we did, growing up," said Sis. "Yeah, and I've had a thing about being tied up ever since then," said Diane.) Helen and Sis got to talking about what they wanted to happen to them after they died. "My best friend bought a plot on the other side of the hill from where Rich and I bought ours. She said we could yell at each other across the hill when we're dead. Rich said that he wasn't going to lie for all eternity listening to me jabbering with my best friend!" said Sis. Helen was more pragmatic, "I just want to be cremated. I love the wind...I want to be scattered in a strong wind," she said. "But Sis can't do it. She told me that if I was cremated--" "--to stay out of Wilmington!" finished Sis. The two howled. "I'm afraid I'd get Helen all over me if the wind changed!" "I'm sorry," I said, "I have to shower now. I have Aunt Helen all over me." They thought that was a riot. Three hours passed so quickly, I was amazed that I'd been there for so long. I'm so glad I made the decision to get in touch with my family again. I've never been all that close to my mother's side of the family (she being so much younger than all her siblings), but I'm anxious to get to know them better. As I left, Sis said, "Who do you want me to invite for next time?" I guess that I'm the official "Guest of Honor" in Sis' in-law apartment from now on. I told her I'd call and let her know when I'd be coming again, and who I'd like her to invite. On the way back, I noticed a small shop that sold "British Delights". I wondered if they had some of the things I like that are found in England, so I stopped in. Irn Bru! They had Irn Bru! And Aero bars! I asked if they carried Violet Crumble (my favorite candy in all the land), but the woman said that Violet Crumble is an Australian candy, and that it would probably be easier for me to find it on the internet. And it was! It's apparently an Australian candy, not British. At least I know where to get my "fix." Before going home, I went over to Laurie's house to pick up the DVD set of Firefly. I'd only seen the first episode before (which, it turned out, wasn't supposed to be the first episode). While there, she told me to check out "FrankenKitty," as she's calling GreyKitty. GreyKitty had to have some teeth pulled the other day, and while she was there, the vet removed a lump from her back. It never felt like an especially large lump, but the scar left was especially large: Her back now looks like a pie crust, crimped at the edges. The staples are huge, for such a little cat. She doesn't look like she had a lump removed, she looks more like a magician's trick gone horribly, horribly wrong. ("And now, I shall saw a kitty in half! Abracadab-- whoops.") For all the scarring, she doesn't seem to be in any pain. The shaved area around her scar is very soft, like the top of a baby's head. The cats all looked a little disturbed while I picked up the DVDs. They don't like having their routines upset. I tried to be as non-intrusive as possible, except for petting GreyKitty a little bit. The drive to pick up Stephanie was slick due to the snowstorm, but also very beautiful. Something about the light and the falling snow made me wish I had my camera with me. I don't know if I'm becoming more visual or if I'm just enamored with my new gadget, but I feel the need to take pictures all the time now; and not just endless shots of my profile to see if there's anything at all attractive about it. Here are two shots I took tonight. I'm still learning about framing and how to deal with light (or the lack thereof). For some reason, pictures taken in darkness fascinate me. The back door of the basement. I tried to capture the snow falling, but to get the whole doorway, I had to stand far enough back that the falling snow wasn't captured. Still, I like this shot. This long-shuttered shot does capture the falling snow, with the trees in the backyard as a backdrop. It's almost too bright for my taste, but it does remind me of a Childe Hassam painting. And with that, I'm off to bed.