Mishpacha’s Family First has made their article about me available, with free registration. Enjoy!

Tergiversation: [1] equivocation: falsification by means of vague or ambiguous language, fickleness; [2] apostasy: the act of abandoning a something or someone, betrayal

Wow, I saw this used in a highly-charged letter — it would have to be a pretty sensitive subject to trigger use of such a word, I guess.

Did the author already know the word tergiversation prior to writing this letter, or did it show up in a thesaurus? If he knew it, why? And did he get all worked up just to create the context in which he could use the word (smarty pants)? Enquiring minds want to know.

It’s cruel, but it must have provided some welcome humor during a frustrating drive. A great sign, posted by @caseywright.

The sign reads: “You’ll Never Get To Work On Time HaHa!!”

From the “Beyond Words” blog:

In 2004, the British Council asked this question to approximately 40,000 non-native English speakers in 46 different countries. According to the survey results, the top ten most beautiful English words from a non-native speaker’s perspective are:

mother
passion
smile
love
eternity
fantastic
destiny
freedom
liberty
tranquility

In a different kind of assessment, a distinguished lexicographer and the originator of the Reader’s Digest Column “It Pays to Enrich Your Word Power”, Wilfred Funk, compiled the following list of the most beautiful words of the English language:

asphodel
fawn
dawn
chalice
anemone
tranquil
hush
golden
halcyon
camellia
bobolink
thrush
chimes
murmuring
lullaby
luminous
damask
cerulean
melody
marigold
jonquil
oriole
tendril
myrrh
mignonette
gossamer
alysseum
mist
oleander

amaryllis

rosemary

Do you notice a difference between the lists? Unscientifically, it seems to me that the first list of Most Beautiful Words (the list chosen by non-native English speakers) is weighted more towards the meaning of the words, plus their overall strength or punch. The second list (from a professional word lover) is weighted more towards the “mouth feel” of the words (with an apparent bias for the “s” sound!), plus their romantic or nostalgic memories (although I can’t fathom the inclusion of “bobolink”…).

I find that difference really, really interesting. It kind of points to the meaning and nostalgia with which words become impregnated over time. The layers of implication that we build up over years of use, misuse, abuse of words. Fascinating.

Driving in urban parts of Israel is more difficult than in Los Angeles, in part because there is less rigid a distinction between roadway and sidewalk.

Having lanes that suddenly swoosh off in unexpected directions (while your direction becomes a “public transport only” lane) turns the whole thing into a kind of living labyrinth. The internal control tower dialogue goes something like this:

“So, if I want to get to Keren HaYesod, I can start out of Geula, cut through Davidka Square and swoosh around Agrippas. Just remember not to come out down Hillel, or there’s no right turn onto Keren HaYesod and I’ll have to go clear down to the Old City before I can start to come around again; I’ve got to sneak behind the Great Synagogue first. That’ll be fine. As long as I’m going to the bank on the right side of the street, not the dentist on the far side. For that, I’d need to begin my approach by coming through Rehavia.”

If you drive a taxi, of course, just go down Jaffa Road and turn right on King George V, which turns into Keren HaYesod. That would be too easy for the taxi drivers, though, so the municipality has thoughtfully dug up most of Jaffa Road for the past two years, just to even the score.

[picture from the Elms in the Yard blog]

The other day, I posted this tweet to Twitter:

“Harry Potter’s magic wand: the ultimate converged mobile device.”

Within five minutes, I was being followed by “Ron Weasley”. Somehow, I think he’s going to be disappointed…

[You can follow me on Twitter at www.twitter.com/power2b]

Mishpacha’s Family First magazine hit the stands today (Jan 7, 2009 edition, volume 123), including a four-page article about Yours Truly (click here to download a PDF version).

Mishpacha is the leading weekly magazine for the global haredi (or chareidi, for Chareidio junkies) Orthodox/Yeshiva Jewish community. I’m honored and humbled to be featured… and anxiously dread the feedback.

The best part was being introduced to the writer, Bassi Gruen. I sense a friendship in the making.

Some things are basic truths: we become great through difficulty. I don’t know why, of course; but life experience has shown that it’s true. (I suspect it has to do with galus: that alternate route, that more difficult historical path to redemption.)

Shmula has posted a marvelous piece, attributed to General Douglas MacArthur:

Build me a son who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is a afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds; a son who will know Thee — and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spew of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high, a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men, one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, and the meekness of true strength.

Of course, we don’t wish for our children to suffer. But shouldn’t we wish for our children to achieve personal greatness? Shouldn’t we wish for ourselves to achieve personal greatness?

Perhaps reading General MacArthur’s prayer serves as a sort of litmus test: how deeply do we feel the words; how truly do we yearn to make our lives worth living?

Perhaps reading General MacArthur’s prayer puts us into a frame of mind where we feel less sorry for ourselves, less angry at the world, and more determined than ever to be Big.

*  *  *

Here’s another version, via the American Information Web:

A Father Prayer by General Douglas MacArthur (May 1952)

Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishbone will not be where his backbone should be; a son who will know Thee — and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength.

Then, I, his father, will dare to whisper, have not lived in vain.

Shouldn’t your first reaction to any change of corporate policy be to redesign the logo?

Enjoy the full set of 15 here.

[Via Business Pundit. Thanks to Ken for the tip.]

© Tevfik Ozakat | Dreamstime.com

You know those awkward moments where you don’t know whether it’s better to say something or just to keep your mouth shut? Like when someone is walking around in their best suit, dragging a bit of tissue on the sole of their shoe. Or giving a presentation with a button open.

On the one hand, if you inform your hapless acquaintance, you will spare him a lot of future embarrassment — but at the cost of being the agent of humiliation. On the other hand, if you say nothing, you can pretend you haven’t noticed anything, but eventually the guy will realize what has happened, along with everyone else he has met that day since talking to you.

What do you do?

I received an email today from a business contact with whom I am barely acquainted. His automatic email signature misspelled his first, last, and company names. His first name is now that of a wild animal; his last name sounds like the evil scientist in a kids’ sci-fi flick; and his company has just changed cultural allegiances.

These are worse than ordinary typos, of course: they are embedded in the footer that goes to every email correspondent. Sigh.

Should I say anything?