nebbish

neb*bish

noun
/ 'nebiSH/

1. one who is fearful and timid, especially in making decisions and plans, in discussions, debates, arguments, and confrontations and in taking responsibility

2. (slang, mildly pejorative) A loser

Who doesn't know someone befitting this description? A jelly fish with no backbone, imagine if The Little Mermaid was written with Barbra Streisand in mind? What if Ursula had sung "Poor Unfortunate Souls" as a yente? For really, what Disney movie wouldn't be better if it was in Yiddish?

"Poor Unfortunate Nebbishes" doesn't quite have the same musicality, true...but what if it did?

*

I admit that in the past I've been a schmuck

They weren't kidding when they called me, well, a shikse

But you'll find that nowadays

I've mended all my ways

Repented, seen the light, and made a switch

To This

And I fortunately know a little magic

It's a shtick that I always have possessed

And dear lady, please don't get verklempt

I use it on behalf

Of the miserable, the lonely, and depressed (shlemiel)

*

Poor unfortunate Nebbishes

Oy vey, in need

This one longing to be thinner

That one wants to get the girl

And do I help them?

Oy gevalt!

*

Perhaps this is not kosher for a goy like me to post...but I bet it made you smile. See how much fun we can have with words? And while I usually recommend words only for building people up, should you find means to use this word...imagine the glee you will obtain knowing they have to google what nebbish means.

resplendent

re*splend*ent

adjective
/ri'splendent/

1. Attractive and impressive through being richly colorful or sumptuous

2. Glorious: having great beauty and splendor

synonyms: shining, bright, brilliant, refulgent, luminous, radiant, splendid, shiny, lustrous, sparkling, effulgent

To merely say the word brings about a sense of the delicious. Resplendent dances on your tongue, leaving you with a smile. Often I wonder if somehow I have powdered sugar left on my lips from simply speaking the word. Go ahead and try it. See?

Imagine seeing something so beautiful that simple adjectives seem inferior. Sitting on my magical patio attached to my former home, the way the light hit East Tennessee was resplendent. Or that special smile devoted to that special someone...being in the presence of whom makes her glow; her countenance was that of utter resplendence.

I have heard music that was so beautiful it was sumptuous, so sumptuous it was resplendent. I have been in churches that are radiant not only in their structure, but in their purpose: housing the children of God in resplendent stained glass windows, splendid archways, and lustrous light.

I have seen bodies move brilliantly in dance; choreographed resplendence. I have had my breath stolen by pirouettes, heart jump-started by hyper-extended backs, pulse quickened by limbs akimbo as if in flight.

The face of my mother before the pain claimed her. The giggle of a man who would always be really a boy during his short stay on this earth. The sound of my nieces and nephews playing. Saturday mornings in my father's rusty-red pick up truck. The smells of my grandmother's kitchen. The feel of a house teeming with lost souls who somehow found a home. The words of Buddy Wakefield. Hearing the voice of my Saviour and knowing it was him with no real way to explain it. Standing in front of a Van Goh. Anything sung by Adele. New York at Christmas. East Tennessee in the fall. Indiana at sunrise. Broadway. The Ocean. Life, at its best.

Simply resplendent.

bereft

be*reft

adjective

/bi'reft/

1. Deprived or lacking of something, esp a nonmaterial asset


2. (of a person) Lonely and abandoned, esp through someone's death or departure

When one receives news that a 13 year old boy has died, a sort of overwhelmingly silent loudness fills the air. Much like lifting a seashell to an ear, the whoosh of air plays tricks on your mind. You do not really hear the ocean. Just as you do not really hear the voices telling you such terrible things. You are empty. Bereft. And even words hold weight when everything else falls away.

Where had I heard this wind before

Change like this to a deeper roar?

What would it take my standing there for,

Holding open a restive door,

Looking down hill to a frothy shore?

Summer was past and the day was past

Somber clouds in the west were massed.

Out on the porch's sagging floor,

Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,

Blindly striking at my knee and missed

Something sinister in the tone

Told me my secret must be known:

Word I was in the house alone

Somehow must have gotten abroad,

Word I was in my life alone,

Word I had no one left but God.

Bereft - Robert Frost

"I like good strong words that mean something." Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Once upon a time there were books without faces. Shocking, I know. And in these books, were pages. Tangible, whisper thin pieces of paper called pages. And on these pages were things called words. Beautiful concoctions of letters strung together to create a tapestry of story.

There were no silly little anagrams. No one dreamed of using a smiley face to convey pleasure. The only hashtags were found in opium dens. Emotions were not condensed like soup to arbitrary text limits. Emotions were conveyed in words. Words were collected like precious gems; the more you had, the higher your esteem.

It seems, somewhere along the way, we have forgotten the value in a word. I may blog so that words are not lost. This is my challenge. This is my vow.

Truman Capote once said, "To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the music the words make." Shall we make music together?