HERB BENHAM: A discursive look at cursive confusion
BENHAM: Dessert? No thanks
| Friday, Nov 13 2009 10:31 AM
Last Updated Friday, Nov 13 2009 10:31 AM
I was tired. When you're tired, you see things that aren't there and don't see things that are. It happened last week. I was at a friend's house. I had walked in on a birthday celebration.
It was a gay affair. The birthday girl was 53. Guests included a sprinkling of people from the neighborhood.
After adding my wishes, the hostess asked if I wanted a piece of quiche. I said yes and followed her to the kitchen, where two quiches lay steaming on the chopping block: one was vegetarian and the other bacon.
I opted for the bacon quiche and while I was waiting for the hostess to cut a slice and lift it carefully from the pie pan, I looked at the kitchen counter behind me that had a box with a see-through plastic window on top housing what appeared to be dessert.
This is where fatigue may have come into play. I studied the box in order to distinguish what kind of dessert it was. At first glance, it appeared that the dessert was a "Lemon Fart."
Mercy be. I had seen a lot of desserts in my time and eaten even more, but this was a first. Was this the sort of thing one served at a 53rd birthday party?
I looked again. The script on top of the box was ornate. As flowery as the letters were, the only one about which there was a question was the letter after the word "Lemon" and prior to the letters "a-r-t". It could have been a "T" or an "F."
It reminded me of the bumper stickers with "Jesus" spelled in block letters. Stare at the sticker from one angle, or through the eyes of a sinner, and it appears to be a geometry problem. Look again and we're back on the road to salvation
A friend told me the "T" or the "F" could have been from the Kuenstler Script that first appeared in 1902 and roughly means the handwriting of artists.
"T" or "F." One was a delicious dessert. The other one was the other one.
A disclaimer: I have never used the word starting with an "F" in a column before. This is normally the purview of Dave Barry. Barry does this sort of thing routinely and effortlessly.
However, those two words together, "Lemon F..." struck me almost as having melodic force. Tell me it doesn't roll off your tongue.
Maybe the power was in the fruit. Would this have had the same impact, if "lemon" were replaced by "apricot"? No, because apricot does not contain the austere poetry of lemon nor does it deliver a citrusy punch.
Consider the excellent company lemon keeps: Lemon Flavored Pledge, Lemon Splash by Palmolive and recently, a block of lemon soap that I recently bought at Lush, a fancy soap shop in San Francisco.
A wedge of lemon dresses up a glass of ice water and as my friend Shauna says, "I love to put fresh lemon wedges into the garbage disposal -- smells so yummy!"
In the 17th century, lemons, (often imported), were a sign of wealth and were often included on the banquet menu.
In other words, lemon has a history of pleasant associations. Lemons say, "I'm fresh, I'm clean and you're going to be happy with my arrival regardless of whether I am a "T" or an "F."
I looked at the box again. Jeez, I couldn't tell the difference. I did not stay for dessert. I'm sure it was lovely.
