Watery first Persian word lights blue moon billionaire
02-08-15 14:45 Family Humor,Baby
Last Friday featured a Blue Moon which, even I, color-perception challenged, can confidently report, was not blue. With equal confidence, I can report that there will never be a Blue moon during the month of February.
“Never?” Nazy asked.
“Never! A moon is the second full moon in a month. The month of February is too short, even in a leap year, to have two full moons.”
“Show-off!” Nazy replied succinctly. “Why isn’t Pluto a planet?”
“That’s also easy: Disney has ownership rights.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pluto is a dog, my dear.” I asserted. Accurately, but pointlessly.
The grand(est)son really likes looking at the moon. In fact, he likes looking at any kind of light. He especially likes flipping switches that turn lights on and off. And..
“If he could talk, Nazy,” I claimed, “he would want to know about the switch for the moon.”
In fact, he is on the verge of talking. Some background:
Like most babies, Tiger, the grand(est)son, began communicating in sign language.
“What?” Nazy interrupts.
“He points to what he wants and then he grunts. It is sign language.”
“I don’t think…”
“Nazy! Pointing and grunting is exactly what several of my bosses did during my professional career. It’s classic sign language.”
“And you responded to a grunt?”
“Of course.”
“Hrumph!”
“Yes, dear?”
Having mastered the finger pointing (and thereby ready for a political career), he's now moving to vocalization and word play. This will be a very big step
for him. And a complicated step. His grandfather and parents speak English with him. The Nanny speaks Spanish. Nazy speaks Farsi. It would seem that while confusion would reign supreme, English would dominate his first words.
We knew he was close to talking when, a few days ago, he began humming ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’. This song is sung at the end of each of his music and swimming lessons.
And then, his first word: “aub.”
Note: Dear Darius: This is not AUB - The American University of Beirut where you are a professor. This is the Persian word ‘aub’ which means ‘water’.
“Isn’t this a little strange?” I asked Nazy. “Most baby’s first words refer to people. Words like ‘mama’ or ‘dada’ or, as I tried to teach him: Grandfather.”
“Not in Persia, Dan. You also tried to teach him ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ and that was..”
“He is precocious and that rhymes with..”
“In Persia, Dan, ‘aub' is a perfect first word. It means ‘water’ and is easy to say.”
“Probably the result of all of the swimming lessons I’ve ..”
“Your grandson’s first word means ‘water’. What was your first word, Dan?”
“Coke.”
He can also say: ’Ah Choo!’ (He mastered sneezing earlier.) And, for the skeptics, he says ‘aub’ when he wants a drink, when he wants to help me water the flowers on the patio, when the faucet is turned on (which is rare because of the drought) and when he is at his swimming lessons.
Accuracy note: In the context of ‘drink’, he expects ‘aub’ to mean ‘liquid’. Pointing and grunting is used to specify the exact liquid that he desires.
On another note, It’s hard to believe that Nazy and I have been in California for almost three years. Zürich was a wonderful experience. But new experiences, new places and change are also wonderful. Here, we rediscovered new and exciting things: smiling people, sunshine, cheap or free down-town parking, absurd TV ads for prescription drugs, moronic Presidential candidates spouting stupidity almost two years before the election…
“Dan!” Nazy trumpets. “No politics in The Weekly Letter.”
In fact, California is a very nice place to live. The current Governor, Jerry Brown (Governor Moonbeam) brought fiscal responsibility to the state. Except for the fact that he is 77 years old, it would be very nice if he ran for President; I can’t believe that in a country of 300,000,000 people, the Democrats can’t find someone who’s name isn’t ‘Clinton’.
“Dan!” Nazy interjects.
“It will be a hard uphill slog to secure the nomination. She has a lot of baggage .”
“Including her husband.”
So how did so many members of The Martin Family end up in California? Melika began the migration when she opted for a college experience near an ocean. The rest of the family followed in stages:
Melika, visiting Mitra in New York City, wondered: “Why isn’t anyone smiling?”
Mitra moved to the West Coast.
While searching for a graduate school after graduating from Syracuse, Darius visited Melika in Santa Barbara. He entered UCSB’s economics program shortly thereafter because he ‘liked the Mediterranean climate’.
[Aside: In fact, he liked it so much that he subsequently moved to Lebanon which is on the original Mediterranean Sea. For some reason, he thinks this is more authentic.]
Nazy and I had, of course, visited the area several times. We too, liked the climate and the general living conditions so, when unfair American tax laws, the high cost of living in Switzerland and hints of forthcoming grandchildren mandated relocation, Santa Barbara was our choice. it’s worked out very, very well.
And, finally, a teaser: Next week’s letter will feature a recap of an actual dream I had this week. I have some strange dreams. Once, for example, I dreamed that the entire family had turned into pancakes and I had to explain to Melika why we couldn’t go out for a walk. As is usual, I had the starring role in this week’s dream which included a rubber duck and British billionaire Richard Branson.
So, until next week…
“Never?” Nazy asked.
“Never! A moon is the second full moon in a month. The month of February is too short, even in a leap year, to have two full moons.”
“Show-off!” Nazy replied succinctly. “Why isn’t Pluto a planet?”
“That’s also easy: Disney has ownership rights.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pluto is a dog, my dear.” I asserted. Accurately, but pointlessly.
The grand(est)son really likes looking at the moon. In fact, he likes looking at any kind of light. He especially likes flipping switches that turn lights on and off. And..
“If he could talk, Nazy,” I claimed, “he would want to know about the switch for the moon.”
In fact, he is on the verge of talking. Some background:
Like most babies, Tiger, the grand(est)son, began communicating in sign language.
“What?” Nazy interrupts.
“He points to what he wants and then he grunts. It is sign language.”
“I don’t think…”
“Nazy! Pointing and grunting is exactly what several of my bosses did during my professional career. It’s classic sign language.”
“And you responded to a grunt?”
“Of course.”
“Hrumph!”
“Yes, dear?”
Having mastered the finger pointing (and thereby ready for a political career), he's now moving to vocalization and word play. This will be a very big step
for him. And a complicated step. His grandfather and parents speak English with him. The Nanny speaks Spanish. Nazy speaks Farsi. It would seem that while confusion would reign supreme, English would dominate his first words.
We knew he was close to talking when, a few days ago, he began humming ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’. This song is sung at the end of each of his music and swimming lessons.
And then, his first word: “aub.”
Note: Dear Darius: This is not AUB - The American University of Beirut where you are a professor. This is the Persian word ‘aub’ which means ‘water’.
“Isn’t this a little strange?” I asked Nazy. “Most baby’s first words refer to people. Words like ‘mama’ or ‘dada’ or, as I tried to teach him: Grandfather.”
“Not in Persia, Dan. You also tried to teach him ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ and that was..”
“He is precocious and that rhymes with..”
“In Persia, Dan, ‘aub' is a perfect first word. It means ‘water’ and is easy to say.”
“Probably the result of all of the swimming lessons I’ve ..”
“Your grandson’s first word means ‘water’. What was your first word, Dan?”
“Coke.”
He can also say: ’Ah Choo!’ (He mastered sneezing earlier.) And, for the skeptics, he says ‘aub’ when he wants a drink, when he wants to help me water the flowers on the patio, when the faucet is turned on (which is rare because of the drought) and when he is at his swimming lessons.
Accuracy note: In the context of ‘drink’, he expects ‘aub’ to mean ‘liquid’. Pointing and grunting is used to specify the exact liquid that he desires.
On another note, It’s hard to believe that Nazy and I have been in California for almost three years. Zürich was a wonderful experience. But new experiences, new places and change are also wonderful. Here, we rediscovered new and exciting things: smiling people, sunshine, cheap or free down-town parking, absurd TV ads for prescription drugs, moronic Presidential candidates spouting stupidity almost two years before the election…
“Dan!” Nazy trumpets. “No politics in The Weekly Letter.”
In fact, California is a very nice place to live. The current Governor, Jerry Brown (Governor Moonbeam) brought fiscal responsibility to the state. Except for the fact that he is 77 years old, it would be very nice if he ran for President; I can’t believe that in a country of 300,000,000 people, the Democrats can’t find someone who’s name isn’t ‘Clinton’.
“Dan!” Nazy interjects.
“It will be a hard uphill slog to secure the nomination. She has a lot of baggage .”
“Including her husband.”
So how did so many members of The Martin Family end up in California? Melika began the migration when she opted for a college experience near an ocean. The rest of the family followed in stages:
Melika, visiting Mitra in New York City, wondered: “Why isn’t anyone smiling?”
Mitra moved to the West Coast.
While searching for a graduate school after graduating from Syracuse, Darius visited Melika in Santa Barbara. He entered UCSB’s economics program shortly thereafter because he ‘liked the Mediterranean climate’.
[Aside: In fact, he liked it so much that he subsequently moved to Lebanon which is on the original Mediterranean Sea. For some reason, he thinks this is more authentic.]
Nazy and I had, of course, visited the area several times. We too, liked the climate and the general living conditions so, when unfair American tax laws, the high cost of living in Switzerland and hints of forthcoming grandchildren mandated relocation, Santa Barbara was our choice. it’s worked out very, very well.
And, finally, a teaser: Next week’s letter will feature a recap of an actual dream I had this week. I have some strange dreams. Once, for example, I dreamed that the entire family had turned into pancakes and I had to explain to Melika why we couldn’t go out for a walk. As is usual, I had the starring role in this week’s dream which included a rubber duck and British billionaire Richard Branson.
So, until next week…
For last week's letter, click here
Nazy with Tiger at Music Class
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