Sending the very best
Some musical, Kleenex-carrying, self-tanned raving
by Regan White
regan@thecharlotteweekly.com

As I can only guess at the ranting and raving that will result from the events this week, I think it’s only appropriate that McCrickard, Hazel and KeriAnn inspired the raves below.

Warning: What follows are primarily shameless plugs for products I love. I am in no way being compensated by any said companies to profess my preference for any of the items mentioned below; I simply think they are fabulous.

It’s a gold crown for a reason
I’ll never forget when I first met McCrickard. It was at the McGlohon Theatre and Charlotte Squawks was about to resume after intermission. We started chatting and somehow greeting cards came up. A man after my own heart, McCrickard is known among his friends as Mr. Hallmark – sending cards for every occasion, even for ones his friends never realized existed.

“Have you seen those cards at Hallmark that play songs?” he excitedly asked. “Oh my God, I am addicted to them! I drive the Hallmark staff insane. They start groaning when they see me coming because I go down the aisle and open up every single card.”

I understand his excitement. Generally speaking, you either love Hallmark or you hate it. If you hate it, I can’t help you. You might as well stop reading now. For the rest of us, who come up with occasions to send silly greetings, if you haven’t seen Hallmark’s musical cards then you haven’t been living.

Sure, musical greetings have existed for some time, but never have they been this loud or this long or offered this kind of song selection. It’s one thing to send your best friend a card that says, “Sorry your boyfriend was a loser. There are other fish in the sea – toss that guppy back.” It’s something else entirely when that same card plays “I Will Survive” when you open it – the real Gloria Gaynor version, not some lame accordion Muzak version. It’s a symphony for the senses. It’s caring enough to send the very best – like a birthday card that plays “Macho Man.”

Tissue issues
Speaking of sending the very best, I was at a loss for what to get Grandma Hazel for her birthday. As loyal Rant readers know, she has lived with my parents for the past decade following a number of strokes. She is the light of our lives and her needs are really quite simple. For years I have showered her with necklaces, bracelets and clip-on earrings, perfumes, lotions, picture frames, lipsticks and sweaters. I recently made curtains for her room with a pink fabric adorned with blooming pink roses – her favorite. But honestly, after 93 years, what is there left to get? What can one even possibly give to celebrate the fact that she’s been around since 1914? After living through two World Wars, most things seem pretty chintzy.

But while sending out virtual e-mail greetings to various moms on Mother’s Day, I found a link for the perfect present – a tissue box with my grandmother’s shiny, happy face on it. A quick visit to MyKleenexTissue.com offered a huge selection of tissue box backgrounds and borders. I uploaded my favorite photo of grandma and text, all for $4.99 plus shipping.

Now, a personalized box of Kleenex might seem really lame until you realize 1) how much my grandmother loves tissues and 2) the potential this gift has for the mainstream population.

As for the former points, my grandmother is often referred to as the princess of paper products. Growing up in the Great Depression scared my grandmother so much that she used to scrape leftover butter off family members’ plates and put it back in the butter dish after a meal. And yet none of that frugality applies to paper products. If Kleenex went belly-up tomorrow, Grandma Hazel could single-handedly stifle the sniffles of a few states with the tissues she has stuffed up her sleeve. What better way to honor her than with a box of her very own? Granted, it won’t last long, but it’s the thought that counts.

And consider all of the possibilities! A couple might affix a sappy, saccharine photo of themselves on Kleenex boxes to be passed around at their wedding. When an ex-boyfriend comes crawling back, one might slap a particularly fetching photo of herself on a box with the words “Cry me a river.” There’s lots of potential here, people.

Palatable pallor
I’d be remiss if I didn’t give special props to Jergens Natural Glow Daily Moisturizing lotion, a very subtle self-tanning lotion that is the only reason I don’t look like Casper the Friendly Ghost this time of year. Granted, I still look pale enough that people occasionally call me “Powder,” but generally speaking, with this stuff I’m far better off than I would be without it.

I slap this on and in a day or two I have skin that actually isn’t cornea-searing pale. It’s not exactly tan, more like a normal shade of alive, really, but it helps. And, unlike many self-tanning lotions, it doesn’t leave me a dreadful Oompa Loompa shade of orange. However, it doesn’t smell great; it’s kind of like a combination of Nair and having your hair permed, as if Jergens tried to mask the chemicals with a more pleasant scent. Yet, for those of us cursed with skin whose best defense against sun exposure of any kind is to burn and blister on contact, this Jergens lotion is a sure thing.

If you really want to go for the gold, round up a musical card, a personalized tissue box and some Jergens Natural Glow lotion for your favorite pale, sniffly person. I’ll act surprised – I promise.