It seems strange that such a simple word could change the entire meaning of something. How it rolls of the tongue. . . ch a rrr m; charm. The very word has and appealing tone to it. With a purpose-filled inflection it can take on new meanings in the blink of an eye. Here are some applications you may use it on.
The Antiques Road Show, flagship of the appraisal show genre, takes charm and tags it with a perceived value. I am sure we have all seen it. Even I once attempted to see how much my charm was worth when I packed up my car, drove 80 miles to stand in five miles of lines with the hopes of a phenomenal appraisal. Well, the lines were ten miles long and suddenly, I really didn’t care what it was worth. I find it amazing what a little patina and a few paint chips, that would be unacceptable if an item were new, can do for the value of some doll from your attic or that ghastly ashtray you use to hold your keys. A little dust, a little wear along the edges and “viola” you have valuable charm. Some how, I don’t think they would be interested in the “charming” vase I have in my window sill.
Can we all say “Yard Sale”?
Oh, and there is my area of expertise. The “old world charm” of peeling paint and splinters on the weathered planks of a century old barn that some unbelievably wealthy yuppie is going to turn into his summer cottage. Not to mention the hand-blown glass that is so wavy and full of pits and bubbles that you don’t need any window treatments for privacy. Step through the creaky screen door into the foyer that displays the distressed console table that is not just poor workmanship, but with a leg that doesn’t match the other three. Charm in this case, allows imperfections and Goodwill hand-me-downs to pass as the stylish trend or country chic. People purposely make their cabinets look crackled and worn while I’m trying to replace mine. It’s that lust for hand-hewn charm in our techno world. Don’t get me wrong. I like this kind of charm, after all I am the queen of DIY (do it yourself) projects and am grateful for this acceptance.
Can we all say “Fixer Upper”?
Now there is the sarcastic use of charm. What? You mean I have not covered that point already? Well, not really. The ones that really bite and sting are the uses in reference to human character. Our political correctness prevents us from speaking our minds so freely due to fear of offense, that could lead to a punch in the eye or a law suit. Can we call a leopard a leopard without being sappy or rude about it? Let me grace you with further snippets:
“I wanna cookie! I wanna go, mommy! I wanna, wanna, waaaaaa!” whined little Susie from the shopping cart where she sat kicking her shiny patent leather shoes with a dress all crinolined, pink bowed and red faced.
“Such a “charming” child.” the passer by grimaced, as she rolled her eyes and shook her gray head.
Can we all say “Spoiled”?
“What a charmer.” Rachel said in disgust, brow furrowed and teeth clinched. “He really had you going there girl.” she rebuked her image in the mirror. “Fancy dinners, long stemmed red roses, all the right words. . . what a chump I am.” She sniffed and flung teary face into her pillow strewn bed and began to sob.
Can we all say “Liar”?
The rudimentary meaning of charm is to be or act in a pleasing manner. What ever did happen to good manners? I’m not speaking of sending our kids to finishing school and teaching them how to walk properly and which fork to eat with. Though after seeing what the outcome of little training in this area produces, I am not totally opposed to the idea. No, no, no. I’m not an advocate of two-faced politeness and suppressed feelings. However, what about us adults? I simply don’t understand the inappropriate, crude, and mean-spirited behavior we so readily accept because it would be politically incorrect to expect better from our fellow co-inhabitants of our little piece of space.
Since when did charm become such a bad thing to posses? I am not making note of the talisman you may wear about your neck or wrist, nor am I speaking of “Pleasantville” or “Leave it to Beaver”. We seek it so much in the things we surround ourselves with, perhaps because it is extinct in other venues. Our homes, our artwork, our cute little wreathes on the doors. How is it that we miss it where it is most important? In the dealings with other people be they friend or foe, strangers or family. Just a little balance please. (So THAT is why they taught us to carry books on our heads!)
Can we all say “Please” and “Thank you”?
