My favorite things

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Oscar Hammerstein II got it right with the sentiment behind the song, "My Favorite Things," in the Sound of Music. Julie Andrews and the kids never get old on film, and the references are universal even if they were meant for 1930's Europe. The storm rages, we sing along, but at the end of day, there IS a limit to how much one can relate to.

I don't have a lyricist's ability, but I know "favorite" when I see it.  And it usually comes in a few varieties: 1) it doesn't have to be fancy. 2) It is simple yet wonderful 3) It is available just in the nick of time. Consider these:

A snowstorm in which work is cancelled as a foregone conclusion.

A window seat on the LIRR.

A jelly bean that falls out of a candy dispenser without turning the handle.

A child's drawing as a gift.

An unexpected kiss.

A burger and fries.

A family member or friend in a graduation cap and gown.

Sometimes when I have a moment of contemplation, I realize that I will probably always drive a sensible car and prefer word search puzzles to Sudoku. It's unlikely that I'll have a summer home, be a guest at the White House or have a chance to hold an Olympic medal, much less win one. But I can sink my toes in the damp sand of Jones Beach, halve a Krispy Kreme glazed donut with a friend, feel choked up when my favorite team wins the series and it doesn't get any better than that. 

So although I don't have the money, the notoriety, the fame that drives so many people to get up each day I am okay with that. I just know that I touch and am touched by little parts of the world and if I try really hard, every so often I stop taking them for granted.

A contributing writer to the Herald since 2012, Lauren Lev is an East Meadow resident and a direct marketing/advertising executive who teaches advertising and marketing communications courses at the Fashion Institute of Technology/SUNY, LIU Post and SUNY Old Westbury.