Tchotchke Tattle-Tales

By Nancy K. Crevier

On top of my computer there is an altar. It started with a gigantic cut-emerald paperweight in a velvet case I received as a birthday present. It seemed a travesty to remove the oversized “gem” from its elegant box. I placed it atop my computer, and there it began to receive its offerings.

First came a stuffed bear, which sits astride the green bauble. He has become the bearer of two festive pencils that appeared around the holiday season. The white and green nylon, jingle-bell- enhanced pencil toppers that bob like court jester’s caps convey, I think, an air of conviviality. Along the way, the bear has been adorned with a gold bee sticker smack dab in the middle of his chest, and a couple of whistle pops from last Halloween are tucked snugly behind him into a corner of the emerald’s case.

That leads me to the other altar offerings. Most are of the genus Apis mellifera, the honeybee, not surprisingly. Two finger puppets, both of bees, sit at the edges of the emerald. One is a hand-knit creation picked up for the bargain price of just $1 from a New York City street vendor; the other is a more fierce-looking critter from a science store, and I admit to adding both of them to my work altar.

There is a tiny bee votive candle provided by a co-worker perched on the corner of the box, and wrapped about the stem of one of the pencils is a little craft bee on a wire stem.

The altar overflows across the top of my computer includes a shellacked orange and green striped gourd and a rubber Big Bird that came from I don’t know where. But it seemed a shame to toss him out. A New Yorker cartoon ridiculing middle-aged Connecticutonians, sent to me by friends in Florida, is pasted to the side of the computer, and all of the phone numbers I have yet to enter into my cellphone, interspersed with notes to myself, are randomly taped about the monitor on colorful sticky notes.

What doesn’t fit on top of my computer has flowed across my desk. Teacups, boxes of tea, family pictures, and various vases mark this corner as my own. I think of them as welcoming and friendly icons, ones that may or may not speak to visitors of who I am.

But according to research done at the University of Michigan’s Ross School of Business, my desk is screaming, “Not professional!”

To be considered professional, says the research, family photos, your children’s drawings, and favorite tchotchkes should be kept to a minimum. Only one out of five objects in an office should be personal. Ouch. Can I count each piece of paper in my office as one item?

Knettie Archard, managing director of Golden Opportunities, takes a much more low-key approach to desk decoration.

“In addition to the two pictures of my husband, I have two fancy-schmancy glass paperweights, each of which was given to me by a very special friend,” Ms Archard said when asked to describe her desk surroundings. The only other thing on her desk is a small see-through wand filled with sparkles and stars and a teeny, tiny Elvis, she said. “Find Elvis In The Wand” is an especially important desk item for those long, drawn-out phone conversations, said Ms Archard.

William Pitt real estate agent Maureen Colbert-Wilhelm has to spread her desk iconography over both her home and office desks, so she is spread pretty thin, she said.

“I just have the essentials and pictures of my children and grandchildren,” Ms Colbert-Wilhelm said. “My favorite picture is my youngest grandson sitting in his high chair having eaten spaghetti with red sauce. The sauce is swirled over the high chair tray like fingerprints and smeared across his mouth and cheeks. When I see that face I can’t help but smile and be happy.”

Mary Maki is happy to share the tale of the one item she keeps nearby her desk

“Between 1986 and 2001 I worked for a college president, who, every August would travel to his home in New Hampshire to prepare his convocation address. One year as he sat near a small bridge on a backcountry road to think about what to say to the incoming class, he noticed a turtle wedged in the rocks. He freed that turtle, and that became the inspiration for his remarks. From that point on his convocation addresses were known as Reflections From the Turtle Bridge. The president retired in 1997 and in his honor a turtle fountain was built on the campus,” said the Friends of the C.H. Booth Library’s president.

“At the time of his death in September 2001, the current president took a picture of the turtle fountain and presented it to me. I keep it close at hand, because although I learned many things working alongside Ithaca College’s President J.J. Whalen, most of all he taught me that whatever I choose to do, I should always give it 110 percent.”

Her desk, she said, is cluttered — with books, no doubt — but C.H. Booth young adult librarian Margaret Brown has one desktop favorite. There sits a fox, said Ms Brown, who changes his outfit to suit the season. The coordinator of the very popular duct tape workshops for young people, it comes as no surprise to hear that Ms Brown’s fox is known to hold a duct tape rose between his teeth at times.

Writers, of course, have many little notes and pieces of paper to keep track of, and author David Shugarts has found some amusing ways to handle those truant missives.

“I have a collection of things called Zortz, which are all around my office,” said Mr Shugarts. Zortz are seven- to eight-inch-tall clothespin puppet note holders. “They are theoretically intended for holding notes, but they are very funny in other contexts. There are Zortz for Beethoven, or Jerry Garcia, or Groucho Marx. You can put them on your desk and talk to them: ask Sigmund Freud for advice on a project, for instance,” he suggested. A filmmaker as well as a writer, Mr Shugarts made a little clip showing Freud asking the fundamental psychiatric question, “Why are you doing that? Are you crazy?” designed to spur one into action, and sent it to Zortz creator Max Gyllenhaal, who he said, enjoyed it very much.

Dottie Evans, another Newtown writer and former teacher, keeps rocks collected from Cape Cod beaches on her desk as paper weights, as well as photos of her family. Another desk accessory she once had was her late and great cat.

“She was always lying down on the laptop, preferably on the keyboard. Her favorite time to settle down was just after I had logged onto AOL and was opening up my mail,” Ms Evans said. Her favorite desk ornament, now that kitty is not there to disrupt the flow of things, is a turtle paper clip holder given to her by a fifth grade student during her first year of teaching. “Little David is now probably 40 years old,” Ms Evans said.

Some of us must be practical, and funeral director Dan Honan said he keeps only the necessities on his desk. Pens, a calendar, a phone, a calculator, and a pen set keep his work area serene and clean.

Peggy Jepsen, clerk of probate court, also takes the practical approach, with only a tray holding a stapler and markers, lots of papers, and a photo of her grandchildren. But her favorite practical item on her desk is the antique court seal she uses to add the official stamp to legal papers.

“I could use the modern one that we have, but I just love the looks and feel of this antique seal,” said Ms Jepsen.

 I was beginning to feel a bit worried about the conservative desktop décor of those whom I had interviewed. It looked like my computer altar was a bit over the top. Then I heard from Newtown Senior Center director Marilyn Place and Judy Fishman, president of LMT Communications in Monroe, and immediately knew I had met my match. It also blows the theory of tchotchkes vs professionalism, for who is more organized and professional than these dynamic women?

Ms Fishman keeps several plants on her desk, a stuffed toy cat, sculptures and multiple photos, she said. The photos include several of her son, her nieces and nephews, photos from a trip to the Southwest, and yet more of cats, dogs, and staff members’ kids.

“I also have a large bottle of Evian water, hand lotion, a clock radio with cassette tapes, a dictionary, a thesaurus, and the absolutely essential large box of Puffs Ultra tissues,” confessed Ms Fishman. “And thanks to my bookkeeper, I also have a tiny pumpkin for the season.”

There is always a filled candy jar on her desk for visitors, said Ms Place, along with the EASY button from Staples. Many other items from her travels fill practical uses while reminding her of wonderful places and people. She has made room on her desk for a letter opener from Africa, a paperweight from Bermuda and one from Hawaii, seashells from Prince Edward Island, a music box from Switzerland, a Stetson from Texas, and even a painted egg from China. Her very favorite item on her desk?

“An original A&W Root Beer mug with my pens and pencils in it next to the phone,” Ms Place said.

Researchers might want to take note of the sign on Ms Place’s desk that says it all: “A messy desk is a sign of genius.” I rest my case.