One Man's Poison Ivy

"We love the country, of course " said Macy's, Manhattan's biggest department store, in a holiday ad this week. "The air is so fresh, the grass is so green, the animals are so audible. But . . . Does the country love us?" Pausing to "survey the blandishments that have lured many a New Yorker away from the safe familiarity of asphalt pavements and carbon monoxide," Macy's offered its own glossary of country terms and phrases for New Yorkers. Excerpts:

Barbecue: The food is burned.

Clambake: The food is buried, but it's burned.

Let's-draw-lots-to-see-who-cooks: The food should be buried.

Casual clothes: What you're stuck with when everyone else is wearing silver fox jackets over bathing suits.

Mosquito repellent: If you were hungry enough you wouldn't pay any attention to it either.

Picnic: A temporary claim staked out near the largest and hungriest ant colony within 15 miles.

Children: Persons who never have anything of importance to communicate when you're stopping at a service station, but who wait until you're on the Pulaski Skyway.

Keep Out, No Trespassing, Beware of the Dog: "Oh, Joe, we simply must have some of those flowers for the apartment."

Declaration of Independence: Your decision to stay home with the TV set, the tall, tinkling glass and your faithful electric fan.

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