and Counting!

       Here I am at year's end wondering how I got here.  I haven't even made out my profile for this blog.  I haven't given a fuller description of how the blog began, and what led up to it, and yet I've done sixty daily entries (excuse me, posts) as intended, starting from November 2nd.

       I feel the profile and fuller description are coming, but meanwhile I'll give a clue by telling something of why I started the day I did.

       The little girl Abigael crying and expressing her impatience with both Mitt Romney and "Bronco" Bama, home videoed by her mother, which then went viral, was just too precious a moment with language to let pass by.  The president had been likeable to many, but to see him transformed into a Western Cowboy Hero by a four-year-old through her quite understandable misnaming told me the blog had to begin that very night.  And it did.

       Happy New Year!  Keep your ears and eyes open.  I'm planning to.  There's a lot to know and  enjoy.  

"It's Easy, Just..."

       Another gripe before year's end.  I love doing this blog, and I'm sure Blogger is as good and simple and user-friendly an employer of explanatory language as anybody on the Web.  But Blogger, like most, still assumes more readiness to comprehend directions than this user is able to muster.

       My warning sign for something I'm not going to "get" is the word "just," as in "To do so, just go to your Settings / Formatting tab and set the 'Show Link fields' option to 'Yes.'"  I would "go" if I knew where it was.  The "just" implies a simple, easy move is about to be described.

       I know, the answer is, take some time from writing the blog to learn how to publish the blog.  And I'm willing to do so.   So I'm not really complaining.  But maybe people could employ a few less "justs," if only to acknowledge a comment by Dylan Thomas speaking of a toy he received as a child at Christmas with "easy instructions for little engineers":   "Easy for Leonardo!" 

Not to Mention the Prices!

       What do you do when your computer tells you magenta and cyan are low, two of the three ink colors?  Were those in my Crayola box as a kid? 

       I purchased all three colors in one package, but which were the two that needed replacing?  Magenta, that's  reddish, I think.  Is cyan blue?  No color name on each refill cartridge. 

       OK I used the dictionary and cyan is in the blue-green range; I could just retain the old yellow, which I suppose will be low soon.

      But why doesn't HP label the colors, putting "cyan" (or, better, "blue") on the blue cartridge?  Then I could buy just the two I need. 

       So...should I take some cyanide?  Say Sayonara to Hewlett Packard?

       I bit my lip, replaced all three, and cursed HP!

"Proxy Interview"

       The death of General Norman Schwarzkopf yesterday, he of Gulf War fame, reminds me the name Schwarzkopf had been a part of my childhood.

       I was an ardent listener to the radio "Gangbusters" show, which dramatized stories of America's criminals.  At show's end, Colonel J. Norman Schwarzkopf of the New Jersey State Police (the general's father) would come on for a "proxy interview" about law enforcement.

       I didn't know what "proxy" meant.   Did all my elders, let alone other kids, realize a proxy was "a person authorized to act for another"?  Was it an actor reading the colonel's words, or did writers, perhaps, womp up the words which the colonel "authorized" and maybe even read himself?

       Sometimes language is chosen to inform and obscure at the same time.

       

        

Each Word in its Time Sees Many Uses

       With New Year's Eve approaching, perhaps bouncers might be needed for some events, but I never thought of them being "rented" exactly.

       This was my first reaction to the sign in front of a residence.  Was it yours?  Of course, there's the kind kids crawl into and jump up and down on air-inflated plastic.

       But if the kids raise too much "Hell" and become "hellions," sniffing "Hellium," we may need the other kind of bouncer anyway.

Time Turns the Table(t)s

       In a new gift book from my daughter, I read that one of the co-authors is always using her iPad to check her references, and she makes the "sweet reflection" that all texts have "come full circle":

                        "From tablet to tablet, from scroll to scroll."

       From, as I understand this, the Tablets of the Ten Commandments all the way to iPads, from scrolls of the Torah and other ancient secular and sacred texts to the scrolling you are doing now to read this.

       The book is jewsandwords by Amos Oz and his daughter Fania Oz-Salzberger.

Next, Car Will Stand Up on its Hind Tires & Bark

       Our tech advancements prove ambiguously helpful.  My nephew David told me today of sitting alone on his dad's front porch one day when he heard, "Your door is ajar."  He looked around, saw no one, and again heard after a Ding "Your door is ajar."  He looked down toward the curb, and there was a car:  Ding..."Your door is ajar."  There was no owner in sight.

       Then David heard a Ding, and the flat-toned voice said, "Your keys are still in the ignition." (PAUSE) Ding  "Your keys are still in the ignition."

       Now let us watch both voice and vehicle disappear.

      

       

Small, Very Big

       Looking for gifts for nieces, Connie and I came across a blouse that was sized "Petite Extra Large"?!  To me that sounded like a contradiction in terms, "petite" being French for "little."

       My petite-sized wife said, as we looked at this broad-gauge blouse, "It means short but..." and her gesture said "wide."

       "Oh, OK," I said.

"Graffiti Nerds"

                                         (Click on comic to ENLARGE)

Getting Caught by Words

       Can this “getting caught by words” be passed on to a third generation?!  I picked up daughter Elizabeth and grandson Micah at the local Metrolink stop on a recent visit, they having arrived by overnight train from Tucson.  A thrill for me...I had never been to our very own train station, well, platform.

        As we pulled away in my car, Micah pipes up from the back seat rhapsodically, ”The Famous Los Angeles Toilet!”  What?  I turn and see a handsome, elliptical, stand-alone structure with those very words running prominently around the top (minus "the famous”).  Elizabeth had me wheel around for her to see too.

        We all took glee in it:

                                Los Angeles Toilet

proudly displayed for arriving passengers to wonder at.  And Micah, 9 1/2, caught it.

Of Course, St. Nick Will Be Everywhere Soon

       There seem to be endless examples of how we read through our experiential filters.  Another instance occurred for me this morning.

       I'm looking up air quality conditions on the AQMD map.  I saw "Santa Claus."  What my eyes had actually fallen upon was the city of Santa Clarita just north of where we live.

       Must have something to do with the season.

The Way the Fortune Cookie Crumbles

       I  retained five fortune cookie fortunes which have a certain amount of ambiguity to them:

•          You will be fortunate in everything you put your hands on.
•  
•          Use your natural talents to obtain more.
•  
•          Your leadership qualities will shine soon.
•  
•          You are a person of imaginative, yet honest intentions.
•  
•          Your luck has been completely changed today.

       These throw me off kilter.  Each sounds promising until the end, which then leaves one doubtful about something.




                                                    

"Feckless"

       Our government's inability to come to terms with the fiscal crisis in the past year and a half has at least one beneficial result.  I finally know the meaning of the word "feckless."

       I knew it wasn't a positive word but really didn't know its meaning.  (Couldn't figure out what it would be to be "without feck.")

       Well, it's Scottish in origin and feck is an alternative word for "effect," without effect, worthless, irresponsible, lacking vitality, feeble, ineffective, careless.

       Yes, yes, that's it...our government.

Only in the Digitalized 21st Century

       I finally sent an email politely requesting to be removed from the mailing list of a certain woman regarding her yoga classes.  Neither Connie nor I  recognized her name and had been receiving a number of messages.

       We got an embarrassed reply from a former pottery student of Connie's, now presumably married with a different last name, and living in Tasmania, Australia.  She had confused two "Connies" in her email address book and had no idea we were receiving her yoga announcements.

       All has to be well in both Australia and the U.S., however, when the former student ends her message, "But please send Connie my best wishes.   She was by far the best and most inspiring pottery teacher I've ever had."  Nice.

       Come to think of it, we don't take yoga, but it would have been some trip to get to one of those classes.

No Telling Where You'll Find Yourself

       A good bit of satire--to me anyway--that we humans look up at the sky at night and see things like "The Big Dipper" and "The Southern Cross."   But as a cat-lover I know suggested, it is a good and funny comment on cats themselves, who think the whole universe centers around them.

         Hmm.  Could be a good comment on both of us. 

Twixt the Knee & the Ankle Comes Time's Scythe

       I keep trying to escape the aging in Shakespeare's well-observed seven ages of man:  Jacques refers to "shrunk shank" with legs dwindling to spindles.  So I check in the mirror as I try to hold time back with exercise, jogging, tennis, occasional hiking and biking.  The legs are holding up pretty well, thank you, and I thank God and my own efforts that I'm mobile and not reduced (yet) to the "shrunk shank" of Jacques's aging stages.  It's in As You Like it, Act II, Scene 7.

          

Reading with Our Heart and Our Experience

       A while back, I came home to see a bright orange card hanging from our front doorknob.  It said "PAIN."

       I was almost shocked because I'd been thinking and worrying about that for several days, wanting to have Connie's pain prescriptions adjusted to help more with her back pain, a doctor urging her to start up some exercises again to relieve the pain, Connie finally having a supportive phone conversation with our primary physician on upping her medicine to better manage the pain.

       And then my eyes picked up the rest of the word:  "PAIN-TING."  Someone wanted to paint our house.

You Like Speed? We've Got Speedy Retribution

       Two bits of language I came across today that caught my eye.  Out shopping and in the parking lot a posted sign:  "No Exhibition of Speed (Burn Outs, Racing, Revving Engines)...We report all violations to LAPD Direct Dispatch for arrest and prosecution."    Sounds like a helicopter overhead ready to pounce and take you in.  So look out!  

       And helping Connie shop for some clothes as gifts for women, I came across a handsome sweater, nicely made.  The brand name was "laundry."  Why would you brand any product as laundry?  I don't know. 

Orange You Going to Agree?

       I was impressed with rapper Eminem when I heard him say he gets "pissed off" if people maintain "'Orange' is the only word you can't rhyme with anything."

       Eminem says there are lots of things he can rhyme with orange.  The word said as a single syllable, no.  But if you "bend" it a bit and make it into a couple syllables, "or-ange," then you can say something like

       I put my orange four inch door hinge
       in storage and ate porridge with George.

       Now no one can tell me there isn't a poet buzzing around inside a rapper when he can play with words like that.

Please Delete This Message

       Every day I am spoken to incorrectly in my house.  The source of this failed use of language?  My microwave oven.

       I warm up my coffee, the printed message comes on for me:  "Enjoy your meal."  This is meant to be a simulated form of human contact...even utilizing the word "your."  But most times, it's not a "meal."  It's a drink, it's popcorn, hot cereal, defrosted meat.

       I feel insulted.  I can do without words accompanying this service, especially ill-considered ones.  Better design time would have been spent creating a door that's user-friendly and shuts without force-10 pressure and the tinny clatter of a clunky car door.

      

Poet Rachel Zucker Talks to Kids

     
       “I have something very important to tell you. . . . ”  I lean in close to the kids in the classroom and lower my voice to a whisper.  “You probably think you have two eyes, right?”  They nod.  “Well, you don’t.”  They look around at each other.  Some of them laugh.  “You each also have a third eye.”  One girl scowls at me disapprovingly...

       “Your third eye is invisible, so no one knows exactly where it is, but most people think it’s right here.”  I touch the spot between my eyes and above my eyebrows.  The kids touch their foreheads.... 
“Everyone has a third eye,” I explain.  “That’s how you see all the things in the world you can’t really see but know are there...like how a whale would look if it was pretending to be a princess.”  The kids nod and giggle.

How the Ear Rewrites the Dictionary

   
       The other day I used the word "nickname" in the blog and learned something; in fact, this was the second word I'm aware of formed by the same peculiar circumstance.

       Nickname from Middle English is an alteration of ekename.  Eke means "also" and hence an additional name.  "Nickname" is formed from a misdivision of an ekename.  That little "n" that comes before vowels in such a formation got transferred into a nekename.  Easy to hear how such a change can occur by continual use in connected speech.

       The other word.  "Ought" or "aught" means 0, zero, a cipher.  But it's actually derived from "nought" or "naught."  In Old English na=no and wiht=creature or thing.  A "naught" is a "no thing"; however, "a nought" became "an ought"--this time an "n" subtracted instead of added!


         

Will the Candles Last Eight Days?

  
       I heard something I hadn't before on the Garrison Keillor show today.  It's a Tom Lehrer song.

       I found a good version on the internet with Lehrer himself singing.  (I'd heard him in person once in college--very witty.)

       So this is in honor of Chanukah (my spelling), begun last night, and it's dedicated to my son who is actually currently celebrating Hanukkah in Santa Monica:

       

Names for What We Love, 2

       (Continued)  The furthest extent of my 4500 mile road trip was Pyramid Lake, Canada.  When I headed south again toward Jasper, British Columbia, I  curled the car around some small breathtaking ponds with the morning mist rising mysteriously from them, and said proudly to my Neon, "You are my gallant, my horse.  I get on your all fours, and we go."

       But it was along a lonely stretch on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, late in the afternoon, with few cars, and not a radio station anywhere on either dial, that I had first captured the jointness of our crazy venture together by suddenly addressing my companion as "Rosinante," the faithful four-legged fellow traveler of Don Quixote.   This remained my favorite intimate name for my Dodge Neon.

       I still call out these names on occasion, but there's a hint of strain and nostalgia to it now.  Yet it's true that when I lock up everything at night, I do at times peak into the garage and say, "Hi."

Names for What We Love

       When my aging white Dodge Neon is behaving particularly well, I  still call it by the names developed years back on my 4,500 mile "West Coast Trip."  If you can reliably depend on anything mechanical for that long, you have a relationship and a sense of gratitude.

       Early I came up with a name that I thought would stick:  "White Steed."  But I woke one day in Astoria, Oregon to say, "Good morning, Steed," and realized I'd given it a nickname.  Other monikers ensued such as "Motorized Wonder," and in a burst of enthusiasm, after we both had been refueled at a terrific lunch stop in Hope, Canada,  I even jammed my foot on the accelerator and said, "Let's go, Big Guy!"

       "Big Guy"?  This is the vehicle that had been dwarfed at a downtown Banff street corner as I gaped through my windshield at an ELK towering head and shoulders above us.
                                                   (Continued tomorrow)

Quick Minds, Hard Work: Clear Expression

       When you come across articulate language that explains and questions taken-for-granted but important phenomena, cherish it.  That's why I recommend KCRW-FM's widely distributed daily program "To the Point" hosted by Warren Olney.   I have been cherishing it for upwards of a decade, and  I submit today's program  (available on the Web) as a potent example.

       The show's title is "Competing for Private Enterprise with Public Dollars," a topic I did not know existed before today.  The guests are extremely knowledgeable, and Warren Olney is nothing short of a brilliant questioner, having absorbed thorough preparation and exactly aware of what each guest is able to contribute to an audience's understanding.  I would be most surprised if you are not grateful for what you hear brought to light in this program.

       This is the URL for today's broadcast:  http://kcrw.com/tothepoint


       

Distracting Myself from the Stress

       The nurse who checked my medical profile I thought said her name was "Juan," but it was "Wuan..." and a much longer name to follow, and she was not Hispanic, but Thai, the nationality with long names, like my dermatologist's:   Borirakchanyavat.

       My anesthesiologist appeared Japanese, but with the colonoscopy about to begin, I failed to inquire.   Rosa the student nurse asked my permission to stay and observe; I said sure, she of Hispanic origin and pleasant demeanor.   Dr. Hamamah, my palindromic gastroenterologist, has an Arabic name.   He told me it meant "dove." 

       The nurse overseeing my coming out of anesthesia, Magdalena, is Philippine.   I mentioned the diversity of Kaiser personnel in names and background, and she said, "Yes, we...I...came here for something better."  "My family too," I said.  And many others'.

The Imitative Aspect of Words

        "Scoop" is a word that practically does what it means.  Try it.  You might exaggerate a little bit just to get the feel of it.  Say it with me:  "scoop."  You feel the mouth rounding out, the lips protruding, very much suggesting what a scoop looks like and does.  Once again, slowly: "s-c-oo-p."

        To get more refined, you can say the "s" of scoop sort of slides into action like a scoop, the "k" and "p" sounds are hard as the boundaries of a scoop must be to dig and retain its contents, and that "oo" in between is the rounded part of it to help gather and hold things in.

        Now something called a "skip" or a "scap" wouldn't hold much.  Would it? 

Supreme Court to Consider DOMA?

       I haven't liked the "Defense of Marriage Act" from the first time I heard it.  There is NO way to distinguish by ear between a "Defensive Marriage Act" and a "Defense of Marriage Act."  The unaccented "ive" and "of" syllables have exactly the same sound in connected speech.

       I thought it must mean something like putting up one's dukes to protect a mate.   And the abbreviation DOMA?  Something to do with a dome?  Just a little short of "dumb."

       I could say pretty eloquent words in defense of marriage myself, but I would like to see those who want to marry another of the same sex have that privilege and responsibility, those benefits and society's imprimatur that go with marital status.

       But on grounds of sound alone, Supreme Court, you have my blessing to declare DOMA unconstitutional.

Words, like Amber, Contain the Past

       Something I never told Abe Kleiman, my friend who died in the last month, is that the exercise he taught me to do with my two 5 pound dumbbells is the exact replica of the gesture at the origin of the very word "dumbbell."

       In earlier times, church bells summoned people and tolled the hour.  Sextants in towers pulled the ropes that brought the clappers in contact with the bells.  Someone saw a good exercise in this.  String ropes up over pulleys with weights on the other end.  Pull the ropes down and let the weights pull your arms back up.  "Tumb" means "silent" in German, whence English "dumb."  "Dumbbells" are "silent bells."

       I think of Abe every time I swing the two weights from down at my sides to overhead and back.

      

"Wisdom" Literature

       This is the first time I've ever glanced at one of H. Jackson Brown, Jr.'s Life's Little Instruction Calendar entries and thought, "The opposite is true."

       "Life's too short to eat brown bananas, cold pizza, or drink warm beer."  No.  "Life's too short not to eat brown bananas, cold pizza, or drink warm beer."  When it's what you've got, have it!  

       I'm not much of a beer drinker, but I know I could put up with warm beer as I have fairly often  the other two:  when the banana's browning, it can still be surprisingly welcoming under the peel, and cold pizza retains plenty of what you liked when it was hot.

       What I'm willing to bet is, I'm a lot closer to the end of life than Brown was when he wrote, "Life's too short"!

"Study Who(m) & What to Vote For"

       Does it make any difference?  With or without the "m"?  This is a note I jotted myself before the recent election.

       No, I was going to be doing the same thing either way.  But that darn "who, whom" question still tickles the corner of my mind.  And I didn't feel right till I added the "m" as object of the preposition "for."

Getting Help on the Web

       I entered this into a search engine today: "My car bucks and bumps over the road; what's wrong?"   

       One guy whose car matched exactly my '96 Dodge Neon's symptoms said, "I have new springs, isolators, sway bar endlink bushings, caster camber plates, subframe connectors and yet every little bump in the road seems to HIT my car..."  Wow!  I had no idea what might be involved.

       Another guy said he preferred "performance" over "ride."  "My car will out-handle most anything on the street, but I can feel paint stripes through the steering wheel."  Wow again.  For him.  But not for me. 

        However,  I finally realized why everyone on the site seemed to be referring to "stangs."  I was in a site for Ford Mustang owners.  I think I'll just take a third guy's advice and let some air out of the tires.      

It's Hebrew that Carries Your Groceries

       I noticed in the Jewish Journal today a little feature called "HEBREW [Word of the Week]."  It instantly reminded me of the Hebrew study I did as an adult at the American Jewish University.

       I kept searching for words that were similar to English words.  Needle in a haystack time!  The word I found that stunned me was "sack" [ שק].  How did it get into English?  The American Heritage Dictionary even does a special "word history" on it.

        In the ancient Middle East Palestine was on a trade route.  Products had to be carried and transported.  Along with the goods went the containers that held them and the container names, from country to country, including to German tribes; so into German, and finally Old English,  a Germanic language.


   

A Jog in My Blog

       Coming to the end of the first lap in my Tuesday jog, I uttered or muttered, "1/8th."  It surprised me.

       In over 15 years of running, I'd never said that.  I keep track of the laps in my eight times around the path in the park.

        The way I put it was in keeping with my state--I was tired and draggy:  1/8th meant "I've got seven laps yet to go," which is the way I felt; would I make all of them today?

       I always have said, "One," which marks the completion of a lap, an enumeration that's sort of a congratulation.

       In such ways does language choice express us.

"Chortle," a Blend

       My poet friend has sent me a new poem he's written as he's done through the years.  It contains the phrase "a chortle of children." I liked the sound of it, but paused over whether it was quite right in the poem.

       Lewis Carroll coined the word "chortle," apparently out of "chuckle" and "snort."  Every time I see the word, I try a chuckle, then a snort, then fancy a sound that would be a combination of the two.   I have trouble making that sound without a wry or derisive cast to it.

       Carroll's words are "O frabjous day!  Callooh!  Callay!  He chortled in his joy."  And my friend's line and context suggest joy and enthusiasm as well; so perhaps that's Carroll's intention.

       But the "snort" in there always takes me to a slightly different place with a subversive undertone!
                                                                  

                                                                      

Laughs Can Dissolve and Temper Anxiety

        Larry Joseph of radio station WBAI, N.Y.C, told this joke on Garrison Keillor's show today:

              CNN heard of a Jew in Israel who prayed at the Western Wall every single day for years.  A broadcaster caught the man as he was finishing one day, introduced herself, and said,
               "I'm from CNN.  We've heard you are here every day.  May I ask your name?"
              "Abe Goldberg."
              "How long have you been praying here?"
              "60 years."
              "60 years!  What do you pray for?"
              "I pray for peace among Christians, Jews, and Muslims and among all people of the world.  I pray for politicians to listen, understand, be generous, and find a way to live together.   I pray that everyone stop, look around, appreciate this wonderful world, and enjoy what God has given us."
              "And, Mr. Goldberg, how do you feel about it after all these years?"
              "It's like talking to a wall!"



              

              

"Stick-to-itiveness"

       Yes, Elizabeth, there is a "stick-to-itiveness" (since my daughter once asked me), it is, indeed, a word.

       Imagine what an accomplishment it is:  five different parts of speech--a verb, a preposition, a pronoun, an adjective, all rolled up into a single noun.

       Why won't "determination," "perseverance," "assiduousness," do instead?  Why this patched together hunk of common clay?  Maybe it's that dogged seat-of-the-pants-to-the-chair grit that no other more "respectable" term will quite convey.

       Huzzah for "stick-to-itiveness."  The gummy, tackyness of it is virtually gluing everything in place right now:  "Keep at it, hold to task, courage, focus, you can do it, you're doing it, hey...there, you've DONE it!"

"Buried" Words

       Waiting for some family goodbyes at our hotel room, I had flopped backwards onto the King-size bed to surrender to the tiredness of the trip.  Arms, legs, and body in full mattress contact, as wife Connie came by, I said, "This is my catafalque."

        I had never used the word before.  But all it needed was the physical experience of being laid out lifeless to activate an inert part of my vocabulary.   Perhaps it's analogous to a computer's "finder":  give it the right "hint" and it pulls up what one has forgotten.

"Thanks" Also Due to Samuel Johnson

       Eating breakfast out on Thanksgiving Day this morning with our two children, son-in-law, and grandson, the spirits were running high along with the volume.

       The breakfast sandwich at Brueggers' was good, and I was trying to concentrate on enjoying it.   Since I had not been very communicative, in fact, annoyed a bit with the chattering around me, I said pointedly, "Excuse me for concentrating on my food."

       This immediately brought back Dr. Samuel Johnson's remark, which I then repeated to my voluble family:

        "A man who pays no attention to his stomach will pay little attention to anything else."

Not His Grandfather's Game

       Some of the games kids play today are by name alone downright scary:  "Assassins' Creed," "Resident Evil 6," "Beastly," even "Undead Nightmare."

      The one my grandson Micah wanted sounded relatively mild--"Pokeman White Version 2," less frightening, for example, than "Rage" from the creators of "Doom."

       It was also a relief to see in the game store prominently displayed..."Just Dance 4."

Grateful Time

       Thanksgiving approaches.  I came upon these words that seem to strike the right note for the season.  They're by author, lecturer, and Benedictine brother David Steindl-Rast:

You think this is just another day in your life.  It's not just another day.  It's the one day that is given to you, today. ...[T]he only appropriate response is gratefulness. ...If you learn to respond as if it were the first day in your life and the very last day, then you will have spent this day very well.

A Simple, Friendly Inquiry

       To hear pleasant words at an airport fast food shop was so exceptional, it proved a tonic before taking flight.  The girl at the register said, "How are you doing this morning?"  A simple and direct question.  "Tired but ok" was my honest response.  She smiled and said she felt the same way.

       A lot better than the exchange Connie recounted she had read in a novel last week.  One character asked another, "How are you?"  "FINE.    Frantic, Irritated, Neurotic, and Exhausted."

Not a Bad Name for a Shampoo

       I noticed Suave shampoo on my wife's dressing table and realized its root is ultimately "sweet."  Teaching in the speech communication field, I became aware of this.

       Whence else "persuasion," "to sweeten thoroughly"?

       I always felt I wouldn't want to "argue" or "debate"--argue goes back to a root meaning "babble, chatter, prate."  And debate means to "bat down"--you wouldn't persuade someone hitting him with a bat!

       "Suave"--smoothly agreeable and courteous--sweet.


 

"The End of the World--Again?"

                   
       A clever and blase´way to put down the "Maya Calendar End Time Follies" as E. C. Krupp calls them in the November 2012 Griffith Observer.  12/21/12 is the supposed Mayan prediction for the end of the world.  Krupp reprints this 2009 Skeptic magazine cover.

  

     
 

Could Be Why "Voyeur" Is a French Word

       I was shopping today in a women's clothing store with my wife.  Let's say she was shopping, I was hauling, and it struck me it's important to know French so you can talk about one section of the store, "Intimate Apparel."

       "Intimate" itself goes back to French intime, and the master term of the category after all is "lingerie" pronounced and spelled a la Français.  "Brassiere" too stands forth from its French origins direct into English, briefed into "bra" by impatient Americans, and  "camisole," "chemise," "negligee," and "bustier" all made their way into our language pretty much intact.

       Thus many "intimate" items seem to be borrowed,  along with their cachet,  right out of the French "boudoir."

Romney's "Women in Binders": a Footnote

       Calvin Trillin writes humorous political poems in The Nation.  This week in his "Three Republican Candidates Discourse on the Subject of Rape," he recalls Todd Akin, Joe Walsh, and Richard Mourdock and their denigration of womanhood.

       After the three quatrains, a couplet concludes:

              The Rape Science Three can provide more reminders
              That now Mitt's got wingnuts in all of those binders.

Cartoonist As Punster

               

                                And then there's the least-liked puns.

No Backtalk, God!

       During the past year I bought two books at separate times and just realized recently they "speak" to one another.  The first is called Talking to God and the second, When God Talks Back. 

       Actually, each book is fine in its own way.  The former by Naomi Levy is personal prayers, not out of sacred text or prayer books but created by her out of tangible human situations, needs, and joys...as so many of the original religious prayers were.

       The second is an effort at understanding what happens when evangelicals find themselves hearing from God.  T. H. Luhrmann goes into four congregations and with a participant-observer's eye produces a nonjudgmental and insightful study.
      
      

Steady and Clear

        "I love you from way back," I said to my wife as I kissed her at bedtime the other night.  First time I'd ever put it that way.

        But it's true.  1950 is when I fell in love with Connie.  62 years.

        Then today in a review of the "Collected Poems" of Jack Gilbert, from his poem "The Abnormal Is Not Courage," I came upon lines that resonate:

                      The marriage
                      Not the month's rapture...The beauty
                      That is of many days.  Steady and clear.

Puns with Double Jeopardy

       I was tuned to the replay of "A Prairie Home Companion" joke show on L.A.'s KPCC-FM today and heard what must be one of the few two-word puns:

                 Couple guys are sitting next to each other in a cabana at the beach, and one of them says  to the other, "Have you read Marx?"
                 The other guy:  "Yeah, from sitting on these wicker chairs."

       Oooh.  Oooh. 

A Deadline Ploy?

"As Harry Truman famously said, 'If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen'."

By saying "famously," the journalist at once acknowledges the phrase has been quoted endlessly and  excuses himself from laziness in not finding a less clichéd way of making the point.

At the OK Corral

                                 
                                                              
                                  Fiscal Cliff
                                       meet
                                Bronco Bama

                                     

The Lurid Always Rings Twice

"Hook me, Frank, hook me."

No, that isn't what my wife said as she approached me this morning to help her hook her bra in back.  It was simply "Hook me."  But whenever she asks, I flash back to the time in 8th grade Milt Gordon, Ev Karon, and I had discovered a paperback of James M. Cain's The Postman Always Rings Twice.  Inside the lurid front cover was a snippet from the book in which the female character, a waitress, is saying to her boss at a roadside diner as he hovers over her, "Rip me, Frank, rip me."   The three of us looked at each other, mouths gaping, "Wow!"

So when Connie asks, I smile and say, "Hook me, Frank, hook me."

(As Connie pointed out, it's the reverse of what's happening in the novel.)

Speech Doctor to the President

I spent some time this morning (Wednesday) rewriting the President’s speech last night.  It would have been a far more humble (and shorter) speech, not only thanking those who supported him,  but promising them he would as avidly seek their support during the next four years, seeking not donations and door knocks and votes this time, but phone calls, emails, letters, Tweets, and homing pigeons if necessary, to get Congress to acknowledge the groundswell behind the President's policies. 

Some of President Obama's final words do underlie those policies:

"I believe we can keep the promise of our founders, the idea that if you're willing to work hard, it doesn't matter who you are or where you come from or what you look like or where you love. It doesn't matter whether you're black or white or Hispanic or Asian or Native American or young or old or rich or poor, able, disabled, gay or straight, you can make it here in America if you're willing to try. "

Those words sound the notes that have indeed made America great!

From Election Day, November 1884

If I should need to name, O Western World, your 

   powerfulest scene and show,
'Twould not be you, Niagara--nor you, ye limitless 

   prairies--nor your huge rifts of canyons, Colorado,
Nor you, Yosemite--nor Yellowstone, with all its 

   spasmic geyser-loops ascending to the skies, 

   appearing and disappearing,
Nor Oregon's white cones--nor Huron's belt of mighty 

   lakes--nor Mississippi's stream:
--This seething hemisphere's humanity, as now, 

   I'd name--the still small voice vibrating--America's 

   choosing day...
                               Walt Whitman

Same Words, but What a Difference

At the funeral today for Abraham Kleiman,  a friend who had a fine sense of humor, the rabbi recalled the best joke he thought Abe had told him:

            You know the difference between a pessimist and an optimist?

            The optimist says, "Good morning, God."

            The pessimist says, "Good God, morning."

How Big is Your Scoop?

"Two Scoops" appears on the Kellogg's Raisin Bran box.  Is there an objective measure for a scoop of anything, including raisins?   You could call it "One Scoop" or "Three Scoops" and still have the same amount of raisins.  

A Word that Outsmarted Spell Check

Can you find what spell check couldn't in this Associated Press article about decreasing sales of Hallmark Greeting Cards?

               "Pete Burney, Hallmark's senior vice president who overseas production, said 'competition in our industry is indeed formidable' and that 'consumers do have more ways to connect digitally and online and through social media'." 

The President's New Name

Things are looking up for Obama when a little kid in a home video goes viral on YouTube after she calls the president "Bronco Bama."  I think just about anybody would vote for Bronco Bama!