Words that are "a little bit off"

       One notice of this today by yours truly.

       As I left home to do an errand, I told Connie I was going.  She asked where.  I paused for a couple long moments, couldn't quite think of the store's name, and finally said "Spindles."  Then added, "You know, the place that sells color cartridges for printers, etc."

       When I got there, what I saw above the entrance door was "Staples," which I didn't think was far enough off to feel bad about it; in fact, I felt pretty good.  Really, "staples" are almost as incidental to what they sell there as are "spindles."

     

How the powerful may imperiously use and prevent speech at the same time.

Sunday March 29, 2015

Read more: http://dilbert.com/#ixzz3VqXGg8bN

he does strange things with language

                                       
                                        r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r

                                who

       a)s w(e loo)k
       upnowgath
                         PPEGORHRASS
                                                     eringint(o-
       aThe):l
                  eA
                      !p:
     S                                                                 a

                                      (r
       rIvInG                          .gRrEaPsPhOs)
                                                                     to
       rea(be)rran(com)gi(e)ingly
       ,grasshopper;


                     e.e. cummings

It's so nice to get personal mail.

       We used to get personal mail a lot in our old-fashioned street mail box.  Now ads,  political pushes for money, and monetary requests from worthy organizations we sometimes wish we didn't support any longer stuff our box.

       And as is the way of the world, Connie and I now find ourselves avoiding our email boxes for exactly the same reason.

       And just when you get some snail mail in an envelope you think you may actually want to read--they have your first and last name spelled right in the address after all--you see what follows your name:

                              Or Current Resident

So much for your "Personal" correspondence.  Maybe you could invite them for a visit to talk about your "current residency". . . over coffee. 




      

Stuck in a Dern and pulled out a Dem

       I've commented on how "r"next to "n" in certain fonts can turn into "m" before your eyes.  So Laura Dern the actress becomes Laura "Dem."  And with some degree of probability, I'd say she is, but still you'd like a name to register as it is, without distortion.

       Today Yahoo's "Top News" on its Homepage included this item as I read it:

  
          "Tomatoes hit Oklahoma, Arkansas, 1 dead . . ."


Once you see the "r" and "n" merged into "m," it's easy for proofreader's error to scoot you right by the "d,"  having already seen it as a "t."

FootNOTE to Sunday March 15's "Language of Birds"

Still Spring, still e. e. cummings

       O sweet spontaneous
       earth how often have
       the
       doting

                  fingers of
       prurient philosophers pinched
       and
       poked

       thee
       , has the naughty thumb
       of science prodded
       thy

            beauty     . how
       often have religions taken
       thee upon their scraggy knees
       squeezing and

       buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
       gods
              (but
       true

       to the incomparable
       couch of death thy
       rhythmic
       lover

                thou answerest


       them only with

                                spring)

451 years ago today Shakespeare was born.

       But no one knew that day what glory his days on earth would bring.

       I remember doing "Is this a dagger that I see before me / The handle toward my hand?"  Macbeth, and not a half-bad job with it in college acting class.  I remember the greatest Hamlet of all time (I was sure) Lawrence Olivier's on film; and his Henry V, stunning!

       I taught the performance of the Bard's sonnets in class and sat in wonderment at them.

       I've performed both Hal and Falstaff in a reading from Henry IV, Part I, alas not that well, but the work lives on, justifiably, whether performers have killed it or made it soar.

       The sound, the rhythm, the characters, the human panoply arrayed before us, to relish, laugh at, be saddened by, and recognize, finally, as ourselves.
     
       HAPPY BIRTHDAY, you lengthily living baby born this day!

             (OK, I'M A MONTH OFF, BUT I WON'T RETRACT MY EARLY ENTHUSIASM FOR THE  BARD THIS FINE SPRING DAY.)

 

and it's spring

       Spring is like a perhaps hand
       (which comes carefully
       out of Nowhere)arranging
       a window,into which people look(while
       people stare
       arranging and changing placing
       carefully there a strange
       thing and a known thing here)and

       changing everything carefully

       spring is like a perhaps
       Hand in a window
       (carefully to
       and fro moving New and
       Old things,while
       people stare carefully
       moving a perhaps
       fraction of flower here placing
       an inch of air there)and

       without breaking anything.


                  e. e. cummings

 baby pomegranate shown by elder(perhaps)hand

      

ISIS, Issa, Issa

       A coincidence of names that were in the news today, all three of them close to one another in sound and spelling.  Two of them have venom associated with them; the third is soft-hearted, playful, and tender as a breeze.

      ISIS is every day on and in the news.  Pretty hard to miss.  But then Darrell Issa (pronounced ICE-uh) was also on the front page today.  Replaced as head of the House Oversight committee, even Republicans thought he used his position egotistically, smugly attacking President Obama and Secretary of State Clinton, e.g., on the first day of "his" investigations using vehement, caustic rhetoric.

       So I couldn't help noticing that another prominent name was also on the front page, in fact the SAME name--Issa--(this time pronounced ISS-uh), the Japanese writer of Haiku: 

             I must turn over . . .                            Buddha on the hill
       Beware of local earthquakes           From your holy nose indeed
             Bedfellow cricket                                Hangs an icicle 



            

      

"Agreement" of Subject and Verb . . .Hmmmm

       I'm still hung up between wanting to say things the right way and realizing the normal course of language is change.

       Here's a TV HIGHLIGHT from the L.A. Times the other day:


       CRIMINAL MINDS  The fact that none of the victims of a Wisconsin serial killer have any apparent link to one another confounds the pattern-seeking Rossi . . .


       Knowing that "none" is short for "no one" and that it's the subject of the verb "have" troubles me. "None" is singular.  The plural "victims" is not the subject of the verb, sitting there as object of the preposition "of."  I think I'd change the verb to "has" and "one another" to "any other."  See what you think.

       But maybe I'm just a "pattern-seeking Rossi" confounded by natural changes toward comfortable expression.

       

"Troglodyte"

       Jerry Brown, our redoubtable governor for the second time in my life, held news conference on the steps of the national capitol and observed:  "About immigration reform the Republicans are at best troglodyte and at worst unChristian,"  prompting some KPCC-FM commentators this morning to note that Brown has to get away two or three thousand miles to make pithy, newsy comments he seldom seems to make in California.

       OK, your faithful language lover had to refamiliarize himself with the word troglodyte (having looked it up at least once before):  Merriam-Webster helps with Greek trogle, "hole, cave" and dyein "to enter."  So either "a member of a primitive people dwelling in caves" or "a person resembling a troglodyte (as in reclusive habits or outmoded or reactionary attitudes)."

Initials: First, Last, and Always

       How all the initials in the world seem here and ready for use to those ready to use them.

       Tomorrow our PT will be here and ready to work with Connie.  The RN might make it too or will at least receive a phone call from us to make a report.  She'll want to know about the BP and whether a BM occurred.

       A later doc appointment will require a CT Scan beforehand, which as mentioned earlier keeps me remembering CSPAN and thinking of CPAP.  And if anyone knows what some of them refer to, "You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din."

Therapy has a meaning and has two sides to it.

       Noble work of Connie in doing her PT today.  Concentration of efffort, in sitting, standing, exercising legs, working with a walker, under the tutelage of skilled physical therapist.

       Words, demonstations by therapist, "no"s, "yes"es, "goods," Connie copying, putting foot forward 'stead of backward, then catching the placement being requested, missing, "no," "that's it, yes"; resting between efforts just sitting, breathing, "in nose, out the mouth." "Stand, now we'll walk outside, down to the mailbox," negotiating the two stairs, exact movements for balance, safety, security.

       Therapist, to us all:  "She did good today!"

Joy in Writing?

       There's joy in writing, maybe more post-writing than beforehand or in the process.

       I was thinking this when I finished writing the "mocking birds" post yesterday.  How much it felt like the end of each day's writing of my Ph.D. dissertation: 

       Not really thinking you had it or had much of value to say and at the end of the day's writing, realizing you're much happier you wrote this than not having ventured it.  It was much better than you thought it was going to be!

      

The Language of Birds

       Our mocking bird(s) is raucous and ever-present these days, and no doubt even moreso since I added hearing aids.  The high pitches have returned, almost with a vengeance, and birds are definitely within that range.

       Of course, the mocking bird is multi-lingual; almost any sound other birds can make, he can make and probably make it better and more profusely.  The bird of imitation speaks lots of tongues fluently.  Do you?  Do I?

       And the mocking bird is not really mocking in the sense of making fun of or treating with derision, but imitating.  Today it seemed to me he's engaged in "international commerce" amongst not only birds of a feather but birds of all breeds.

       And yes there was some sense of  competition, outspeaking and maybe bluffing the other voices, playing "king of the hill" or "trees";  one-ups-manship and "power singing" were going on here!

         [Please visit this post now.] 

Just a Spoonful of Gall

       My phone company sent a letter: Thank you for changing your payment plan to online.  If you haven't made this change, call this number immediately, or your payment will be changed to online. 

       That's the substance and a fair share of the wording.

       I don't remember doing that, and I don't think I did.  I''m sure it's cheaper for them to have it online and probably cheaper and faster for me to do it that way.  But is this "force feeding" method--"Here, the spoon with the syrup is half way down your throat; if you don't want it, don't swallow RIGHT NOW!! or it's GOIN' DOWN."

       Is this nice?  Is it acceptable business practice?  Is it LEGAL to change your customer's method of payment without his or her requesting it?!    

'tsinaname?

       A care-giver temporarily in our home offered up her first name as "Maricor"--strange sounding to my ears and Connie's.  She said it was unusual and short for Maria Corazon, which she said was too long hence Maricor.  I guess one could come to love that name. 

       In any case, it's her name and her preference for identifying herself, but Connie and I both loved the sound of the full name, perhaps especially with "corazon" meaning "heart" in Spanish.  Maricor is actually from the Philippines.  Perhaps there are mixed feelings about a Spanish heritage by some Filipinos.

Rushin' Rant

       Seeking a certain word on the way home in traffic, I came up with several others on the way to finding it:

It's the rush that comes from new love, it's the rush of water over Niagara Falls,  it's the bum's rush, it's Rush Limbaugh, it's the rush of rain streaming down the sewer drain, it's the rush of wind through the trees, it's the Russhhh-un Dance by Tchaikovsky, it's the rush on college campuses of fraternities and sororities, it's the blush of the flush with the rush of blood to the cheeks . . . yes, but it's actually rush hour.  

C.O.P.D.

     One of those diseases that, no matter how many times I hear the name, I come up blank on what it stands for.  COPD.  Yes, I get the drift on what's being affected; it's somewhere North of asthma, but however accurate the descriptors for the ailment these initials signify, the words quite stubbornly get lost upon my memory.

       Yes,  the beginning might protrude through and unveil "Chronic Obstructive . . . " but then, the remainder of this high class Latinate/Greek body wracker will stay hidden.

       In fact, the whole COPD might as well be the Colorado Police Department as anything intelligible I can come up with.

       All right, finally, "Chronic Obstructive"--(if memory permits)--"Pulmonary Disorder."

       Or, as I gasped to the attendant medicos in emergency the night the flu felled me, "can't breathe." 

Getting moving again.

       Jogging, exercising, body on the move, blood working, tired, but things churning.  I need it.  Connie needs walking, legs moving.  She's returned from a health set back, but going through mail, sorting, throwing, attending, enjoying being home and ready to work for a healthy comeback. 

       Also grabbing the news and catching up on Downton Abby.

       No way to tell you how good it is to have her back where she belongs.

Thanks to friends who saved their BEST birthday cards for me!

       Good friends joined together to gift me and help celebrate an 85th birthday.

       The two birthday cards they sent from the two couples had front cover quotations that make you smile, and then drop your jaw a bit with the mind-opening imagination/inventiveness of the expressions:


       "Living on earth is expensive but it does include a free trip around the sun every year.  Happy Birthday."


       "Birthdays are good for you.  Statistics show that people who have the most live the longest!"
                                          (Larry Lorenzoni) 


 

Mark, riding Barabak, Lassoes a Word

       There are musical elements in language that sneak up on those who put words together which  may hardly, if at all, be noticed as having contributed to the flare of the writing.

       Consider this paragraph today by political writer Mark Z. Barabak of the L.A. Times about Bernie Sanders:


       "He is angry, righteous, waving his arms, hollering and contemplating a run for president, which is why 150 Iowans have turned out on a numbingly cold evening to hear Vermont's independent U.S. senator vent."

     
        I just know Mark Barabak didn't consciously choose, but unconsciously, what I'd call the perfect word to end his paragraph.  It's a strong verb, definitely apt,  but I'll betcha anything a little musical genie tapped Mark to find the word that lassoes the first two and the last two letters of "Vermont"!

      

"Nonchalant"

       Somehow the word was uttered in an appropriate context between my son and me last night, and I simply wondered where it came from.  No ready root came to our minds.

        A good time for the dictionary.  You're right if you thought a French origin is involved.  Chalant  meaning "warm" coming from Latin way back calere, "heated" or "hot."  So "not warm or heated."  And "cool" is even a synonym.

Pronunciation-itis--Wanting to get it right

       
       When outstanding LA Times classical music critic Mark Swed goes kind of crazy for a new performer, it's time to sit up and take notice.  Yesterday's Headline and sub-headline respectively?  "Get ready for Mirga mania," "Conductor Mirga Grazinyte-Tyla wows in fiery L.A. Phil concert at Disney."

        By my count, the surname of the new female assistant conductor of the Phil appeared in the article 16 times.  My inner ear was going daft by about the 5th until I hypothesized a pronunciation something like GRAH-zin-ite TIE-la.

        The review didn't give the apparently correct pronunciation of this name we're all going to be contending with until its 16th and last printed appearance:  GRA-chin-tee-eh TEE-la.  The sound you hear is the tinkle of my imagined pronunciation shattering into pieces.

      

"Who(m) am I speaking to?"

       On the phone this morning, I needed to know the name of the party I was speaking to so I could ask for her when I called back later.  Which word would you choose, "who" or "whom"?

       I always convert such a question into a statement to "solve" it:  "I am speaking to who(m)."  I change the words to "he" and "him" and ask myself which sounds right.  If the answer is "him" as in this case, I know the "right" choice is "whom."

       But what did I actually say?  "Who am I speaking to?"

       For one thing, having two "m"s so close together ("am") is awkward to say.  For another, whatever the "rules" about objects of prepositions, common usage is, and should be, a great arbiter of what is permissible in language.   

"Familiar"

       Getting out on the road this morning in my car, at a nearby stop sign I pondered freeways vs. city streets, and either way, it occurred to me that what we like is the familiar, the paths and routes we know, have used often . . . the familiar.

       And I wondered why we use and choose the word "familiar" to characterize such cases.  Of course, for the associations the word contains.  What is usually most close to us, most long term and far back in immediate personal relationship to us?  Our family members, who else!  And what better word to suggest any long-term unquestioned relationship in which the other seems to know us just about as well as we know the other.

       It's "familiar."