Ten Guys You'll Probably Never Meet

I got an Instant Message today from someone named Dana, who works in my organization, but in a different office. I’d never met her before, or so I thought. When I got a phone call from Dana a few minutes later, I found out how wrong I was. Turns out, I’d never met him before.

This highlighted the fact that we should not jump to conclusions about a person based on his or her name. Come to think of it though, I’ve still never met Dana, so I'm just assuming he’s male based on his voice over the phone. I hope I’m not wrong again.

After this happened, a coworker and I talked about male and female names. We agreed that Dana is not the most unlikely of men’s names. We’ve both met guys named Kelly, Tracy, and Stacy. But neither of us has ever met a guy named Sarah. Since we here at Unintimidated by Convention feel lists are fun things to share, I give you Ten Names You’ll Probably Never Find on a Guy:

1. Sarah

2. Alicia

3. Brittany

4. Melissa

5. Amber

6. Tiffany

7. Rosalee

8. Margaret/Maggie

9. Catherine

10. Heather

Note that all bets are off if you’re dealing with a Frenchman. They use a whole different set of rules.

Something For All You Good People To Ponder

In case I have not driven away the last remaining souls who once read this blog, here is yet another English lesson, or what I should just title "Stuff People Say That Really Irritates Me."

You ever hear this one? "He's good people."

I've been around folksy folks who like to say things like that. "I sure like ol' Buck Chapman. He's good people." Or, "That Slim T. Pronghorn feller sure is good people. His brother Lefty is good people too. They both are. They'd give you the shirt off their back any day of the week, and twice on Sunday." Or even, "You know who's good people? Cactus Jack Skalkaho. I've known CJ for a lotta years, and I've always said he's good people. It's too bad we can't all be as good a people as he is."

Don't get me wrong. I like old-timey, 19th century Western Americana-type stuff. On a scale where 1 is stubborn tradition and 10 is extreme progressiveness, I'm probably about a 1 1/2. No, make that 1 3/8.

I know there are expressions that don't conform to the usual rules for singular/pluralism. In Turkish, when you want to say "good day" (at a greeting or departure), the words you'd use translate directly as "good days." We sometimes speak of politics as a single thing, when clearly the word is plural. "The media" is likewise technically plural, but often used in a singular sense.

...but I don't care about any of that. I think calling one person good people is about the dumbest sounding thing you can say. Please don't ever say this around me.

What Irony is, and What it Ain't

Ring the metaphorical bell, because class is back in session! It's a class in the Unintimidated School, which is kind of like old schools in that we care about using words correctly, as opposed to joining trendy conventions of misuse. We're not at all Old Skool, as we feel that is an inane, largely meaningless phrase. In that sense, you could say the Unintimidated School is ironic, or at least the term "Old Skool" is. (Also, we feel it's impolite to kick things, and proponents of Old Skool are always kickin' it.)

Let's get something straight: "ironic" is a term way too often misused. When you notice that something is coincidental, unexpected, or occurring under interesting circumstances, why not just say so? Too many kids (and even adults) like to claim these situations are ironic. Irony is when something turns out completely contrary to what's expected, given the usual meaning or behavior of the elements involved.

It's ironic when an ambulance runs over you, or a murderer saves your life. I could say "How ironic! A hard hat fell off the shelf and landed right on my head, giving me a concussion." This would be a correct use of the term. Some incorrect uses would be, "Hey, I was just thinking about you, and now I've run into you in the elevator... how ironic!" and "Oh, your son has the flu? That's iroinc; my daughter just had the flu."

YouTube features numerous parodies of Alanis Morisette's Isn't It Ironic, a song filled with things that are not ironic at all, about which she sings, "isn't it ironic?" This makes the song itself sort of ironic, but in a way that was probably not intended. If you like, go and search the YouTube, watch a few of these vids, then come back and finish up here...

A few correct examples:

- A character in Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five, a novel dripping with irony, returns safe from war to find that his friend was killed in a hunting accident at home. "So it goes."

- Shirley Jackson's wonderful short story The Lottery explores mob mentality and destructive traditions in a fictional small town where all the citizens gather annually to draw slips of paper from a box. At the story's conclusion, readers learn that--SPOLER ALERT!--the one with the winning slip gets stoned to death. There is irony in the town's naming their ritual "the lottery," because this usually refers to a contest for cash or some other desirable prize.

- The title character in Forest Gump somehow always comes out on top, despite his low intelligence and complete lack of planning. Of particular note is the fact that the dimwitted neophyte Gump repeatedly saves the life of his leader and mentor, Lieutenant Dan. He literally saves Dan's life in battle, his naive blunder saves the shrimping business they share, and he eventually saves Dan from a downward spiral of depression and self-destructive behavior, inspiring Dan to find a reason to live. Not bad for a guy once deemed borderline retarded, eh?

If you want some fun, everyday examples set to a catchy tune, I recommend this little number by comedian Bo Burnham: (Warning, this song will get stuck in your head, making you spell out I-R-O-N-I-C continually for the next several days.)

Now I'll let you decide. Is it ironic for me to teach literary concepts using silly online videos? If so, that's okay. I'm happy as long as nobody comments, "How ironic! I was just listening to Alanis Morisette this morning," or "Bo Burnham is my favorite funny guy, and U by C is my favorite blog. That's ironic."

Thank you.

Let me tell you how many this bugs me.

Get ready for the next English usage lesson (or, if you find these dull or annoying, just move along). I'll probably do five or six of these. I might take a little break midway through to share some other silliness.

My radio has been playing an ad for a car dealership that claims to measure its success by "the amount of cars we've sold and the amount of people we've made happy." FAIL! You cannot make any amount of people happy, only a number of them. And you can only sell a number of cars.

All morons who do not understand this simple concept, pay attention. I'll try to put it in very simple terms. If you can count something (One, Two, Three...) or someone could ask you how many of that something you have, you quantify it by number. For example, you can speak of the number of chicken wings you ate last night, the number of girls who turned you down for a date, or the number of raccoons that have taken up residence under your porch.

If you can measure something, by volume, weight, or other such quantification, you should speak of it as an amount: the amount of money in your pillowcase, the amount of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your fridge, the amount of lead paint you ate as a child, and so forth. Can someone ask you how much of something you have, as opposed to how many? If so, tell them the amount. This type of quantity can be converted into the numerical type by expressing the amount in terms of discrete units, e.g., how many dollars or how many cans of PBR. This is usually a more awkward expression, however. And please don't ever talk about the amount of dollars you have (remember, counting!) It's number of dollars, amount of money. Most of all, don't ever tell me about the amount of people to whom you've sold cars.

Got it?

Good. That's been bugging me.

Class dismissed.

Knock It Off With the Literally

As you know, here at U by C we feel correct English grammar and usage are important. Tonight I start a series of posts highlighting some common sins against good English. If you feel a sense of deja vu it's because I've written about this stuff before. More needs to be said, though. Call it venting. Call it my attempt to raise awareness. I understand the futility of expecting anyone to improve as a result of a few silly little blog posts. I still have to write this, because people are getting UNDER MY SKIN!

From Snorg Tees

How can so many people fail to realize how stupid they sound saying literally when they mean to say virtually, seemingly, or practically? Even educated, generally articulate people are making this blunder.

No, you idiot, you were not literally blown away by the announcement. You're still standing there.

Don't tell me you will literally die if you have to suffer through one more day of [insert unpleasant situation]. I'm almost certain you'll survive.

There are plenty of ways to add emphasis without claiming something actually happened in a literal sense, when everyone knows this is not the case.

During a recent interview about her role in the musical Rock of Ages, professional dancer-singer-actress-airhead Julianne Hough said:

"Well, what I love about '80s rock music is the amazing, fantastic melodies. In pop music, it's all about the techno beat to dance to in the club and the repetitiveness, whereas in rock music there is literally, like, balls-to-the-wall singing and playing. I love it."

Ms. Hough, the balls-to-the-wall idiom started with aircraft throttle levers or steam engine governors... something like that. Nevermind. It's evolved now into a metaphorical expression. That is, unless you use it literally. Do you mean to say in rock music there are actually balls against a wall, and that's what you love about it?

You're doing people a disservice with these statements. Flula, for example, is a German man trying to master English, and dingbats like you are not making it easy.

In the near future I'll write about other stupid expressions I wish people would quit using. Because some of these, like, literally drive me insane.

Habemus Blogum

A few little things to point out for you today...

I've been updating some of the other pages here at U by C. See those links near the top of this window? If you click on them, there's more stuff for you to read or look at. (Just in case you're interested.)

. . .

I've had this El Guapo guy in my blog roll for about as long as it's existed, but I want to give him special mention right now, because he's been up to some great stuff over at Guapola. He is a smart, funny, creative, haiku- and limerick-writing, surfboard and guitar collecting, cool blog-having guy from New York, married to a lady named Tmwgitu. And he likes to cook. What's more, he gives music recommendations in every post, and he's not afraid to admit he likes ABBA, or to point out flaws in even the greatest artists of our time. (See his recent comments on Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan, for example.) For these reasons, he gets the Unintimidated Seal of Approval, which we don't just hand out to everyone.

Guap, I'll get that seal on its way to you. Do you still have my address, to send the check?

. . .

To round out tonight's updates, I guess it's time for another installment of Stuff George Carlin Said. How about this one:

"No one ever says 'half a week,' although obviously there is such a thing. As in, 'I'll be back in a week and a half.'"

As usual, he's right. What I wonder is who decides this stuff. You can buy half a tank of gas, eat half an apple, drive halfway across Texas, and spend half of your life trying to get Veronica Spillsbury to notice you. You can even go half crazy when she runs off with some other guy, you realize there's still 12 hours of Texas ahead of you, you see half a worm in the remaining apple, or you find you've just spent half of an entire month's budget on 7 gallons of unleaded. But you never do something for half a week, or half a year, do you? Language is a curious thing.

This picture has nothing to do with today's post.
I just thought the blog could use a splash of color.

Don't Look Now, But Your Modifier is Dangling

This might be one of those things that only I find funny, but I'll share it anyway. Check out the sign that recently appeared on the men's room door at my work:

 I swear this is an actual photo, unaltered, and that I did not make up the sign. Apparently, the janitors did.

I'll promise to heed this request and wait until I'm all done being cleaned before using the restroom. Although, that seems like kind of a backwards approach--shouldn't we do our thing in there first, and then get cleaned? Wait a second... who's being cleaned around here, and even more puzzling, who is doing that cleaning?! And WHERE are they doing it, if not in the restroom, forpetesake?!!

I think they meant for us to keep out while the ROOM is cleaned, but just to be sure, I'll stay away when either the room or my body is having anything done to it.

Now, here's the part Paul Harvey would have called The Rest of the Story. I noticed that sign a few days ago and thought I should share it with the world (in case anyone else gets a kick out of this kind of thing). Today I remembered to take my camera to work, so I returned to that restroom, hoping the sign would still be up. On my way there, I saw a similar sign on the ladies' room:

Also a real, unaltered photo

This brings up some questions, like Why is the ladies' sign so much nicer? Do they really deserve a prettier restroom sign, in this age when we are supposed to be striving for equality? Also, since this one is worded more clearly (to us English majors, at least), is there really an error on the other one? Maybe it reads just as intended. I guess it's not important. After thinking about it for a while, dangling modifiers are really no big deal.

Dog Day Off, Platypus Plays the Keytar, etc.

This post is sort of like those weekly grab bags that I used to do about once a month. Except there's no real theme to it, unless you count "unrelated funny stuff that I've come across lately." Lots of kids would say this post is really random, but I won't say that. (Please leave random alone! The poor word is so badly overworked and abused... Please let it rest!)

First off, an entry in Stuff George Carlin Said:

"What do dogs do on their day off? They can't lay around; that's their job."

I heard this and thought, Yeah, he's right. And then, Oh, to be a dog!

This is Cooper, our goldendoodle:

Guardian, protector, and supervisor of all canine tasks, ready to spring into action.

He has zero responsibilities in our household. His food, shelter, and entertainment are provided, free of charge. If he wants to run around or wrestle, he can. (This doesn't happen very often, because he is remarkably lazy). If he wants to sleep 18 hours a day, he can do that. (His usual tendency.) When he gets bored, he watches out the window and barks at our neighbors as they come and go from their own houses, or at innocent passers-by.

Occasionally I say to myself, "Self, maybe Cooper needs to get out for some exercise. It's important for dogs to get plenty of exercise. Let's take him jogging. It'll be good for him." I am not a big runner. In fact, I hate to run. Since it's supposedly good for me too, I've been known to jog once in a while. I say this to give you some perspective on my level of conditioning. Cooper cannot even keep up with me! Our Brittany, Kipper, used to pull me along with the leash, and my wife could skate uphill on her roller blades using him for propulsion. When I take Cooper, I have to pull him. So much for "Dogs need plenty of exercise."

We really should give Cooper a day off once in a while. I just don't know what he'd do with it.

...

I love Venn diagrams. I can't explain this. I like all kinds of charts and graphs, but especially well-designed Venns. I recently encountered one that made me laugh uncontrollably. (I admit I was in a goofy mood at the time.)

Words can only detract from the awesomeness of this diagram.

To me, this is funny on so many levels. If you don't find it funny, I'm not sure I want you around me. If you do, we could probably be best friends. Come up with a Venn better than this, and you will win tremendous respect and admiration from me! I don't know where this originated, but I found it at Leisurefest Destiny, a blog filled with hilarious, sometimes amazing, and sometimes just bizarre pics and vids.

...

One more insanely funny thing that Leisurefest Destiny turned me onto is Flula, a German dude who puts videos on YouTube about his confusion with American idioms. LD reposted the one about Jennifer pooping at parties, but there are lots of other good ones. This is my favorite:

Blogger Went All Korean On Me

I took a little trip to Korea earlier this week, which gave me an opportunity to piggy-back on my last post, about the dual-language signs back home. (I'd been planning that post for a few weeks, but just got around to it at the same time my latest adventures brought new meaning to it.)


After getting settled into the hotel, I fired up my laptop to see if the wi-fi works, send Wifey-san an email, and check some of my favorite blogs. Did you know that a lot of sites, like YouTube (no big deal) and Blogger (kind of a problem) auto-detect your location and set language defaults accordingly? Here's what the top part of my Blogger dashboard looked like:

And the menus? Yeah, they were filled with nonsensical chicken scratchings too. I managed to find the place where you can select your language and got it switched back to English, so I can work my blog again. While surfing around, I come across lots of sites with no letters, just squiggly little characters all over the place.


My friend who's been here a while gave me a cell phone so I can keep in touch.
(In other words, I can call for help when I get hopelessly lost.) I decided to try it out, and guess what? It's a Korean phone. The dialing buttons have regular numbers and letters, plus the little squiggles, but the menu buttons and most of what appears on the screen are all Korean. How do they even read this stuff? I started experimenting, just pushing lots of buttons to see if I could make it do what I want. That didn't work. So my friend showed me what's what on it, and I remembered for about 5 minutes. That was Thursday. I'll probably never make a call with this thing.

We went out for dinner the other night, and it's a good thing I was with people who know how to order at the restaurant, find their way around the city, etc. When you travel to a foreign country, it's helpful to know a few phrases in the local language. Still difficult, but helpful. My Korean is limited to, let's see... exactly zero words. I can't even say, "I'm an American. Please don't hurt me. I'll give you all my money if you show me back to my hotel and leave my kidneys where they are." I sure hope I never get separated from the group.

Un Blog Sobre Idiomas

In the U.S. of A. nowadays, we see lots of stuff written in both English and Spanish. I guess that’s okay, because it helps our immigrants from south of the border. If I were to visit their country, I’d like to see signs and instructions in my language. (I would, of course, try hard to learn theirs if I were staying long-term… just sayin’)

Here’s a sign I saw at a hospital sign-in desk recently:

I wouldn't expect a Spanish speaker to understand terms like “disability” and “ancestry” and “conditions of admission" in English. Since this hospital gets the occasional Hispanic patient, they’re wise to give the instructions in both languages.

Similarly, our local Best Buy store has a sign that warrants translation, because it has some pretty difficult words on it:

But this translation business can go too far. I recently filled out a form that was labeled in both English and French. It asked for lots of basic information, including the following:

Last Name / Nom

First Name / Prenom

Time / Heure

Religion /  Religion

Date / Date

Disposition / Disposition

I’m not sure all of these needed to be translated, but they all were, for the sake of consistency, I guess. Consistency is nice, I just think they could have saved the ink.

Another sign in Best Buy really makes me say "Huh?!" It's over their MP3 and iPod department:

If you can understand no written English at all, I think you could still grasp that “MP3 & iPod” means “MP3 y iPod.” Maybe it isn’t just consistency that drives these decisions. Maybe Best Buy’s reasoning in designing this sign went something like this:

We must translate it into Spanish, or our Hispanic customers will be lost! They’ll search in vain for the MP3s and iPods. They’ll surely give up and leave the store without making a purchase, because in their language, “&” is “y.” No, it’s unacceptable to print only “MP3 & iPod.” We must render it in both languages, replacing the “&” with a “y.”

Good call, Best Buy!




I've just made a long-awaited update to The Bozo List. Check it out!

Early Morning Booty Call From My Sister-In-Law

My lovely wife has sisters scattered all over the country, and she often talks on the phone with them.

Recently, she got a call from one of them at about 7:00 A.M., when we were just starting to wake up. I didn’t hear what they talked about, but it was a very short conversation.

Later, she told me her sister had somehow called by mistake, and it might have been something she terms a 'butt call.'

I said, “A what?” and got ready for an explanation that’s either very interesting or totally confusing. I was a little scared to hear what she meant by 'butt call.'

She clarified: A butt call is what happens when you put the phone in the back pocket of your jeans and your butt pushes the buttons, unintentionally calling someone.

“Oh, of course,” I said, “...but people already have a name for this. It’s a ‘booty call.’”

She insisted this is not what’s meant by 'booty call,' but I know I’m right; butt and booty are synonymous.

I just can’t figure out why we got so many strange looks at church on Sunday when I asked her if she’s had any more early morning booty calls. People need to mind their own business.

… 

Here’s Munchausen by Proxy, featuring the always delightful Zooey Deschanel, who declares in song, “I’m not your late night booty call.” (Apparently, she has friends who aren't careful with their phones.)

Botox, Wireless Mess, and Some Zesty Sauce

Here at Unintimidated, we like to mix it up sometimes. We will unexpectedly change our writing style, for example. Like right now, with the way we're using first person plural pronouns, even though everyone knows there's just one of me.


Something else we like to do is point out things we find amusing. Several weeks ago, we showed you a cookie wrapper that struck us as ridiculous because it used the word "decadent." Here is a little packet of fry sauce with another silly word:

This is actually pretty good, whatever it is. We like BK's foodstuffs.

Exactly what does "zesty" mean? It's a word nobody (and we do mean nobody) ever uses in regular conversation. It is only used to describe things like fry sauce and salad dressing, on their packages and in advertisements. If you are not a sauce maker or advertising person, we'll bet you've never spoken or written "zesty" in your life. Correction: there's one other product it's associated with (sort of), and that's Zest brand soap. "You're not fully clean unless you're Zestfully clean." So the same word that's supposed to tempt us to dip our onion rings in this sauce also encourages us to lather up in the shower. We guess that's okay, as long as we don't get the two products mixed up.




This struck us as ironic and kind of stupid:

Spotted inside the Weber State University library

It's ironic because we usually think computer network upgrades involve replacing clean, quiet electronic devices with slightly more sophisticated clean, quiet electronic devices. If it's a wireless system, what's causing all the commotion? They must be running new cables or something through the building.


When there's remodeling going on, it has become very conventional to put up a sign that says "Pardon our dust," or "Pardon our noise." Here, someone used both. As you should know by now, we're not big fans of stale convention. "Pardon our [whatever]" was clever the first 900 times it was used. Now it's just dumb, like the old, tired "Got [insert your product's name here]?" that everyone under the sun copies from the milk ads. Try to be a little more original, folks!




Here's a clipping from an absurd online banner ad:

This mom now has a newfound zest for life!

Are we supposed to believe that's a real before and after photo? A three dollar "trick" can take your looks from 97-year-old Cardassian to teenage Katie Holmes? Reasonable skepticism is one convention we embrace here.


...


Finally, on an unrelated note, we feel it's time for another edition of Stuff George Carlin Said. This is one of our favorites from him:


"Here's a word you don't see anymore: foodstuffs. I wish it would make a comeback."

We like "foodstuffs" because, although it isn't a necessary word, we feel it has subtleties of meaning that "food" lacks. And we think it's fun to say.

Brevity

Brevity, the art of getting one's point across in as few words as possible, is not one of my strengths, but I'm working on it. William Strunk wrote the book on writing style (literally... it's called The Elements of Style) and always advised his students to "Omit needless words!"

I meet lots of people who could use this counsel.

I think people try to sound more important by using lots of big words. It doesn't work; they just sound awkward.

In an editing class I took a few years ago, we looked at examples of excess wordiness and practiced correcting it. One egregious phrase that stuck in my head from that exercise is "due to the fact that." Why is it so horrible? Because it means the same thing as "because." Any time you can replace five words with one, DO IT! I still cringe every time I read "due to the fact that..."


We don't find wordiness only in writing, but in speech too. I recently heard Dick Cheney give an interview on Laura Ingraham's radio show, in which he made many sins against brevity. Here are a few, followed by my comments:


"...legitimate policy differences, not meant or intended to be personal attacks..."
Really, Sir? They were neither meant nor intended that way? 


"...everybody's desire to want to end the conflict [in Iraq]..."
I wish we could all hope for a stronger inclination to strive for that desire.


"...what was going on in that part of the world at that period of time..."
Here, he used fifteen words when he only needed four: "what was happening there."


Mr. Cheney, I respect you and admire some of your accomplishments, but you're not impressing me with your verbal diarrhea. Jeff Boomhauer is better at getting to the point.

The problem is not just with using too many words, but sometimes too many syllables. I've recently heard the following from friends and coworkers:

• "You're banded to the small desk!" Banded? First of all, the word you want is exiled, not banned. Secondly, it's just banned. You let an extra D sneak in there.
• "We've had way too many incidentses lately." I can see how this one arose. It's a hybrid of incidents and instances. These are both valid words, but you can't put them together and expect intelligent listeners to take you seriously.
• "I got all the names you asked for and the other data, and I collagated them." This is my favorite! Collagated? Isn't that a brand of toothpaste? You can use it to polish your saxomophone.

I could go on and on, but that would be ironic, something this blog is not meant or intended to be.

...

Love my blog but want more cowbell? Wish I would fall into an abyss, or at least throw my laptop in? Feel I should have chosen 12 pt. Arial instead of 14 pt. Verdana? Comment below! I’m not a mind reader.

Not Decadent, Just Yummy

I’m puzzled by the use of decadent to describe things like rich desserts and spa treatments. Granted, it’s technically correct according to the word’s second definition in my e-dictionary: “luxuriously self-indulgent,” but the first definition is “characterized by or reflecting a state of moral or cultural decline,” and my Webster’s gives only one meaning, similar to this. To me, decadence suggests reckless, hedonistic gratification, like a house party attended by Metallica, or a typical night for a New York Governor.

So I always chuckle when I see something like this…

Someone gave us a whole box of these, and they are delicious. But decadent? Come on, Mrs. Field! Decadent stuff happened at the Moulin Rouge cabaret. The Playboy mansion is a decadent place. Things get decadent backstage at a Mötley Crüe concert. It is not decadent for suburban Utah housewives, straight-laced bloggers, and our young children to eat your chocolate grahams in .7-ounce doses. I mean, it says right on the wrapper that they have only 100 calories and no trans fat. How can that same wrapper call its contents decadent?

I’m picturing a TV commercial with a sultry brunette in a flowing red gown who rolls her eyes back as she nibbles these beside a Mediterranean villa. Then, just before it ends, the narrator says “Also an excellent source of fiber.”

I guess I’d accept the “decadent” adjective on the wrapper if there were a serving suggestion on the back that reads, “Best when dipped in butter, caramel, and cocaine." Or maybe, "Try Mrs. Field's chocolate grahams in a hot bubble bath, in Xanadu."

Either You Are, or You're Not

Yesterday, Momma looked closely at the face of our almost-14-year-old daughter and asked, “Are you wearing eye liner?” (Per our rules, she shouldn’t yet.) The response: “A little.” This isn’t really a valid answer for a yes/no question. Actually, it’s an answer, but it’s the same as “yes.”

It’s sort of like pregnancy—you can’t be barely pregnant, or somewhat pregnant, or extremely pregnant. It’s binary; you’re in one of two discrete states. Black or white, no shades of gray.*

I'd guess not, and definitely not.

While reading a Rachel Ray magazine recently, Momma kept asking me to look up various cooking terms and ingredients. We like good food but don't have a strong culinary vocabulary. She asked me, “What’s EVOO?” I checked the e-dictionary on my MacBook and replied, “Oh, of course! Extra Virgin Olive Oil.” You have regular olive oil, and the virgin kind. But wait… there’s also EXTRA virgin.

How can something be more or less virgin than something else? I’m honestly not sure whether I came up with this in my own head or heard it from some stand-up comedian, but I’m picturing a brand of olive oil that advertises itself as SUPER ULTRA virgin—it has never so much as spoken to a man. (If it’s not my original thought and you know who said it, please let me know so I can credit him.) “Mother Teresa Brand. You won’t find anything more virgin.”

Maybe it’s different with oil, but when we’re talking about people, you either are or you’re not. There’s no sort-of. And we want Sarah to stay on the right side of that line. To that end, we impose rules, like the one about eye makeup. Because we don’t want her to get even a little bit pregnant.


* A binary (yes/no) question is one that can be answered with a single transistor, a light switch, or Roger Ebert's thumb.

Weekly Grab Bag No.1: Please Don’t Call Me Random

A collection of short comments—things I find funny or interesting enough to mention but not worthy of a whole blog entry individually. I'll probably do this about once a week. The theme of this set is linguistics.

 

In arbitrary order...

• I like to use arbitrary to mean “following no particular pattern.” I think it’s better than random, in my opinion one of our most overused words.

•  I had a friend from South Africa who always said, “Howzit?” for an informal greeting. (Short for “How’s it going?”) It works the same as “Wassup?” but I think it has a better ring to it. Packs more punch. I’d like to see it come into popular use. I’m also considering starting a new one of my own invention: “Cape?” It’s short for ¿Que Pasa? It could become a big hit in the Southwest or anyplace with a strong Hispanic presence, and you can say you heard it here first.

•  George Carlin wrote, “You rarely run into a damsel anymore.” He’s right. I can’t recall the last time I saw one.

• Another term we don’t use much anymore: fortnight. I don’t know why it’s slipped into disfavor. I mean, most of us are paid fortnightly, and it’s a nice interval between a week and a month. It’s just gone the way of the score, as in “four score and seven years ago.” That gives me an idea… What if we use “four score fortnights” when we want to talk about a period of just over three years? We probably won’t say it very often, but when we do we’ll sure sound fancy! I actually did the math and found that fourscore fortnights works out to three years, three months, three weeks, and three days (when it spans a leap year). I’ve been looking for a chance to deploy it in normal conversation. My friends will ask, “Four what?” and I’ll explain. Then there will be no doubt of my creativity and intelligence, or my abundance of free time.

• Lately, my favorite kind of bird is the Grackle, partly because I like how its name sounds, but mostly because I read a beautiful poem by Robert Penn Warren called “Grackles, Goodbye.” I love how every line of this poem sounds (and feels). I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a real Grackle, or that I’d know it if I did, but that doesn’t matter. Such is the power of poetry.

• Here’s a fun word: Humdinger. Its synonyms, according to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, include bee’s knees, crackajack, jim-dandy, and ripsnorter. You don’t have to be over 70 to use these terms, but it helps.

And now, because I believe every blog post should have a little splash of color... here is a gratuitous photo of my friend's copper watering can in the shape of a chicken. (I think she uses it to water her eggplants.) If you're asking yourself, "Self, why would he put that photo here?" then my answer to both of you is, "Where else would I put a chicken-shaped watering can? If not for the grab bag post, it would just rot in my hard drive, never getting a chance to grace your retinas." I told you this blog would sometimes be pointless.

   

Love my blog but want more cowbell? Wish I would fall into an abyss, or at least throw my laptop in? Feel I should have chosen 12 pt. Arial instead of 14 pt. Verdana? Comment below! I’m not a mind reader.