April 23, 2010 · 7:55 am

Imagine my expression

How many of us middle-agers have uttered a phrase in younger company that they couldn’t visualize?  For instance, “you sound like a broken record.”  Huh?

Have you noticed how some once-everyday expressions have achieved obsolescence before our very ears?

There’s a bar in my son’s college town called The Flip Side.  I’ve wondered if patrons know the old single records had two sides, Side A and “the flip side.”  Of course, considering many college kids have embraced records after all these years, this one may be legit.

Having only recently gotten rid of a television that had an actual dial, I don’t think “don’t touch that dial” seems that far off.  But the concept is.  Who cares if the viewer touches the dial?  He’s probably TiVoing another show anyway.

When was the last time you “dialed” a telephone number?  Even if it’s been 30 years, I am betting the voice mail greetings of three out of five of those over a certain age instruct callers needing immediate assistance to “dial zero.”

“Go ahead and talk, it’s your dime” is right up there with “I’ll call you tonight; will you be home?”

There have got to be more.  So shift into high gear and share any obsolete expressions that turn your crank.

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April 22, 2010 · 7:37 am

Stop her before she crafts again

Our beloved Erma Bombeck left us 14 years ago today and oh, how we miss her.  In honor of this talented, yet humble icon–who entertained readers with stories of everyday situations–I’d like to pause today to share a personal story of my own:

When will I learn?  I have no aptitude for crafts.  Granted, my first paying job was at a yarn store.  I was hired after, desperate for the job, I overstated my knowledge of knitting, crocheting, embroidery, cross-stitch, crewel, latch-hook and macramé.  Despite my best efforts to learn, my yarn career didn’t last long, especially with seasoned needle-workers coming in to the store seeking tutelage on elaborate projects. 

I don’t decoupage.  I can’t even frame a lousy picture.  The problem is, I have great ideas—grand visions for craft projects.  I can visualize an extraordinary outcome but lack the ability to execute ordinary steps. 

Case in point:  I had the brilliant idea to take a 25-year-old clipping from my college newspaper and create a plaque for a former classmate.  I bought the wood, the glue, the shellac and a good brush.  I picked up a fancy hanger to affix to the back so she could display this memento in her home.  I was so heavy handed with both the glue and shellac that they bled through the faded newsprint, rendering the article and its photo indiscernible.  This also rendered the shellac unable to dry.  Problem was, it was to be a birthday gift at a party taking place at Morton’s Steakhouse that night.  I set the plaque outdoors so it would dry and the toxic odor would fade.  No dice.  With no other choice, I slipped it gingerly into a gift bag and took it to Morton’s.  I set it by my feet during dinner, pretending to ignore the strong odor.  When the time came for gifts, I handed my friend the bag.  As she pulled out the wet, sticky plaque, the dining room filled with noxious fumes.  She looked at the plaque, politely trying to figure out what the heck was glued to it.  She flipped it over.  She and I both noticed that the hanger had been nailed in upside down.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Recently I went to the craft store with another vision, a personalized tote bag for my mother to carry her medical files around to her various doctors.  I purchased a pretty pink canvas bag and some iron-on lettering for adorning the bag with cute and inspiring phrases.   I was a little heavy handed with the iron.  Ironed the whole bag shut.

As if my failed projects aren’t reminder enough of my deficit, I think I saw the security guard at Michael’s tacking my picture up on their Do Not Craft list.

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April 21, 2010 · 7:41 am

Let’s talk for a moment about “momentarily”

If the pilot announces, “we will be in the air momentarily,” it means you’re going to crash.

If the waiter assures you, “your food will be here momentarily,” it means you’d better eat fast.

If you are told “a customer service representative will be with you momentarily,” it means she won’t have much time to assist you.

If the theater manager says “doors will open momentarily,” you’d better hope you’re at the front of the line.

“Momentarily” means “for a moment” or “briefly,” not “in a moment” or “soon.”  You may disagree, lots of people do—usually the ones who use it incorrectly or who quote a source that has just plain given up and added the erroneous definition.

I won’t be surprised by comments that cite sources accepting “in a moment” as an acceptable definition.  It happens all the time.  I once lost a bet with someone when I claimed “irregardless” wasn’t a word and that it couldn’t be found in the dictionary.  I placed my bet, looked it up and there it was:  “irregardless:  an incorrect use of regardless.”  As with “sherbert,” some sources have just shrugged their shoulders and looked the other way.

But I am fair and have an open mind.  If you do disagree with me, feel free to state your case.  I will listen to you momentarily.

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April 20, 2010 · 7:32 am

A game of imagination

Hey kids, it’s game time again.  Look and listen around you for misuse of the word “literally,” then take a moment to consider the image.  The following are examples my friends, family and I have heard over the years.  They have been stashed away in an imaginary treasure chest, until now.

“Our salesmen are literally walking encyclopedias.”

“I was literally glued to the television.”

“Books were literally flying off the shelves.”

“The words literally jumped off the page.”

“I was literally caught with my pants down.”

Ah, and to discover there’s a blog devoted solely to misuse of the word that, while not updated in a few months, illustrates (literally!) what such phrases would look like, including “he literally charmed the pants off of everyone,” as well as a spokesperson’s comment about Sarah Palin, “the world is literally her oyster.”  Take a look and let’s hope the blogger resumes soon with regular posts.

If you’ll excuse me, I literally have to fly.

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April 19, 2010 · 7:46 am

Malaprop Monday

You could have knocked me over with a 10-foot pole.

That’s not only a real life example, but also my reaction every time I hear a really good malapropism or mixed metaphor.  For whatever reason, my life’s path has been graced by many a modern day Mrs. Malaprop who, God love her, utters well-intentioned phrases with a twisted tongue.  

We know Mrs. Malaprop as the 18th century character in Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s play, The Rivals, who personified the habit of inadvertently swapping a word for one with a similar sound, rendering the phrase nonsensical or, more often, really funny.

Everyone knows a Mrs. (or Mr.) Malaprop.

I will never forget one walking into my office distraught; she said tests showed she had fiber-optic tumors.   I thought to myself, ooh, that must be painful.

The same woman once told of a colleague who gave a speech at a conference.  I think what she intended to say was that, after the speech, attendees flocked around him.  Instead, she said his speech was so successful the audience flogged him.

A top executive at that same company once reported that her business unit was making money hand over foot.

Recently, as I discussed this topic with my husband, he confessed to his own high profile slip.  In a division memo on Safety at Sea he reported that, during a shipboard mission, a well known oceanographer was hospitalized after having lost the majority of his hand in a winch (a device used to adjust the tension of a rope or cable).  What’s the malapropism, you ask?  My husband reported that Dr. Smith lost his hand in a wench.

Malapropisms are also associated with mixed metaphors and nothing titillates a word nymph more than a good mixed metaphor.

I once heard “Don’t burn your bridges before they’re hatched” while trying desperately not to picture a bridge being hatched.  Talk about painful.

If you have a favorite malapropism or mixed metaphor you’d like to share, I’ll be here, holding my bated breath.

Note:  Also akin to malapropisms are mondegreens, phrases that are often misheard or misunderstood.  But let’s save those for the next time we talk about (you guessed it!) song lyrics.

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April 17, 2010 · 8:16 am

Poetic license suspension

It’s tough duty being a fan of good word usage and classic rock. 

I spent my formative years in front of the radio, appreciating the Great Poets of my time—Elton John, Jackson Browne, James Taylor and Bonnie Raitt, to name a few.  To this day, the lyrics of the 60s and 70s occupy most of my cranial hard drive, leaving room for little else.

While so many of the classic lyrics are nothing short of pure poetry, there are some that still assault my ears like teeth on a fork.  I am betting you have a few examples of your own.

Now I’m not talking about the obvious no-no’s that give rock music its character.  This may come as a surprise, but I’ve got no beef with “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.”  “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” happens to be one of my favorite songs ever.  And a phrase from The Vogues’ “Five O’Clock World” — “livin’ on money I ain’t made yet” — has become my personal tagline.

Further, I have less of a problem with liberties taken to force a meter or a rhyme than I do lyrics that their writers assumed correct, or likely deemed smart-sounding.  If only for their place just under the radar, there is a small sampling of well-known lines that mustn’t in good conscience go unchallenged.

So, at the risk of offending fellow fans of some of the greatest artists of my generation, I must take issue with:

“Touch Me” by the Doors – “til the stars fall from the sky for you and I”

“Heard It in a Love Song” by the Marshall Tucker Band – “I was born a wrangler and a rounder and I guess I always will”

“Live and Let Die” by Paul McCartney – “But if this ever-changing world in which we live in…”

I plan to someday write in this forum about lyrics I do find poetic and will ask you to share your favorites, irrespective of the genre.

But for now, what’s your lyrical peeve?

Reminder:  Word Nymph rests on Sunday but welcomes (and reads) your comments.

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April 16, 2010 · 7:54 am

Boogie on down the road

We’ve taken a lot of road trips lately, Rosebud and I.  I’ve never been one to name an inanimate object such as a car or anything else, but iTunes makes you give your iPod a name when you register it.  Anyway, mine’s Rosebud; I’ll just trust everyone knows the origin.

In the car I have been listening to Rosebud’s entire song list, more than 1,000 songs in all, in alphabetical order.  No play lists, genre affinities or artist groupings.  I am enjoying the way in which the random play renders no noticeable theme or pattern, except that multiple songs begin with the same word. 

Yesterday, songs beginning with “Boogie” carried me a good long way down the New Jersey Turnpike.  Which got me thinking.  Now that I have overanalyzed my magazine rack, and enjoyed the comments on yesterday’s post, I will turn to search for meaning in my MP3.

Does the fact that 61 songs on my iPod begin with “I” or “my” but only 31 begin with “you” or “your” make me an egoist?  Does the fact that I have as much Mormon Tabernacle Choir as I do heavy metal make me schizophrenic?

What other words dominate my song titles?  Setting aside “how,” “what,” “when,” “where,” subordinating conjunctions and other minor words, I watched for a theme to emerge.   “Love” popped most prominently but that’s no surprise.  Except on the devices of a few evil souls, Love dominates everyone’s iPod.  So let’s take Love out of the equation, just for balance.

What’s left in my top five?  “Boogie” to be sure, along with “dance,” “rock,” “crazy” and “bad.”

In the absence of any logical conclusion, I leave it to Avril Lavigne, who sums it up aptly in “Anything but Ordinary,” as she observes, “Sometimes I get so weird, I even freak myself out.”

Note:  After another brief look at song lyrics tomorrow, Word Nymph will turn to another topic.  At least until she is On the Road Again.

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April 15, 2010 · 8:03 am

Artifact check

A few months ago I threw out a question from my Facebook:  “What is the strangest combination of foods you’ve eaten when unusually low on groceries?”  The replies were hilarious.   

So here’s another one. 

Everyone has a magazine rack or basket of reading material in at least one room of the house.  In a shared space, it might contain material of interest to multiple household members.  I recently contemplated what the one in our house might reveal about our family if it were discovered after our hypothetical demise (or, less morbidly, what a passing stranger might learn).  I challenge you to do the same.

What is in your magazine rack and what, anthropologically speaking, might it say about you or your family?

I will start the bidding off with:  a book of New York Times crossword puzzles, Lake News by Barbara Delinsky (been there for seven years with a bookmark about 75 pages from the end), two back issues of Vanity Fair, a country ham catalog, the current issue of Playboy and A 40-Day Lenten Journey with Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  You tell me.

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April 14, 2010 · 6:58 am

Did you want to ask me that again?

Here is another grammatical trend I am betting you haven’t noticed but, once you do, you’ll hear it everywhere.  I hear it in restaurants all the time.

I say, I’d like a cup of coffee, please.”  The server asks, “Did you want cream?”

I reply “yes” but in my head I am sarcastically responding, “Yes, I DID and I still DO.”

When did we move from “Would you like” to “Did you want?”

Yes, I did want fries with that and, once that burger comes off the grill, I am pretty sure I will still want them.

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April 13, 2010 · 7:41 am

Sort of a verbal pause

I’ve written before about generational shifts in language.  If this topic interests you, here’s a parlor game you can play at home alone or out with friends.  Count the number of times someone says “sort of” in conversation or a television or radio interview.

In everyday speech, we are all prone to using a verbal pause now and again, usually the “um” or “uh” that comes between words in a spoken sentence.   As with hemlines, forms of verbal pause change with the times. 

In the 1970s, “you know” was the verbal pause of the decade.  For example, “I was doing my homework, you know, and I couldn’t do this long division problem, you know, so I called Cindy, you know, and she told me how to do it.”  I became aware of this at an early age because sloppy language was not tolerated in our home.  We had what was called the You-Know bell.  Whenever any of us used “you know” as a verbal pause, my father rang the You-Know bell.  Whoever said it the most won the You-Know bell prize.  But I digress.

In the ’80s it was “like,” as in “Nancy and I were like so into Bonnie Raitt that we were like listening to her albums over and over like every night.”

I first noticed “sort of” in the late 1990s in a meeting of senior U.S. government officials and prominent industry executives.  “Sort of” is a bit more refined than its predecessors.  In fact, at the time I first tuned in to it, it seemed more a verbal tiptoe than a pause.  Here’s how it might have been used around the conference table that day.  “We need a policy framework that sort of gives companies sort of an incentive to offer innovative products while allowing them to sort of achieve sort of a reasonable return on their investment.”  This wasn’t exactly it but illustrates how “sort of” was not used to mean “a kind of” or “a little bit” but rather, was a simple substitution for “uh” or “um.”

“Sort of” has spread like wildfire, showing no signs of dying down even in this decade.  I hear it every day.  Recently Jennifer Love Hewitt was on the Today show promoting her new book.  I lost count of how many times she said it.  Disappointingly, I’ve noticed prominent cable news anchors have picked it up.

“Sort of” is a slight improvement over “like,” to be sure.  But once your ear is attuned to it, it becomes annoying to the point of distraction.

On second thought, forget this parlor game.  It’ll drive you sort of nuts.

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