Daniel E Wolf
Mostly from Merriam Webster’s Dictionary, words of interest or note.
I know, I know. You’re all anxiously awaiting pix from our recent road trip. And believe me when I tell you, it’s coming, it’s coming. Please be patient. In the meantime, here are a few memes including today’s WOTD, coddiwomple. Appropriate for road tripping, as are the literature selections from Kerouac / McCarthy. Enjoy.
OK, etymology fans: Today’s WOTD post is for you. Also for those who do the NYT crossword daily and love a devlishly hard Saturday solve (subscribers only, see here). And also for those who spent way too much time watching TV in the late ’80’s. Everybody else? You get the day off. Lucky you.
In today’s NYT crossword puzzle, the clue for 34-across is “MacGyvering.” And the 11-letter answer is today’s WOTD, “juryrigging.” For those of a certain age who loved watching Richard Dean Anderson play the hero of this series on TV back in the day, this one’s a gimme.
MacGyver was a famously resourceful fictional sleuth best known for fabricating ingenious devices out of common household materials. You know, like constructing a completely functional atom bomb from a foil gum wrapper and Clorox. Well, maybe not quite that ingenious. But there are eight real life examples – many of which involve duct tape – here. My favorite? DIY teargas from cayenne pepper, vinegar, and baking soda – believe it or don’t. But word to the wise: Next time you’re trapped behind enemy lines with only common kitchen supplies at your disposal, this one might just be a lifesaver.
Anyway, the reason we know the answer to 34A isn’t “jerryrigging” is that we’d need a 12th letter for that to fit. This set me to thinking about “jury-rigging” versus “jerry-rigging,” The differences are subtle, but real. If you’re deep into etymology, you can get the full story, here. If not – or maybe you’re just averse to clicking – the Cliff Notes version can be found below.
Bottom line? When used in this way, “jury” is a nautical term, not a legal one. And “jerry” has nothing to do with the slur for “Germans” from the WW1-and-2 era.
A jury-rig is a temporary solution created with the materials at hand. In some cases, a jury-rig may be poorly put together, but that sense isn’t part of the definition. Jury-rigs can be clever, innovative, and impressive. If something is jerry-built, however, it’s poorly constructed by definition.
So, there you have it, etymology fans. And now it’s time for me to get back to constructing a hot air balloon out of duct tape and…. Oops, sorry folks: I guess maybe you’ll have to click the link to find out what else you’ll need next.
Happy MacGyvering, y’all!
Today’s WOTD (Word of the Day) is “epiphany.” You don’t have to be a hard core Anglican like me to know the meaning of this word. In a nutshell, it’s a fancy way to say “enlightenment.” Even my two or three faithful Buddhist readers know all about that. And as a literary construct it’s a time-tested staple of much fiction, as well as non-fiction too for that matter. But that’s another post for another day.
Epiphanies come in all shapes and sizes, from big to small. You know, like <while frantically searching through piles of household detritus> “Oh, so THAT’S where I left my keys/gloves/scarf.” Or <while happily munching a breakfast bagel with cream cheese>, “Oh, so THAT’S why I put on ten pounds in January. ” Or even like, “Oh, so THAT’S why the GOP seems hellbent on self-destruction this electoral cycle.” Like I said , “all shapes and sizes.” Ahem.
What you may not know if you’re not a hard core Anglican like me – especially if you’re a lapsed Catholic or (god forbid) a Baptist – is that the Feb. 2nd feast of Candlemas which falls forty days after Christmas is the last of the Epiphany season celebrations of the church year. And if you’re insatiably curious, you can read all about that on Wikipedia, here.
I mentioned big and small epiphanies earlier, and my favorite Lutheran pastor, Nadia Boltz-Weber, had a wonderful meditation on that last night from St. John’s Cathedral in Denver. You can view it at the sjc’s website here. Or read it at Nadia’s own website, here. Nobody’s got a gun to your head on this one, folks, but if you try it out, you might find yourself pleasantly surprised. Just sayin’.
So then, what’s the enlightened bottom line on epiphanies both big and small? Hell if I know. But I will say this much: The aha-moment of realization that comes when we finally uncover our lost keys/gloves/scarf, or when we finally put 2-and-2 together stepping on the bathroom scale first thing in the morning, is probably something we really knew in our heart of hearts all along. We just forgot about it temporarily – however conveniently or inconveniently, as the case may be.
As for ill-advised electoral choices? You’ll have to make the call on that one, dear reader. “Search your heart of hearts” is all I’m gonna say. Hey, it’s an election year after all.
Now, where did I put those keys? 🙂
On this bitter cold January day, the WOTD is ‘apropos.” It means “very appropriate to a particular situation.” From Merriam-Webster:
Apropos wears its ancestry like a badge — or a beret. From the French phrase à propos, meaning “to the purpose,” the word’s emphasis lands on its last syllable, which ends in a silent “s”: \ap-ruh-POH.
Found this one on FB. I am not exactly sure why the image seems to fit so well with the quote; but somehow, it does.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
Today’s Word of the Day (WOTD) is “repent.” This means, literally, “turn around.” And today’s Public Service Announcement is brought to you jointly by the Wyoming Dept. of Transportation (WYDOT)… and John the Baptist.
I mention John because today’s the 25th of December and that marks the end of the penitential liturgical season of Advent which was the Baptist’s heyday. It’s also the beginning of the 12 Days of Christmas leading up to Epiphany on January 6th – but that’s really only relevant if you’re Anglican, like me.
Most of us trust our GPS implicitly, just as most of us place great faith in our own moral compass. But the Baptist’s message – “repent” – flies in the face of auto-directed wisdom. I’ll leave it to you to mull that over in your own quiet moments. But as for me, I have found John’s direction to be both trustworthy and true.
Everybody thinks they have a good grip on things, and that their own sh*it doesn’t stink. But everybody’s got an a**hole and, at least in the broad strokes, everybody is wrong about the stink part. Do you doubt it? Let me share a vignette to illustrate. Maybe that’ll help you reconnoiter (literally, “think again”).
A long-time friend of mine who calls herself a Buddhist had this to say on social media about Christmas: “If Christian mythology would have featured the birth of a brown baby girl, can you imagine how much hate, racism & misogyny the world would have been spared? I love myth stories, twinkly lights & a month-long glut of excessive eating as much as anyone, but for my money… once we’ve reached the age of four, believing in & talking to an imaginary friend who we feel can assist us isn’t charming. It’s psychotic.”
Eating disorders aside, that’s some pretty tough rhetoric right there – and also misguided, IMHO. The problem isn’t the content of the mythology, per se. And by that I mean that substituting “brown baby girl” for the usual inhabitant of our Christmas creche may satisfy a progressive’s sense of political correctness, but it does nothing to ameliorate the fundamental flaw in the human heart that leads many to “hate, racism, and misogyny.” And also, I might add, leads some to a misplaced sense of self-righteousness. C.S. Lewis called this “the problem of pride.” By that he meant, basically, the sense that our own sh*t doesn’t stink – while everyone else’s does.
It doesn’t take a mathematician to figure out that, with 2.38 billion Christians worldwide, that’s a whole lot more “psychosis” floating around this planet than most of us are willing to own up to or than most psychoanalysts are willing to diagnose. (It also lets most Buddhists off the hook, but let’s not go there.) The fact is, there is such a thing in this world as psychosis, and also, way too much hate-racism-misogyny. But to lay all of that at the feet of belief in an “imaginary friend who we feel can assist us” is short-sighted at best, and perhaps something a whole lot worse.
Both my friend and I have had our struggles over the years. And both of us have come through the fire intact, albeit with our share of scars. Neither of us did so alone. Both of us had lots of help. My own feeling on the matter is this: Whatever works, baby. And also this: We get by with a little help from our friends, “imaginary” or otherwise. But mostly, my bottom line is this: I’ve got an a**hole just like you. Our major point of difference is this: I’m not so proud as to think that mine’s the only one without stink. Nope. Sorry. You, me, and that baby born in a stable? We all share a smell that’s integral to the human condition, and is the consequence of having a functional digestive tract. Believe it or don’t. But please, spare me the “It’s all the fault of an un-PC mythology.” I won’t call that “psychotic,” exactly. But it is missing the mark by a wide margin.
Last word goes to Fredrick Buechner, whose quote I really like.
Alright, I lied. Last word goes to history.com whose story of the Christmas Truce of 1914, here, harks back to a time when such an extravagantly merciful thing as a soccer game in no-man’s-land was still possible. In a world full of hate-racism-misogyny – along with wars and rumors of wars – may it ever be so.
Oh, and also this:
Repent (turn around), and reconnoiter (think again).
You can say you heard it here first.
Merry Christmas, y’all.
According to People magazine in a story here, the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) has released its 2023 winner of “Word of the Year.” And the winner is… “rizz.”
Dictionary publisher Oxford University Press defines the viral term “rizz” – short for charisma – as “someone’s ability to attract another person through style, charm, or attractiveness.”
“Rizz” beat out “Swiftie” for Word of the Year by a narrow margin. I don’t have to explain to any of you what the latter word means since practically everyone on the planet already knows it.
Going forward, I’d say I’m a whole lot more apt to use “Swiftie” in a sentence than I am to use “rizz.” But maybe that’s just me? How about it, folks? You have any alternatives to either of these words to suggest to the OED for Word of the Year? Other contenders in the running this year (besides “Swiftie”) were:
Beige Flag
Prompt
Situationship
De-influencing
Heat Dome
Parasocial
I leave it to you to go click the link above if you’re curious about the definitions of any of these others. For the record, I looked it up, and NONE of these have ever been used in any post on dewconsulting.net. Ah well. I have been called many things, but nobody’s ever accused me of being cutting edge.
Today’s Word of the Day (WOTD) is “melee,” which means…
Well, you know dang well what it means, pardner.
Next, apropos of nothing, this fine example of a highland cow.
Last but not least…
…the answer to “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?”
From xkcd.
For Ben.
“Nigh” is just an old-timey word for “near.” So, when I say, “The time is nigh,” you know exactly what I mean. “Time for what,” I hear you ask? Well, for one thing, you know the time for retirement is drawing nigh when you identify viscerally with the following.
Of course, I’ve felt that way for at least the past 10 or 15 years and it didn’t stop me from staying employed – at least, employed as a consultant. Hence this website – dewconsulting.net – which provides me with an outlet for the snarkiest of my worldly observations far from the prying eyes of HR managers everywhere.
But now that my UMG contract is almost up (@ the end of this month), retirement has definitely drawn nigh. So, I’m left with the following dilemma: Continue to blog? Or hang up these spurs? I guess another option might be to re-brand. In that vein, which of the following tickle your fancy for wit and wisdom in a post-dewconsulting world?
Hmmmm….
NobodysHuckleberry.com
Kinda has a nice ring to it, doncha think?
Good morning from Pachamama Coffee.
“Sí se puede” is the motto of the United Farm Workers of America. Loosely translated, it means “Yes, we can.” UFW co-founder Dolores Huerta came up with the slogan in 1972. It has long been a UFW guiding principle serving to inspire accomplishment of goals.
I am here at Pachamama today for a couple of reasons. One is to use their wi-fi. Running my mobile hotspot all month from a remote location has pushed me over the Xfinity data threshold for throttling down, thus making the connection effectively unusable. Ah, the things we do for love – and gainful employment.
Two, the Keller Interiors floor installer is ripping carpet off the stairs and putting down new flooring today, thus making the main (upstairs) living area of 392 Midstream effectively inaccessible. Getting the step risers to the proper height and depth (read: within code) is a major undertaking, or so they tell me. At $100 a step, it better be.
Three, it’s Saturday and that means Midtown Farmers Market is just a half block away. There’s produce. There are flowers. There’s Naan Tikka. If I’m feeling naughty, there’s even Upper Crust Baking Company. Be still, my beating heart – and my A1C.
Last but certainly not least, it’s a lovely day out. It was 58 degrees on the porch this morning as I sipped my coffee. That’s the first time since we went to the Mendocino coast that I’ve needed to wear my sweatshirt. I can’t begin to tell you how good that feels this time of year here in the hot-hot-hot Central Valley.
I also can’t begin to tell you how great it feels to be 99% done with painting. And having the flooring installed, with new bedroom carpet coming Monday, gives me great hope for the future. A realtor walkthrough is scheduled for Tuesday. Flight home to Denver is Wednesday. In a word: YES, WE CAN! Or, as Dolores Huerta might say, “Si Se Puede.”
Today? It’s an epic meme day. My favorite? The haiku. Why? Well, for one thing, who knew that the word “tired” (or as we like to say around here, “tard”) has two syllables. Certainly not me.
Enjoy your day, folks.
“Tard” or not, let’s make it a good one.
