Category: A Very Short Story

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Who ever thought that a single word like “please”, in context, could be so humorous?  Yet Henny Youngman made a comedic career out of four simple words and a pregnant pause: “Take my wife….. please” (Youngman).  Yes, the word “timing” says it all.

Now take the word “value”….please.  How I hate this word.  There are so many variations to the theme that surround this word that any smart minded non English speaking immigrant to our country would think twice about trying to learn or understand the English language.  For example, an individual or group’s perception of worth, based upon personal or collective experiences in a shared environment can only define or measure “value”.  “Value”” is illusive, as there are more perceptions of “value” out there are there are cars on the road…

Let me try to exemplify exactly what I mean here:

In 2005, I picked up my dear ole mother’s car: a 1979 Mercury Zephyr, something akin to a Falcon or Fairmont – Ford only knows.  My mother could not drive anymore. She was 91 for heaven’s sake.  Anyway, the car had about 56,000 kilometers on the O.D.  Mint condition! Lime green with a sickly, yellowed tan interior.

Now the market “value” of that car in 1979 was $6,500.00. Twenty-six years later the book “value” was about zilch. The insured “value” – who knows, but the assessed “value” was about $3,000.00 and climbing, as long as it didn’t disintegrate during the long hard winters.  Its “value” would continue to rise in “value”” as long as its condition remains, well, “valuable.”

Obviously my mother held considerable sentimental “value” in that automobile.  As I pulled away from the big city for the drive back to my home town, I came to understand the hereditary “value” of this gift to me and the intrinsic “value” of the trust she placed in me to take good care of Betsy.

I made it back home in one piece although the water pump went out around some god forsaken country hick town.  Between that and thinking about the local Elvis sightings, I was beginning to ponder the meaning of life and the mechanical “value” of the car; the emotional “value” that this machine may have had and its effect on my own sense of “value” and well being. 

Arriving home I thought about its economical “value” as it had taken over a tank of gas to cover the 300 miles from the really big city to my hometown.  Had I been taken for a ride?  Were there aspects of this car that were known only to my mother, the parish priest, her hairdresser and the bagger at her local supermarket?  I had to contemplate its utility “value” considering the other two cars I had. 

Yet, thinking of my dear ole mother and somewhat excited about the possibility of getting perhaps $3,000.00 for the car’s assessed “value”, I thought hmmm, but quickly shook any thought of that out of my mind for if I “valued” my life I dared not even think about selling dear ole Betsy.

Trying to define “value” can be problematic, which in itself is an extremely overused word.  It’s like common sense.  Something that is taken for granted yet is extremely rare in today’s world.  And trying to make sense out of “value” as in “What are your values?” as opposed to someone else’s values is like an academia nut trying to make sense out of common sense and coming up with pure nonsense.

Continuing on….

Words are not enough when communicating.  Context and understanding are crucial. Without context confusion arises to the point of ridiculousness.  Let me try to illustrate this by something that I learned in school:

Take the word “nit.” The Concise Oxford English Dictionary defines “nit” as a stupid person, a louse.  Then add the letter “k” before the “n” and you have “knit.” Yet the word “nit” from the word “knit” is a whole different kettle of fish.  And what is that anyway: a kettle of fish?

Now, let’s take the word “wit:” defined as someone with a sharp sense of humour, a player of words perhaps.  As in “that man possesses wit.  He has a sharp mind.” But then add the letter “t” before the “w” and you have “twit.”  Or, combine the word “nit” with the word “wit” and you have a “nitwit.” But “nit” and “twit” together does not sound quite right – “nit-twit?”

Nonetheless, given that a “nit” is already defined as a stupid person, and “wit” is someone who has a sharp mind, then “nitwit” defiles all logic in a descriptive sense except perhaps to define someone who possesses a stupid “wit” – which in itself is oxymoronic.  But “dimwit” already has that locked up.  Yet what is really frustrating about the undercurrent of this word is that “dimwit” is the opposite of someone who has a sharp “wit.”   So, that being the case, let’s call him or her a “blunt-sharp” person!

To make matters worse a “twit” could be someone who has a sharp “wit,” and is still a “nitwit” or a “dimwit.”  So why can’t we call him or her a nit-twit?  Or a “dim-twit”?  The bottom line is that “nitwit” or “dimwit” sounds better.  The other bottom line is that English words are just downright confusing without context and a shared understanding of the contextual environment we are communicating in.

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Pre Face – Part 2

The writing of those words, flora and fauna, plethora and paucity, Romulus and Remus got me to thinking and brought me to the following train of thought with respect to words:

Words!  What is in a word?  My kingdom for a word!  A horse it may be but a horse is only a word that by any other name is still a word. Words declare wars, they garner peace. Words can be hurtful, they can be playful. Words describe words as in spiteful words, hurtful words, insightful words. We can have a war of words, crosswords or them’s fightin words. Words can be theatrical: we can have a play on words. Word is the law.  It is the word. Words are prophetic. Words can be the gospel truth.  So sayeth the word of the Lord. Words inspire, they transpire. Words transcribe: you have my word on that. Failing that, can I have a word with you? But words are not enough. That’s why we have lawyers. Words can also be despotic, or chaotic.  A single word can inspire poetry, lyricism. 

And when a few words are taken together, we have a phrase.  And when a couple of phrases are linked together we have, in a word, a “sentence.” And when a group of sentences are grouped together we have, in another word, a “paragraph.”  And to describe or summarize a paragraph we can go right back to the beginning of this word-train of thought – to “paraphrase!”

We can combine words to make quotable quotes: some profound, some sublime, some simplistic, some stupidly clear:

“To be or not to be – that is the question.” That may be but on Jeopardy it is the answer!

“If things are good in moderation then they must be great in excess.”  My favourite.

“If something is worth doing, then it is worth overdoing.”  My other favourite.

“Baseball is 100% physical. The rest is mental.” (adapted from Berra).

“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.  A woman does what she wants.”

“A consultant is someone who is adept at making the simple… complex.”

“The problem with theory is that it’s just not practical enough!”

“A wise fool is an oxy moron.”

“Those lefties are so darn righteous!”

“Militancy is great…for pacifists”

“She was at a loss for words.” a paradox for sure. 

or paradoxically:

“Words cannot describe what she said.” Huh?

Preface

When I was very young I wanted to be a proctologist. I thought that being an asshole was a good way to go.  But as you can imagine my parents and my friends were somewhat dismayed.  “Where on earth did that dumb ass thought come from?” they said? 

As it turned out I joined the Navy and spent my entire working life devoted to the maritime profession.  And while I loved the Navy life dearly some of my colleagues would say that either way I got the shaft.  Perhaps I did but it did take me awhile to glob on to the military life as I had a plethora of civvie jobs when I was young but with paucity of ambition and get up and go to go along with it.  In that regard the Navy’s routine addressed a restless nature, which seemed to be a perfect fit for me, somewhat like a proctologist’s glove.

How I love those two words: plethora and paucity. To me they sound like adjectives for the evil Roman twins Romulus and Remus.  Or perhaps more like the words flora and fauna.  And I took Latin in high school for 5 years. I was… veritably good at it.  Then again I wanted to be a proctologist too: the Latin word for asshole.  Somewhat like the word organic: also a Latin derivative meaning grown in pig shit.  But I digress.

When I first heard the words “plethora” and “paucity” I thought, “What on earth. Speak clearly man.” It brought my mind back to my elementary school days, grade eight to be exact, where a classmate of mine by the name of Big Maxx loved to show off his literary skills with those flowery descriptive essays that we had to write from time to time and read to the entire class.  He didn’t realize just how funny he could be ranting off to the class; proud of his literary skills with words of art that reflected anything but those big flowery descriptive texts for his words were always in the wrong context or with the wrong meaning.  He would write: “I had a flora of jobs when I was young but with not a fauna of ambition or get up and go.” Big Maxx wasn’t too smart back then but he did try very, very hard. And those were the days when one could fail a grade. I think Big Maxx had to repeat Grade 9 a plethora of times.

 

No posts until sometime after the New Year.

 

SJ