Category language

Things You Might Not Know

Turner L. Watson Leave a comment

Crazy couple of weekends, eh?  Crazy.  But good.  In the midst of all the running around, doing radio, writing stuff, and enjoying the bachelor parties of various friends, some things were pointed out to me that I thought I’d share with you.

1. My Eight-year-old captured two special Pokemon.

Also, one of them has evolved. I don’t know what that means, exactly, but since his Nintendo DS hasn’t been shut off for more than an hour over the last two weeks, I guess that’s something.  Of course, by the time this blog is published, he’ll have a whole stable of the little beasties.

I think it goes something like this, but hell, I'm a 43-year-old man. What do I know about your goddam gigapets?!

I think it goes something like this, but hell, I’m a 43-year-old man. What do I know about your goddam gigapets?!

2.  “The devil to pay” has nothing to do with Satan.

I remember reading about this sometime during college, I think.  Apparently, in old seafaring terminology, the “devil” was the seam of the keel (the bottom ridge of the boat.)  To “pay” meant to cover in pitch or tar, some sort of sealant.  Hence, to “pay the devil” meant covering the keel in pitch.  Likewise, the expression “between the devil and the deep blue sea” was a reference to being “keelhauled.”  That was a nasty bit of punishment/torture wherein they tied a rope around your ankles, ran the rope under the ship from one rail to the other, knocked you overboard and literally hauled your ass under the boat, over the keel, and to the other side.  Sometimes guys lived.  Mostly they drowned.  While the whole thing was going on, the victim was said to be between the devil and the deep blue sea.  See?  Sailing is fun!

WHEEEEEEEE!!!!

WHEEEEEEEE!!!!

3.  You’re pronouncing “Dr. Suess” wrong.

No, smartass, we know:  his real last name was Geisel.  The dude used his middle name, Suess, as his nom de plume.  The thing is, he was of German descent, and pronounced it “Soice.”  Everyone got it wrong, though, and he eventually gave up trying to correct people.  He then died drunk, penniless, and indigent.  (I made up that last part.)

See? It's a cat. In a hat. (No, eff YOU!!)

See? It’s a cat. In a hat. (No, eff YOU!!)

4.  Two wrongs don’t make a right.

But three lefts do.  (That’s also how people navigate downtown Ft. Wayne.)

As you can see from this handy image, Ewing street now has a stop sign. Progress, people.

As you can see from this handy image, Ewing street now has a stop sign. Progress, people.

5. Frank Black from the show Millennium was named for the guy from The Pixies.

X-Files mastermind Chris Carter created this not-really-a-spin-off show, Millennium, which debuted in 1996 and ran for about three seasons.  The main character, played wonderfully by the creepy android Bishop, was named Frank Black.  Chris Carter named him after Black Francis of super underground subbacultcha rock band The Pixies.  Black Francis was actually Frank Black.  I also once read that Chris Carter’s last name used to be Black, but it got changed somewhere along the way because reasons.  I don’t know if that’s true, so I just stick with that Pixies thing.

Look at this fucking ROCK STAR.

Look at this fucking ROCK STAR.

6. I made up a new word whilst typing that last bit.

I make no secret of the fact that I’m a piss-poor typist.  There are probably three different typos in this blog alone, not to mention gross abuses of grammar.  Hey, I type as I think, and my little digits can’t keep up all the time.  Anyway, I was typing “mastermind” when describing Chris Carter, and accidentally wrote “Matermind.”  I’ve since corrected that mistake, but have decided that “Matermind” is a great way to described someone who is borderline retarded and/or loves the comedy stylings of Larry the Cable Guy.  In a sense, “Matermind” is the exact opposite of “Mastermind.”  Feel free to use this new word with impunity.

Still a better movie than "Planes."

Still a better movie than “Planes.”

Mr. Watson

Turner L. Watson 10 Comments

So I’ve noticed something, and don’t know whether it should concern me or if I’m just being an old stick-in-the-mud.  Help me out here, people.  I’ve seen this little meme or photo macro or whatever you want to call it floating around lately, and the basic gist is “I fear for a world run by kids that received trophies just for participating and have never been spanked.”  True enough.  Good point, nameless internet person. Wisdom.  But then I also think that our parents said essentially the same thing about us, and for God’s sake, how many of our moms and dads got kicked out of the house during the 60’s and 70’s for smoking pot, listening to “that rock-n-roll trash” or smoking (GASP!) weed?!?  No, I think the future will be just fine.  It’s evolution.  It’s the job of the younger generation to question the older, and also hold it responsible for its actions, its wars, its recessions, etc.  Ain’t always gonna see eye-to-eye.  It’s natural.  It’s good.  It’s right.

“No, dad. I said FUCK SOCKS!! Go ahead and kick me out. YOU KNOW I’M RIGHT, MAN!”

However…

Something that I’ve picked up on recently makes me wonder if there isn’t a seismic shift underway in our society.  I’m not saying it’s good or bad: I’m just saying the world is going to be very different in a generation, and it has nothing to do with technological advances or the divorce rate or gay marriage. No, it’s the overall familiarity that has permeated everything.  EVERYTHING.  It’s a casual society now.  When the President of the United States of America shows up in a suit with NO TIE and possibly smoking a cigarette, you know something’s up.  Sports bars are on every corner, and yet the martini bar is an endangered species.  (True, shows like Mad Men have brought them back from the brink a little bit, but it’s a losing game.)  And while familiarity is all well and good, it seems like there’s a wholesale lack of respect getting ready to run away and make things…messy.  As an example, I have never once been called “Mister Watson” by any of my kids’ friends.  Not once.  I have been called “Mister Turner” by some, and I guess that’s better than nothing.  And I’ve seen this in other kids, not just the ones my boys run with.  The ONLY people that get the old-school treatment are schoolteachers, and even that is fading.  My kids have referred to their pre-school teachers in the past as “Miss Kay, Miss Jill” et. al.  I seriously don’t remember some of the kids’ teachers last names because, well…I never heard them.

Pictured: Miss Kim gets tired of dicking around and does this shit herself.

When I was a kid, it was always “Mrs. Gillenwater” or “Mr. Crabtree.”  I never even knew Mr. Crabtree’s first name.  He was this older, towering, greying person who called my friend Chris in for dinner.  I didn’t NEED to be on a first-name basis with him, and frankly preferred it that way.  It would never have occurred to me to show up at the Crabtree home, knock on the door, and when the father answered say “Hey, Doug!  Is Chris home?”  That’s some Eddie Haskell shit, and it just…we just didn’t do that.

Yo, Ward! You gonna pass that dutch?

Maybe I’m just too old-fashioned, but it seems like putting the kids on a  first-name basis with the adults makes them feel a bit, um…entitled.  And don’t get me started on how kids today wouldn’t even think about using “Yes, sir” or “No, ma’am.”  It’s just language that’s fading from our culture.  What does it mean for the future?  I don’t know.  It’s happening in the workplace right now.  We refer to our General Manager at work as “Jim.”  Heck, the old C.O.O. was simply “Tony.”  In the old days the most powerful man in the company would’ve been “Mr. Richards.”  Is this better or worse?  Seriously, I don’t know.  I tend to be very old-fashioned in most respects (many of you have seen how I dress from time-to-time) but maybe this is the way the Little Guy feels like he’s on the same level with the Big Guy, even if he isn’t.  Is that so bad?  I’m a Little Guy, so I can’t really say.

I guess time will tell.  I’d love to hear your thoughts.  Comment below, sir or ma’am!

Your Kidding.

Turner L. Watson 24 Comments

I love this.  This title.  I love it because Grammar Nazis begin foaming at the mouth at the sight of it, not realizing that I’ve deliberately poked them on their collective schonzolas.  And also because that title is grammatically correct…within a certain context.

Example:  Someone overhears me talking about the cruel joking and kidding I was subjected to at work. (No, really!  Happens all the time!)  They ask me whose kidding was the meanest and harshest.  With a cold, steely glint in my eye, I turn and through gritted teeth spit “YOUR kidding.  It was DARN NASTY! Everyone else’s was good-natured.  Your kidding, however…  Just too much.”

And scene. So.  We’ve established what sort of blog this is to be, haven’t we?  The kind where I actually defend the semi-illiterati that spam your Facebook wall with an insane amount of poor grammar, spelling, and punctuation.  This will also be the sort of blog where I take someone to task (going to try and do more of that sort of thing in the coming months) and folks, this week it’s the notorious Grammar Nazi.  See, I know the beast well.  I happen to be married to one, my family is rife with them, and I almost slipped off the ledge of self-righteousness myself and joined their ranks.

Can we call them something else, please? My grandad killed real Nazis. The guy that corrects your apostrophe placement seems a bit less scary than Hitler. That’s all I’m sayin’.

To be fair, the Grammar Nazi in most cases actually thinks they are providing a service to society.  They see themselves holding back the flood linguistic contamination and perversion.  They like their language the way it is and hate to see it evolve.  I once felt that way.  About words like “duck tape.”  People, it’s “duct tape.”  Adhesive tape designed for metal duct work, like your central air conditioning system.  However, at some point people either got lazy or (I like this explanation better) the tape got reaaaalllly popular outside of the duct and metalworking communities.  Most of the laymen and housewives using this miracle tape did not know how to spell or pronounce “duct”  and likely didn’t even know where in their house to find one.  They heard the repairmen yelling “Say, Frank…toss me a roll of that d*** tape!”  It sort of sounded like he said “duck.”  So, “duck tape” it became.  And now there’s a company that actually calls itself “DUCK TAPE” and has, ironically, moved beyond simple “duct tape” to sell a complete line of weatherproofing and adhesive-natured products.

I get it, though.  Everything in the world changes, and some people don’t fancy that at all.  Fair enough.  After all, I’m the idiot in slicked-up hair and a fedora.  I understand.  But there are also people who become Grammar Nazis just to feel better about themselves by thinking less of other people.  Or just to give themselves the feeling of literacy, class, and social standing.  But the problem is that language is constantly changing.  If you get a chance to go to the library or a used bookstore,  find a textbook from, say, 1948.  Swear to God, some of it will be hard to follow.  Perhaps they use the old English (but not Old English) spelling of “plow.”  That is to say, “plough.”  The textbook might use two words to say “toward.”  Seriously, some people back in the day would say “to-wards” or even “to-morrow.”  Guess what?  It got shortened to one word.  And that’s a big factor in the evolution of language: convenience.  Contractions, for example.  When’s the last time you used the word “cannot” in regular conversation? Be honest.  Seriously, the only time most of us use “cannot” instead of “can’t”  is when quoting that made-up George Washington line about telling lies.  “Can’t” is where it’s at.  Quicker to spell, easier to say.  Like “Won’t.”  If Tim Burton had used the original phrasing of that contraction, one of my favorite lines in Beetlejuice would have sounded like this:  “That is why I will not do two shows a night any more.  I will not.  I will not do it.”  Huh!  Dr. Suess wrote Beetlejuice?!?  Mind=blown.

No, no! The OTHER Beetlejuice!

It’s evolution, baby.  Outside of the Bible and Shakespeare, no one uses “thee” and “thou” anymore.  Words like “faggot” have changed meaning so much over the years that they are now considered very offensive.  Think about it: our children’s children will probably start using a then-outdated word like “laptop” to replace some of the other horrible hate-filled connotations of today.  “Bro, stop being a laptop and do the shot!”  And that brings me to my next point.  The Pandora’s Box of our modern times.  The Internet.

Well, make that “The Internet and Texting.”  Shorthand rules everything these days, from Twitter limiting the number of characters you can use to people texting one-handed whilst driving down Coldwater Road.  Acronyms have been around for ages.  “POSH” meant “Port Out, Starboard Home” for people taking pleasure cruises that wanted the best possible view from their staterooms.  “AWOL” means “Away WithOut Leave.”  See how in the old days “With-Out” was two words?  Evolution.  And that whole sentence got shortened to “AWOL.”  LOL, amirite?  ROTFLMAO!!

Seriously, nobody cares.

But the message is still being delivered!  Can you understand parts of the Bible, even though it uses archaic words and phrases?  Of course you can.  Can you figure out when the birthday party is even if “Your invited!  Be their at noon!”  Yes.  Yes, you can. You get the message because of the context.  But the Grammar Nazis go CaTCUB when they see this sort of thing on Facebook.  Yes, we get it.  There’s a difference between “their, there, and they’re.”   Also, “your and you’re.”  We get it.  We know there’s a difference.  And you know what else?  We. Just. Don’t. CARE.  Get over yourselves.  It’s entirely possible that in the next century, all three spellings of “there” will blend into one.  Likewise, “to and too” will be interchanged.  Think about it: we use the word “you” to address one person or a crowd of people.  Nobody seems confused by this.  It just happens.  Hell, English is one of the few languages on this wonderful Earth (or as Will Smith would say, “Erf”) that doesn’t have separate male and female articles!  We use “The.”  The Man.  The Woman.  The chainsaw.  It’s simpler that way, right?  Right.  Simplicity.  It’s the nature of language, and it happens all the time. Constantly.  Maybe it’s happening faster nowadays, due to the speed of information and the pace of life.  Maybe advertising has changed “cheese” into “cheez” and “light” into “lite.”  Okay.  So what?  So things sound less fancy.  Big deal.  Maybe it’s because I’m a believer in the little guy, but that shit doesn’t bother me.  Can you infer my meaning from my status update?  Good.  That’s all I care about.  Put some flowers around it, make it sparkle.  Good for you.  And thanks, Grammar Nazi for keeping the scary outside world at bay.  Your the best!

Please, Grammar…don’t hurt ’em.