Tag: Words

  • That Nap Ruined My Day

    We all make mistakes.

    In fact, here’s the one I made today.

    The kid had a half day at school, so she was home by 1pm. Before I went and got her, I did all the tasks and errands that I needed to do; balanced the checkbook, did the dishes, plugged in and ran the AC’s, got the kid from school, and made lunch. I even wrote in my journal, and did a good bit of reading – caught up on some flash pieces I have been meaning to read and finished a book of short stories.

    The kid had some homework, and we both sat down on the couch to do it. I don’t do the homework, I’m more along for moral support, and encouragement. Anyway, as I was sitting there, being that I’m not needed a whole lot, I decided that I should start reading another book. I got about 2 pages into it, and I fell asleep. Now, it wasn’t a deep sleep, but it was 45 minutes. I only woke up because the kid nudged me to ask if I was sleeping.

    But for the life of me, I haven’t been able to get myself back in gear. It’s like I’m walking through sand now. I’m so sluggish and foggy brained. I had plans for the second half of the afternoon, but I can’t seem to focus. Honestly, it’s taken me an hour to get myself to just sit down and do this.

    Hell, I promised the kid we’d go running in the park, and I still have to make dinner. I thought I was going to review a story but that doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards.

    I swear, if I nap for fifteen minutes, I am solid and refreshed. But anything over that amount of time, it’s like a crap shoot – God only knows how I’m going to react.

    I think I can blame this one on getting older.

  • ODDS and ENDS: The Dog Groomer, Fart in French, and Ice Cream

    (We’re all excited, but we don’t know why…)

    I love my dog. I always thought of myself as a cat person, but once we got the dog… well, I’m still a cat guy, but I do want to have a dog from here on out. And loving my dog, means loving all of her, including the bad stuff that she does. Which is very little, I might add. What the dog does that drives us nuts, and we haven’t been able to get her to stop, is that the dog goes ape-shit anytime she sees another dog. Like growling, and barking, and trying to break free from the leash so she can go and kill that other dog. It can make taking her for a walk a very challenging endeavor. Anyway, so when we take the dog to the groomers, the dog does her normal stuff when she sees the other dogs getting groomed, she goes bananas. So, we leave her, and when we come back to the groomers, they tell us how great of a dog she was; so kind, nice, and friendly. And we’ll ask if our dog was this nice version, even when other dogs were around, and the groomers tells us yes; that our dog was even friendly to the other dogs. This has happened enough times over the past five years, that I have come down to one of two conclusions; the groomers are telling us lies because no one wants to hear that their dog is an asshole, or our dog puts on this tough act in front of other dogs only when we’re around.

    My mother was a very proper woman. You had to really make her mad to swear, and she did embarrass easy. Yet, she raised three boys, and there was a lot of farting. BUT, my mother never said the word fart. No, that would be most improper. As she was raised in a French-American home, she did bring one, and only one, French term into our lives; péter. (That’s French for fart.) For the first several years of my life, I thought everyone also used the word péter. When I got to school, I learned quickly that no one used this word. Yet, the tern stuck with me, and in honor of my French heritage, I have made sure that my daughter knows that péter means fart in French.

    And, I want ice cream for dinner.

  • Weird

    Funny how one well placed word can unravel a person. The right word, said at the right time can cut to the core of someone, revealing what they fear most. And once that word is out there, being applied to that person, no matter how they try to defend or deflect, that word sticks to them.

    And “weird” was that word yesterday – just slicing through so much MAGA bravado, and leaving grasping Alpha Men with nothing to say except, basically, “I’m not weird! You’re weird!” But it was too late, damage was done.

    And the “weird” label hit MAGA Men at their most vulnerable spot – questioning if their world view was actually normal. The MAGA reaction says to me that most of them, MAGA Alpha Bros that is, know deep down what they are saying and believing in, is abnormal, if not outright weird. I can hear them thinking; “The shit that Trump says; it is weird.” “Maybe I am the weird one, but not in the outsider who’s cool kind’a weird; just the bad weird.”

    What I find most ironic is that this used to be a Trump skill. You know, he’d find that one word that encapsulates his opponent; “Lying” “Sleepy” “Cheating” “Meatball” “Little.” I hate to admit it, but Trump was really good at it. He would throw out a name, it would stick, and no matter how hard they try, that label stuck, and Trump would repeat it, over and over and over and over…

    So, the tables have turned. The bullies are being bullied by words. Poetic justice is just the tip of the cliches I can use here.

    I doubt that “weird” will live beyond this week’s news cycle.

    But it has been fun to watch.

  • A Typo in the First Sentence

    There is one continuous issue of mine, which befuddles and frustrates my life as a writer; typos. More specifically, my inability to proofread and catch my typos.

    One of the best Christmas presents I received was a toy typewriter when I was ten years old. I quickly set about writing stories, and trying my hand at creating a newspaper. No matter how hard I tried, I could never produce any copy that didn’t have some sort of mistake in it, which my older brothers loved to point out. Even in the age of early word processors, my teachers would have a field day pointing out my typos, adding snarky advice how if I slowed down and proofread better, than I could have earned a higher grade. I am sure that any of you, who have spent any time reading this blog, have seen my many, and I mean many, typos that proliferate my posts. I do try to correct these mistakes when I do a reread of a post, but normally, I don’t go back and look at my old blogs.

    But I have been trying to get better. Especially when it comes to submitting stories and other written work. I even ask the wife to lend a hand when she has the time, but on the whole, it is a task that I attempt, and maddingly fail at very often.

    Case in point, I just realized a few days ago that I had been sending out a story that had a typo in the first sentence. Right there, six words in. It should have been the word “simply” but I had written simple. No matter how many times I read, and reread this story, my mind kept seeing and saying “simply” even though, clear as day on the page, it said “simple.”

    I don’t know how I could have missed that, over and over again…

    And today was the day that I learned that medieval scribes attributed mistakes in their manuscripts to a demon by the name of Titivillus. They didn’t make a mistake; It was Titivillus!

    (I like this picture of the scribe looking at Titivillus. The scribe doesn’t seem frightened by the demon waiting at his desk, but he seems resigned that the demon is there, and will do what the demon does. I have a feeling that these two are on a first name bases with each other.)

    I do feel better knowing that this really isn’t my fault, my lack of skill when it comes to proofreading, that is. All this time, there was a small supernatural being that was messing with me. A demon that doesn’t commit heinous acts of death and destruction, but causes people mild annoyance and embarrassment.

  • English Language Rules

    You know what I am very bad at? Knowing when to use “maybe” and “may be.”

    I suck at grammar. This blog is filled with type-o’s from here till dawn, and until I get an editor, it will continue to function in this improper manner. God bless the people out there who can remember all the rules and know how to follow them. And in the same breath, you can fuck right off all of you people who use grammar as some sort of cudgel to make people feel ignorant and uncultured.

    Sadly, everyone, even really smart grammar-nazi people, has an innate desire to kick someone around to make themselves feel better. I wish people weren’t like that, but we are.

    If grammar people were honest, they would admit that the rules to the English language are arbitrary at best, and change often. Samuel Johnson, who wrote the first English dictionary, wanted to have a manual of the authoritative rules of the English language. Where did he find these rules? He made them up. The rules were based on his preferences, and for almost 300 years we have been following or breaking them ever since.

    As I am sure you can tell, I don’t like people who use the language as some sort of litmus test of a person’s intelligence. Whenever I hear “proper way to speak” or “proper way to write” it is like finger nails on the chalk board. The word “proper” when used in the context of language, is never meant as a signal that one is have difficulty discerning the meaning from the use of the language. No, when “proper” shows up in the contextual discussion of language, it is meant to signify that one use the of the language is “good” and another is “bad.”

    For that reason, I wish the English language, spoken and written, were treated more like a musical instrument that conveys emotion and understanding, regardless of how it is “played.” The sole question that should be ask is only, “Did you understand the intent and render a meaning?” If the answer is yes, then the language was used correctly.

    Maybe if we accepted more understanding, we would have a better understanding.

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)