Tag Archives: Words

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Whispering in the Cemetery

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Today’s post comes from marketing whiz and ideas man Spin Williams, who is always in residence at The Meeting That Never Ends.

Just saw a great concept described in this newspaper article – tombstones with codes chiseled in them so people can use a cell phone to link to text, photos and video of the deceased.

Everybody wants to live forever! I know I do! If that’s not possible, at least make it so I can force people to listen to me after I’m dead. Lecturing from the grave has got to be the next best thing to perpetual life. Better, really! If someone has to hear you talk, the fact that you are dead adds interest. Especially if they are under the delusion that you are somehow nearby, and can see them too!

That’s why connecting your sound and fury to the location of your buried remains is such a genius idea. Standing there at your tombstone, hearing you rattle on about integrity, discipline and the importance of family, people might imagine that you are present in the space and could possibly lash out with a breeze, a rumble beneath the earth, or even the chilling touch of an icy, invisible hand! That’s why cemeteries can be such creepy fun!

There’s just one drawback.

I’m guessing it will never be common for folks to go wandering around the graveyard scanning tombstones with their smart phones. Could be wrong, but I just don’t see that happening. The living are busy and so self absorbed! They won’t have the time and certainly won’t have enough interest to find out what your life lessons were.

This means big disappointment for those who will shell out for the full talking tombstone treatment. When they they check the web statistics, they will discover that it is only grieving relatives who access their digital remains, and with decreasing regularity since expired folks typically do not record or post fresh material.

If what you want is to bestow your timeless wisdom on a thoughtless world that has forgotten you existed, you need to place your QR code in a location that has higher traffic than the local boneyard.

The ancient Egyptians had this all figured out, carving their hieroglyphics into public buildings. Why not do the same thing with your QR code? Forget the cemetery! There are enough similarities – the QR code and hieroglyphics are pretty much identical. To me, anyway!

Face it, these would look so cool side-by-side on your memorial pyramid.

But most (all) of us won’t get a pyramid, so why not take your tombstone money and mount a posthumous ad campaign where people can see it?
Have your QR code carved into the side of the Vikings new pleasure dome in downtown Minneapolis. I’m sure Zygi Wilf would take your money in exchange for a nice blotchy design that could create some appealing texture on those monumental outside walls.

And if somebody accidentally scans it while calling their bookie to place another $500 on Minnesota’s opponent of the week, they’ll get a chance to hear your words of wisdom – “Don’t waste your money in gambling. Especially on the Vikings.”

Your Entrepreneurial Friend,

Spin Williams

What would your talking tombstone say?

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Impending Merger

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Possibly the most intriguing bit of news I’ve heard in the past few weeks is the new level of certainty reached by scientists that our Milky Way Galaxy and the Andromeda Galaxy will merge in about 4 billion years.

There had been some doubt. Sky watchers have noticed the movements and have wondered if the two galaxies might be drawn together by their gravity – this at a time when the universe itself is expanding faster and faster, leaving even more emptiness between the objects. But these two galaxies are close enough that the expansion will not draw them apart.

Galaxies, as big as they are, have their own destiny and ours apparently is to join with Andromeda.

We’re talking about billions of stars, some (maybe all) dragging a retinue of planets, asteroids, comets and debris, coming together in one grand conglomeration. And yet none of the stars will hit each other! This was said with certainty in one article I read – yet how can they know?

And if the merger of two galaxies is anything like the acquisition/merger of two corporations here on Earth, there are bound to be casualties. Several hundred duplicate retail outlets and half the staff of the PR department, for example.

Two things drove the magnitude of this event home for me –

One is a video simulation of the galaxies as they are expected to interact – an initial co-mingling 4 billion years from now with momentum that carries them apart again, and a final, second alignment 2 billion years later. Looks like fun if you’re not in the middle of it!

The other is a simulation of the night sky as seen from Earth with Andromeda approaching – about 3.75 billion years from now. Imagine if you went outside and saw this.

Beautiful, romantic, and a bit like looking down the train tracks at the onrushing southbound commuter as your wheels spin in the mud. Gulp.

Who knows if we, as humans, will still be around to witness the merger? Probably not. But I did see a cockroach the other day and I tried to tell him (her?) to keep an eye on the sky for big changes. I got the usual disappearing act for an answer.

In such an unpredictable world, I’m amazed whenever we KNOW something is going to happen for certain and for sure. Galaxies will collide. Neither Congress nor the Koch brothers will be able to stall it or stop it or spin it.

As in corporate mergers, making everyone feel comfortable with joining the new entity will be a challenge. Maybe a clever name and some good signage will help.

What should we call the new galaxy?

Poems

Too Many Words!

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I have this feeling I’ve written an excessive number of blog posts about clutter.

But every so often it hits me that it would be a great topic! So I go ahead and write about clutter because I’ve temporarily forgotten the other 28 identical posts that are jammed in the back of the old blog drawer. And now I have another one. Sigh.

Because I invest so much time in every precious post, I’m loathe to delete even one in spite of the fact that I know I will never go back to read it again. And neither will anyone else.

I’m not alone in this. The New York Times “Well” blog writer Jane Brody has a new post about clutter that picks up where she left off on an older post about clutter. She doesn’t seem to be bothered by an unsightly accumulation of words on the topic. Maybe that’s because she’s had such success unloading a lot of other useless stuff.

There’s a lot to be said for getting rid of books, even though committed book people feel they lose a little bit of their soul each time they cart one out of the house – especially the favorite volumes of their youth. Brody finds strength as she goes on, learning that it gets easier the more debris you shovel out the door. I’m happy for her.

But a surprising number of reader comments go the other way, decrying the “smug” attitude of anti-clutter fanatics who use tough love to force people to toss things that may someday become family treasures, like old works of art you never look at anymore, ancient photographs and precious hardcover volumes of literature.

I can’t claim to have read many of those classics, though I tried to wade through “Moby Dick” once and found it a tough slog indeed. Too many words. Melville should have read “The Hoarder In You” by Dr. Robin Zasio – a book Brody praises.

“I would say that Dr. Zasio’s book is about the best self-help work I’ve read in my 46 years as a health and science writer. She seems to know all the excuses and impediments to coping effectively with a cluttering problem, and she offers practical, clinically proven antidotes to them.”

That’s 50 words. Nice, but I think it could be done in 35.

Since we can’t clean each other’s closets and it would be wrong to compost someone else’s books, let’s de-clutter texts today. Think how free that old word hoarder Melville would have felt if he’d reduced his opus to a more manageable haiku:

Chasing the White Whale
Captain Ahab lost his leg
And his mind went too.

Or Tolstoy:

“It’s like ‘War and Peace'”
says the thing is “too damn long”.
Whatever it is.

What do you have too much of?

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Birth of the Bard

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Today is Shakespeare’s Birthday, we assume.
Three days hence the books note his baptism
Counting backwards experts all presume
For natal days, this one must be his’n.

Wrote sonnets and some pretty famous plays.
Penned some lines that surely are immortal.
With “bated breath” and other turns of phrase
that give us pause and cause enough to chortle.

No bigger star in scribb’ling has there been,
Nor likely will there be tomorrow.
All who write have lost ‘fore they begin.
Naught to do but read, admire and borrow.

What gift for Shakespeare’s birthday? But of course!
A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

What’s your favorite line from Shakespeare?

The Baboon Congress

Inflated Superstition

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Today’s Guest Post comes from Clyde.

I had four flat bike tires in eight days. Then a week later my wife said, “Well, you haven’t had a flat in a few days.” I gritted my teeth, but did not answer her. Why did she have to say THAT?

I am a strange contradiction in a way. I have some education in and a strong reading interest in the sciences. And I’m a Christian, well a Lutheran, which is the next thing to a Christian. I have some education in and a strong reading interest in religion. While those two things are supposed to be in conflict, they should together rid me of all superstitions. Nevertheless, I have had one and only one superstition my whole life, but I can never shake it. It is the fear that words will make the opposite so. You know the “knock on wood” superstition.

When someone says something I fear may make the opposite happen, I do not knock on wood. I mean, that would be just stupidly superstitious. I would, however, never say that I had gone for awhile without a flat. (I just checked this minute–no flat. Pshew.) I might even say something like “Yep, bet I’ll get another flat” hoping my words will prevent a flat. (Just checked again on the bike tires. Still okay. But bet I get one, nudge, nudge, wink, wink.)

I have a perfectly logical explanation for why I had the flats. God’s out to get me. No. Don’t be ridiculous. First, the streets and sidewalks, which is where I do almost all my riding, have quite a bit of glass on them this time of year before the city gets out with street sweepers. Second, when I put the bike away last fall, I made a note to remember that both tires were worn down, which is the number one way to get flats. I did remember the worn tires when I started riding a few weeks ago. But this is April. You know, tax month. I am SURE I will owe A LOT when I get them back from my accountant. A LOT. (Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.)

I had no choice but to buy new tires. So now I’m sure I won’t . . .

Well, let’s just not say it.

What are your superstitions, perhaps in spite of yourself?

Songs

Old Soldiers

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This is the anniversary of General Douglas MacArthur’s farewell address, which included the catchphrase “Old Soliders Never Die, They Just Fade Away.”

Definitely not fading away here.

To my way of thinking, the line is more appropriate to describe the end of the perpetual Disc Jockey.
Dick Clark did just fade away, gradually vanishing like so many of the songs he promoted, the volume sliding down to an imperceptible nothing.

But for soldiers? I’m puzzled.

Why is just fading away any better or more appropriate for an old soldier than dying? Especially in a business where dying is such an ever present and immediate risk? We certainly know that young soldiers die – far too many of them. Why would old soldiers find any comfort in the prospect of a long fade? Or is this an expression of regret that they can’t go out in a blaze of glory like the young comrades they lost so many years ago? I don’t get the point. Soldiers? Anyone?

The famous line comes at the end of the speech, which was given to a Joint Session of Congress on April 19th, 1951.

“I still remember the refrain of one of the most popular barracks ballads of that day which proclaimed most proudly that old soldiers never die; they just fade away. And like the old soldier of that ballad, I now close my military career and just fade away, an old soldier who tried to do his duty as God gave him the light to see that duty.
Good Bye.”

The line comes from an old “barracks ballad”? I didn’t know that, and wondered if perhaps seeing the words to the ballad might shed some light on the sentiment. I didn’t find much on my first few tries with Google, but fortunately for me there’s Subtropic Bob, who writes a blog called “This Day In Quotes.”

Subtropic did some digging last year and managed to connect the quote to a hymn called “Kind Words Never Die”, which makes the case that kind words, sweet thoughts and human souls are eternal. Linking that idea to old soldiers was apparently a work of parody, and not a flattering one at that (what parody ever is?).

“Old soldiers never die,
Never die, never die,
Old soldiers never die —
They simply fade away.

Old soldiers never die,
Never die, never die,
Old soldiers never die —
Young ones wish they would.”

If this is actually the song MacArthur recalled, the proclamation about old soldiers sounds far from proud. But at the time he gave his speech, the General was looking back on a 52 year military career. It is entirely possible that this popular, poignant saying is actually a lyric lifted from a misremembered, cheeky song meant to mock the very same people who now shed a tear over it. The lesson for satirists – time wears away the sharp edges of your biting wit, and the joke is ultimately on you.

What would be a more modern version of MacArthur’s inadvertent transformation of a joke into into a poignant benediction? Imagine some long-serving college president made this comment as the final lines in a farewell speech …

“I still remember the refrain of one of the most popular dormitory ballads of that day which proclaimed most proudly that ‘in the end, I learned to bend, and did it their way.’ So now I close my career in academe, I say to you what is a man? What can I do? Open your books. Read chapter Two. And if it seems a bit routine don’t talk to me, go see the dean. They get their way. I get my pay. We do it … their way.”

What song lyrics would you lift for your Farewell Address?

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Lover Word

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Late in the day in yesterday’s comments section for the post “Word Lover”, Clyde had an interesting observation that some may have missed, so I’ll repeat it here:

True, there seems to be a missing word. “Master” is the logical choice, but the powerful connotations of that word really don’t line up with what we think of as “mistress” role. We have to think again.

For sheer economy, it’s hard to top “Misteress”. But I’m guessing most people wouldn’t catch the slight difference in pronunciation. The Urban Dictionary says the right word is “Manstress“. That’s better, but still wrong to my ear. I hear “Manstress” as your male friend who is agonizing to be around.

The commentators across the pond at Yahoo Answers in the UK and Ireland had some better ideas. I like “Histress”, “Consort” and “Kept Man”.

But still, none of these strike me as carrying the same quality of ownership as “Mistress”. As Clyde points out, that fact that a man HAS a mistress carries some added significance. Why doesn’t the mistress HAVE the man?

Some say the absence of a proper word for this relationship is the result of centuries of male domination – women haven’t possessed the power to play the same role in the relationship as a man does with his mistress. The fact that we’re talking about it now may indicate that times have changed enough to make the coining of a new word possible.

That means this is a moment of great opportunity!

I can think of at least one contemporary reference that may have enough unique strengths to carry forward as the new term for a man who is in an inappropriate relationship with a powerful woman who is not his wife. But I’m not sure we are really ready to hear this:

“That man isn’t her husband. Don’t you know? The rumor is she has a brodkorb.”

What makes a coined word or phrase catch on and become part of the language?

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Loose Lips Sink Ships

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Today’s post comes from Trail Baboon’s Living and Loving correspondent and a man who is a bottomless well of wellness – B. Marty Barry.

Greetings to all my friends struggling against the relentless currents of life. I’m here to grace you with my wisdom about your misguided choices. And it just so happens my topic today is very current – what happened to personal responsibility and accountability?

That’s the exact same question famous talker Rush Limbaugh asked in the middle of his apology to Sandra Fluke this weekend, although I hesitate to call anything an apology when it asks such a question and also includes a mini-lecture.

Oh, how I wish Rush would become a client of mine! Our counseling appointments would be sublime. He would talk and talk and talk, and he’s incredibly rich, so scheduling another few hours on the couch would be no problem for him. I would listen and nod and murmur and take notes. He would never ask for a response of any kind from me, so I could be as blunt and straightforward as I want in my personal session notes.

If he ever did ask for an opinion, I would have some at the ready.

For instance, on his apology:

Apologies should be brief. One should not try to explain one’s self in an apology –just take responsibility and express remorse. That’s it. Job done. The only question I can think of that might be part of a decent apology is “what was I thinking?”

And what about that personal responsibility thing? I know Rush was thinking about sexual behavior, but there’s a lot of responsibility involved in choosing words too. And he DID admit to making some poor choices there.

Unfortunately our society has come to a place where some people are rewarded for saying the first dumb word that comes to mind just because it feels humorous and clever and good. And sometimes that’s all it is – a wacky, impulsive, irresponsible choice.

But on certain occasions something happens and a dumb word takes root and begins to grow. And as it grows, it turns into a living thing that must be fed, even if it wants to eat your job. You can’t turn your back on that – you have to reckon with it.

And yet some of these same thrill seekers think they can undo their language mistakes by using word contraceptives like “I chose the wrong words” and “I did not mean a personal attack” and so forth, basically covering their earlier statements with a thin, transparent sheath of something that sounds like regret.

The success rate for this technique is, at best, mixed. And word contraceptives should always be used BEFORE speaking, not afterwards.

The consequences can be severe, so be cautious when you feel the urge to start playing with words! Be discreet and take personal responsibility for what you say, especially when it comes to words about sex, because things can go south pretty rapidly.

And I probably shouldn’t have said it that way.

Time’s up! I think we got a lot done today. And please remember that although I’ve never met you, I do care about you very, very, very much.

What makes for an effective apology?

The Baboon Congress

G.O.A.T.LING(go)

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Today’s guest post comes from Barbara in Robbinsdale.

It’s time, Babooners, for the next round of additions to our Glossary of Accepted Terms, or G.O.A.T.. Every so often the bin gets full, and it has been a particularly rich half year since we last did this. At some point they will be added to the already existing Glossary “up top”. This time I left in the dates, because it really is fun to find out what in the heck was going on that produced the entries.

About a horse apiece – Close to equal, as in: “with regard to red vs white quinoa, I’d say it was about a horse apiece. Both are good and I couldn’t taste that one was better than the other.” February 12, 2012

Alpha Baboon – DC, or Dale Connelly, as in “I am thankful for Trail Baboons and the friends here as well as our Alpha Baboon, DC.” November 23, 2011

Baviaansverwisseling [from the Dutch words “baviaans” (baboon), and “persoonsverwisseling” (mistaken identity)] – attributing something (i.e. a blog post) to the wrong Babooner. September 20, 2011

Cheek turnee – the recipient of the compassionate act of turning the other cheek, as in: “many of us can recall being the cheek turner but very few cheek turnees.” January 9, 2012

Emotional hangover – a state of mind “that only mashed potatoes can address,” sometimes following a day in which a community has lost one of its favorite members, i.e. Tom Keith. November 2, 2011

Etiquette – …”a lubricant that allows people of all sorts to interact without friction.” October 3, 2011

Feisties – Baboon mothers who are extraordinarily resilient, strong, or tenacious. “Great mothers, Tim, Caroline and Sue; a trio of Feisties.” February 16, 2012

Flaming extrovert – an extremely gregarious Baboon, as in “Being a flaming extrovert, however, pretty much guarantees a good time and with 21 nightclubs on this monster ship…” January 26, 2012

Forgetful-compulsive – a new personality disorder, coined by the Alpha Baboon, in which the patient has both memory and control issues, exemplified by the following: “I forgot that last week I had scheduled Steve’s post to publish today, and then yesterday I compulsively wrote a new one of my own.” February 28, 2012

Gemutliche – Warm friendliness; amicability – snug, cozy, comfortable… Descriptions of a special cat. November 11, 2011

Inert – a particularly inactive level of activity in a person, i.e., “I took Latin in high school…I rather enjoyed it even though the teacher was somewhat inert.” September 20, 2011

Line camarerie – what happens when like minded people stand in line together for an extended time. “I love line camraderie when it breaks out.” November 12, 2011

Mondegreen – mis-heard lyrics to a song, as in: “They had slain the Earl of Moray/And Lady Mondegreen” instead of …”And Laid Him on the Green.” Sept. 16, 2011

Oxford comma – the final comma preceding “and” in a list, lovingly used by a number of Baboons. January 26, 2012

Pancake of glory – one way of leaving the planet (esp. involving a falling piece of an Upper Air Research Satellite), as in: “Let it land here. I am ready to go out in a pancake of glory.” September 22, 2011

Poemizing – creating poetry, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, on the Baboon Trail; as in: “Nice poemizing, DC and Tim.” February 2, 2012

Rock Bend Folk Festival – a FREE music festival in St. Peter the weekend after Labor Day, to which the Baboon Krista in Waterville devotes a good portion of her August (and maybe July). February 21, 2012

Rush Baboonbaugh – a spokesperson that would defend the rights of Baboons, probably in an outspoken manner. February 13, 2012

Snarky snort – a snort with a devilish little “heh-heh” to it. January 7, 2012

Tortured Acronym Rule – putting up to three extraneous letters in an acronym to come up with a better word, i.e., “SWIFT is short for Statewide Integrated Financial Tools… although “Statewide” may be one word, it’s almost two words, and we like the acronym SWIFT better than SIFT, so we’re going to invoke the Tortured Acronym Rule.” December 13, 2011

trailing preposition, trailing apology : What’s a trailing preposition? “thats a preposition you do while you are here on the trail i presuppose but heck thats ok you can do anything here on the trail. you dont need to leave no dang trailing apologies.” February 2, 2012

Typhonic winds of their own psychosis – in the realm of worrying: “Usually, there comes a point of ridiculousness where the person comes to realize how nutty they’re being. And, if not, at the very least, it’s entertaining watching them twist in the typhonic winds of their own psychosis.” September 22, 2011

Wasband – A person whowas one’s husband. Frequently used with glee at the past tense involved. (Not to be confused with Washboard.) February 8, 2012

Acronyms:

BuRP – Baboon Relocation Project (See Tortured Acronym Rule) January 10, 2012

IYCSSNTDSAAA – If You Can’t Say Something Nice Then Don’t Say Anything At All February 2, 2012

Pr³ – pressing priority predicament October 11, 2011

s&h – son and heir, esp. madislandgirl’s son and heir.

TWHQ – World Headquarters of the Trail Baboon Blog, as in: “it will all be worth it, just to say ‘I eat what they eat at TWHQ’ ”. January 13, 2012

When, if ever, do you use a dictionary or other reference? Paper or Digital?

Poems, The Baboon Congress

Let Me Call You Sweetheart

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Today’s guest post comes from Beth Ann.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8fykuW4IHk

There are an amazing number of performances of “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” to be found on YouTube. Everyone from Alfalfa to Patti Page and from Kate Smith to the Mills Brothers join in on this schmaltziest of schmaltz. Beyond the chorus there are enough different verses for it to qualify as a folk song.

Now the folks at Minnesota Community Sings are asking us to add more versions. They are sponsoring a sing-along in collaboration with Dan Chouinard to benefit Minnesotans United for All Families The group is organizing a No vote on the Marriage Amendment to Minnesota’s constitution.

The lyric writing contest is described as follows:

You are invited to write your own lyrics to the chorus tune of “Let me call you sweetheart.” Make it funny or heartfelt – write words that can be sung at the state capitol or in the Pride parade – lay on the schmaltz or give us your most acerbic wit. Our judges will choose several finalists whose lyrics will be sung by everyone at the Feb. 18 event. Winners will receive the accolades of the crowd and the best lyrics will doubtless be used at rallies and gatherings forevermore.

When I saw the contest it seemed to be right up the baboon alley. I would like to challenge all devotees of schmaltz, acerbic wit, and rhyme here on the trail to write a rainbow version of “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” from this template:

Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you
Let me hear you whisper that you love me too
Keep the lovelight glowing in your eyes so blue
Let me call you sweetheart, I’m in love with you.

Come on baboons! The future of love songs is in your hands.