Every year I volunteer at my local Society for Children's Book Writers & Illustrators' Writers" Day (that's a mouthful, eh?). This year's Writers' Day happens this weekend. The theme is "Connecting the Creative Dots," so it occurred to me to look into the word dot. Over the years, the noun dot has meant a speck, a small, round spot, a decimal point, a short click in Morse Code, an abbreviation for the name Dorothy or the Department of Transportation, a multiplication sign, & a precise point in time. The verb dot has meant to mark with a dot, & to mark with scattered dots, Originally, dot meant the head of a boil. Thankfully, we won't be dealing with boils at Writers' Day, but it's very likely at least one participant will be festooned with polkadots, decimal points will play a role (as books will be bought & sold), a Dorothy or Dot may be in attendance, some of us will arrive on the dot, and since writers & illustrators are involved, a goodly percentage of us might be referred to as dotty. And because writers & illustrators come in a variety of ages, there may be a few who could be considered dottering. Ah, the dot. Big thanks to this week's sourced: etymon line.com merriamwebster.com, CollinsDictionary.com,
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For years I've been trying to break a habit learned from my dad -- the habit of swearing colorfully at inanimate objects like stepstools, hammers, pliers, and such. In honor of my dad's propensity for turning the air blue, we’ll take a look at the word blue. Scott C. Perry Jr. (known in the family as Puz) happened to have blue eyes, though I doubt anyone who would’ve called him a blue-eyed boy. He headed to work at MGM Studios straight out of high school as a blue-collar worker. Though he wasn't inclined to get the blues, he could certainly appreciate someone playing the blues. He would not have been fond of blue laws, & did not frequent restaurants featuring cordon bleu chefs. But he could curse a blue streak like nobody's business. Etymologists are somewhat uncertain regarding the association of the word blue with profanity. The first instances of phrases like turn the air blue or cuss/curse a blue streak occurred in the 1840s. This may be associated with the Scottish phrase thread o’ blue, which referred to music or literature that included a “smutty touch,” however some linguists see this as a shaky connection. Blue collar is a reference to the traditionally blue work clothes of those engaged in manual labor. Cordon bleu translates to blue ribbon & refers to the highest level of chefs, those who might win a blue first place ribbon. The term blue-eyed-boy refers to the employee preferred by the boss; synonymous with the term fair-haired-boy; both appear to reflect long-lived European prejudices.Once in a blue moon is a term first documented in 1821 that reflects that rare occasion when we see two full moons in one month. Since 1741, we've used the term the blues to refer to depression or low spirits. From that usage was born the musical term, the blues, defined by musicologists as a minor interval where a major would be expected. Though Puz was a musical dude, he would've asserted, that the blues don't require a definition -- we can feel the blues in the music. Into the wild blue yonder is a term referring to the excitement or isolation of traveling to the unknown. It’s not quite synonymous with Jackie Gleason’s classic line, “To the moon, Alice, to the moon,” but I’m forced to mention this line due to Puz’s affinity for Jackie Gleason's show The Honeymooners & Puz’s own unplanned travel to the unknown some sixteen years ago. Blogophiles, please leave a comment suggesting a person in your life & what one word you might propose as a tribute to him/her. My thanks go out to this week’s sources The OED, The Free Dictionary & Etymonline. Every idiom has a story. Here are a few I find entertaining. In the 1800s, English speakers in America borrowed a Cree word for marmota monax (also known as the groundhog). They squeezed it into sounds that made some sort of sense in English, & ended up with woodchuck. These rodents were powerfully effective diggers, and regularly dug up the dirt roads, yielding chuckholes. Today, though rodents aren’t responsible, we still call the cavities in asphalt & cement roads, chuckholes. Some early puritans held the belief that a human was made of two halves: the body, & the spirit. Given puritanical thinking regarding the body, it should be no surprise that the spirit was considered the better half. When Sir Phillip Sydney wrote The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia, he applied this concept to marriage. Ever since, any married individual has a better half. The word bootlicker was born in the US of A’s youth. When hunters returned from a successful hunt (which often involved dressing and skinning), they weren’t very good at cleaning up their footwear, and stray dogs would follow them to lick their boots. The story goes that the trained hunting dogs would never stoop so low (hmmm), so bootlicker refers to the fawning behavior of curs. The most plausible of the many possible origins for getting one’s ducks in a row has to do with bowling. When bowling first made its way to America, a narrower-then-usual pin was used, which resembled a duck looking upward, & was called a duckpin. In those early years, machinery didn’t set up the pins for the next bowler, so someone had to run down the lane to put the ducks in rows. Voila. In China, a task that requires synchronized multiple hands can be accompanied by the phrase (said in unison), gung ho, which translates to work together. And it’s no surprise that when a bunch of people work together, amazing things can be accomplished. English-speaking observers impressed by such feats as the Great Wall, figured it took a bunch of enthusiasm to manage such a project. Ever since, gung ho! has meant very enthusiastic (in English, anyway). There are a couple possible origins for put up your dukes, & duke it out. Some etymologists link this to the British cockney tradition of labeling one thing by the name of something else that rhymes. Apparently, before 1700, fingers were referred to as forks. Cockney speakers combined this information with the royal title the Duke of York. Since fingers were already called forks, obviously, hands must be dukes! Makes perfect sense, right? Story #2 involves a specific Duke of York — Frederick Augustus, who was “widely admired” as a bare-knuckle fighter. So, fo course, why not call fists dukes? I’d love to know which of these origin stories you find most intriguing, unlikely, or most satisfying. My thanks go out to this week’s sources, Webb Garrison’s Why You Say It, Etymonline.com, , Phrases.org, Collins Dictionary, & the OED. Dogs make it into English idioms all the time, as dogs make their way into our hearts. As you consider this photo of The Noodle, looking contrite, consider the following: dog & pony show shaggy dog story as sick as a dog like a dog with a bone call off the dogs dirty dog dog eats dog dog-tired dog-eared every dog has its day raining cats & dogs go to see a man about a dog hot diggety-dog! a dog’s life let sleeping dogs lie meaner than a junkyard dog put on the dog tail wagging the dog hair of the dog that bit you life in the old dog yet you can’t teach an old dog new tricks in the dog house I had a bit of a milquetoast upbringing & had always heard one of the above terms, yet really hadn’t constructed much meaning for it. Then, in my twenties I had a character of a roommate named Mick. He kept me laughing with his Irish accent, colorful terms & his drinking ways. Nearly every Saturday morning I’d get up to see Mick sitting on our lumpy, brown floral sofa, his eyes at halfmast & a beer in his hand. “Hair o’ the dog what bit ya,” he’d say, wincing between swigs. Followers, please add something in the comments section: 1. What dog idioms did I leave out? 2. Tell your tale about one of the idioms above. My thanks go out to this week’s sources The OED, Etymonline, The Free Dictionary, & Cesar’s Way There are heaps of ways we refer to something being speedy or needing to be speedier. Here are a few: -quick as a bunny -in three shakes of a lamb's tail (only two shakes in the UK) -quick as a wink -in the blink of an eye -in a flash -quick as lightning -get the lead out Here are some for which I could find source information: -fast track (1934 from horse racing) -pronto (1850) from Spanish &/or Italian from a word meaning prompt -breakneck (1560s) moving so fast one is likely to break one’ s neck -giddy up (1909) a mispronunciation of get up, also spelled gee-hup, gee-up & giddap. -flat-out — most likely from horse-racing when horse & jockey flatten out to decrease wind resistance -posthaste (1530s) with great speed - a request written on the envelopes of letters -lickety-split (1852) most likely based on lick - a speedy sprint while racing - also lickety-cut, lickety-click, & licketie — probably related to quick as a lick -faster than you can say "Jack Robinson" has numerous proposed sources, none of them confirmed, but all intriguing: -Jack Robinson was US Secretary of the Treasury in the late 1700s & was able to get things done speedily in Congress -another Jack Robinson was constable of the Tower of London, responsible for quickly successive beheadings -another Jack Robinson was an English gentleman well-known for speedy changes of opinion Have you got a favorite idiom regarding speediness, or did any of these sources surprise you? If so, please let me know in the comments section. Thanks to this week’s sources, Etymonline.com, the OED, Merriam-Webster, Answers.com, ,& Wordnik.com. Image from Grumpy Goat Tattoo.. Here’s a brief collection of English idioms based on foods. You don’t know beans! This idiom seems to have shown up in the 1850s. Linguists pose two differing arguments for its source. One school suggests that because beans are both small & a basic food source, to not know beans is to not understand the simple basics of life. The second school cites a rural American riddle: How many blue beans does it take to make seven white beans? The answer is, (for those of you who don’t know beans) seven. To make blue beans white you simply peel off the skin. Apparently this was seen as common knowledge. Anyone who couldn’t answer the riddle didn’t know beans. Hard-boiled This is a tricky one because though it appears to a food-based-idiom, it isn’t. It comes from the steamy kitchens of the American frontier. Those who did the laundry typically used lye soap (which wasn’t as effective as it might have been). When the clothes got too dingy, launderers of the day boiled them for an extended time with starch. Pieces of clothing that had received this treatment tended to be uncomfortably stiff, & were referred to as hard-boiled. At some point the term morphed to describe a person who was likely wearing over-starched clothing & shared that clothing’s characteristics of being unyielding and emotionless. Fishing for information This idiom was introduced by none other than Geoffrey Chaucer in Canterbury Tales. Historians tell us Chaucer was quite the fisherman (in the literal sense). The intimate nature of Canterbury Tales shows us he was apparently also gifted at fishing for information. Cheesecake In 1934, Time magazine appears to have coined this idiom, & defined it to mean, “leg-pictures of sporty females.” Like many idioms, this one reflects its times. The “sporty females” photographed in Time magazine all had skin the color of cheesecake. Modern cheesecake shots do not discriminate in terms of skin color & generally involve exposure of more than the legs. Ham If it takes a little digging to see racist attitudes or flat-out racism reflected in the birth of the idiom cheesecake, seeing racism in the origins of the idiom ham takes no digging at all. The minstrel shows of the 1800s that often featured white actors in “black face” are responsible. Often, the makeup was removed by use of ham fat. It seems the use of ham fat in concert with the horrible acting based on racist stereotypes gave birth to the idiom. Nothing like a food-based idiom, eh? I’m hoping you’ll have something to say about it all in the comments section. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Wordnik, Merriam-Webster,Dictionary.com, & Webb Garrison’s Why You Say It (1992 - Thomas Nelson) Generally, a Wordmonger post offers up information. This week, I’m hoping to turn the tables & collect information. Lately I’ve become interested in turns of phrase that are still very much alive, yet no longer make literal sense because technology has changed and made these terms archaic, forcing them from the sensible, literal world into the figurative universe of idioms. I can’t find reference to this phenomenon, so I’ve taken the liberty of calling such terms archidioms (archaic + idiom). It’s the rare TV or radio today that has a switch in need of turning, but we continue to turn on the TV & radio (or for that matter, turn them off). Though no turning is involved, we’ve held onto the phrase. We used to grab the seat belts from the floorboards, lift them to our laps and buckle up. These days most of us reach up to find the seat belt, then pull it down in order to buckle up. Hmmm. Though it makes no sense at all, after saying good-bye on our cell phones, we hang up the phone. And even on those phones we actually can Generally, a Wordmonger post offers up some information. This week, though, I’m hoping to turn the tables & collect information. Lately I’ve become interested in turns of phrase that are still very much alive, yet no longer make literal sense because technology has changed and made these terms archaic, forcing them from the sensible, literal world into the figurative universe of idioms. I can’t find reference to this phenomenon, so I’ve taken the liberty of calling such terms archidioms (archaic + idiom). It’s the rare TV or radio today that has a switch in need of turning, but we continue to turn on the TV & radio (or for that matter, turn them off). Though no turning is involved, we’ve held onto the phrase. We used to grab the seat belts from the floorboards, lift them to our laps and buckle up. These days most of us reach up to find the seat belt, then pull it down in order to buckle up. Hmmm. Though it makes no sense at all, after saying good-bye on our cell phones, we hang up the phone. And even on those phones we actually can hang up, how do we enter phone numbers? We dial. When a distracted friend’s phone starts quacking, or singing “The Hallelujah Chorus” or “Jeremiah was a bullfrog” we say, “Hey! Your phone's ringing.” There have to be dozens more terms that once made literal sense, but have been forced into Idiomland due to the inexorable march of technology. Good readers, please sort through your wonderful brains & leave any new archidioms in the comments section. As noted three posts ago, recent DNA findings have placed some very unlikely animals under the ungulate (hoofed mammals) umbrella: whales, dolphins & porpoises. Most closely related to the hippopotamus, whales, dolphins & porpoises (also known as cetaceans) no longer have an order of their own. Scientists haven’t quite settled over whether cetaceans are a suborder or infra-order of ungulates. The word cetacean entered English in 1830 from Modern Latin, meaning any large sea creature. The Latin term was derived from the Greek word ketos, whale or sea monster. No one knows the source of ketos. The Old English word hwæl, which meant both whale & walrus, gave us the word whale. Our modern idiom whale of a/n _______, meaning big or excellent showed up in 1900. One of many whales is the killer whale. The word killer showed up in the 1400s from the English word kill (which first appeared in the 1200s), & meant one who strikes, beats or knocks. Though we’re not 100% sure, kill may have come from the Old English word cwellan, to kill. Cwellan is also the most likely suspect for the source of qualm & quell. Our idiom to kill time kicked in about 1728. The figurative meaning of killer, impressive person or thing appeared in 1900, and the term killer instinct showed up in the world of boxing in 1931. And getting back to cetaceans, the killer whale was first called that in 1725. In the early 1300s the word porpas appeared in English, from the Old French word porpais, which translates ingloriously to pork fish. Interestingly, the German word for porpoise translates literally to sea hog. It’s likely the somewhat pig-like snout of the porpoise may be responsible for both words, though a modern etymologist might wonder whether those long-ago French & German porpoise-namers may have sensed a deeper connection to the porpoise’s distant ungulate cousin, the pig. Our word dolphin came from French in the mid-1300s. We can trace dolphin back through Old French, Medieval Latin, Latin & Greek to the word delphinos, meaning dolphin. This Greek root is closely related to delphys, meaning womb. Etymologists suggest Ancient Greeks found it remarkable that instead of coming from eggs, the progeny of this “fish” arrive through live birth. Dear readers. If you’ve got anything to say about these water-bound “hoofed mammals,” please do so in the comments section. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Wordnik, Science Direct, Ultimate Ungulate,Etymonline, & the OED. Thanks for tuning into the third of three posts on up, a brief list of a few more idioms that employ the word up. 1700s – to cheer up or become happier 1700s – bottoms up or cheers! 1809 – toss-up or an even matter 1818 – to turn up one’s nose or show disdain 1823 – to upend or turn over 1844 – to buck up or cheer up 1860 – to jack up or hoist or raise 1881 – to whoop it up or make a joyful disturbance 1896 – all choked up or overcome with emotion 1903 – to live it up or live extravagantly 1904 – to jack up or raise a price 1926 - to wrap up or put an end to 1933 – to mess up or make a mess of 1935 – to shack up or cohabit 1960 – upchuck or vomit Please use the comments section to remark on any of these terms or the dates they appeared. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Go English, Albert Jack, Etymonline, & the OED. The versatile two-letter word up can function in English as an adverb, noun, verb, or adjective. Up plays a role in countless idioms & compound words. I hope you enjoy the few that follow. 1400 – shut up - This idiom’s original meaning was to keep from view or use. It wasn’t until 1814 that it applied to shutting one’s mouth. 1530s – grow up -- This idiom may have come from the late 1300s term grown-up, which was originally an adjective meaning mature, & added its noun meaning an adult in 1813. The directive, grow up, meaning be sensible, showed up in 1951. 1550s – start-up – This verb, meaning rise up, came from the term upstart, which appeared back in 1200. By the 1590s start-up added to its meanings, come suddenly into being. 1811 - up to snuff - This idiom appeared some 160 years after the practice of inhaling powdered tobacco into the nose became all the rage in England. Its original meaning was sharp, wide awake, not easy to deceive, & most likely reflects the somewhat caffeine-like effects of snorting powdered tobacco. 1830 – seven-up – A children’s game that added a new & carbonated meaning in 1928. 1841 – smash up – A collision. 1897 – dustup – This term means a fight. It probably grew out of the 1680s ironic idiom to dust someone’s coat, which meant to beat someone soundly. 1977 - upload – A word we hear & understand constantly these days, yet just a few decades ago it would have left us all with wrinkled brows. Please use the comments section to tell me what’s up. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Merriam Webster, Wordnik, Etymonline, & the OED. |
I write for teens & tweens, bake bread, play music, and ponder the wonder of words in a foggy little town on California's central coast.
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November 2023
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