lagniappe

a very familiar word, which I can both pronounce and spell. Also a very frustrating word because I cannot for the life of me define it without looking it up. Arggh!

Definition of lagniappe:
“la·gniappe (lăn'yəp, lăn-yăp')
n. Chiefly Southern Louisiana & Mississippi.

1. A small gift presented by a storeowner to a customer with the customer's purchase.
2. An extra or unexpected gift or benefit. Also called boot. See Regional Note.

[Louisiana French, from American Spanish la ñapa, the gift : la, the (from Latin illa, feminine of ille, that, the) + ñapa (variant of yapa, gift, from Quechua, from yapay, to give more).]

REGIONAL NOTE: Lagniappe derives from New World Spanish la ñapa, “the gift,” and ultimately from Quechua yapay, “to give more.” The word came into the rich Creole dialect mixture of New Orleans and there acquired a French spelling. It is still used in the Gulf States, especially southern Louisiana, to denote a little bonus that a friendly shopkeeper might add to a purchase. By extension, it may mean “an extra or unexpected gift or benefit.” ” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
11/14/08 NYT article, “The Wild Wordsmith of Wasilla” by Dick Cavett.

“PS: Lagniappe for English mavens: A friend of mine has made you laugh greatly over the years. ... As a language fan, he has preserved many gems for posterity in his prodigious memory bank. Here comes my favorite:

A Navy lecturer was talking about some directives on the blackboard that he said to do something about, “except for these here ones with the asteroids in back of.”

Even David couldn’t make that up.”

My two cents:
Thanks as always to Dick Cavett for another smart column, and for reminding me of “lagniappe.”

I’ve had my fill of his subject matter, however: that frightening woman from the frozen north; poster girl for the Peter Principle; supreme goddess of screwed up syntax; all-around enigma, or should I say anathema??? Why did/do so many Americans like her? That’s Cavett’s question, and mine, too. It would be nice if she’d go quietly, now. Wouldn’t that be a beneficent parting gift, a truly lovely lagniappe from her to the country? Fat chance, friends. The press won’t leave her alone, and vice versa. She isn’t going away. Like the scary thing in a really bad horror movie, she keeps coming ba-a-a-ck. Cue the creepy music and cover your eyes. The show ain’t over.

Who ya gonna call, gosh darn it.

There Are No Words Today

Our first post-election day dawns. Barack Obama is the 44th president-elect of the United States.

Today I am hopeful.

Today I am grateful.

Today I am speechless.

Today there simply are no words.

tyro

ringing a bell here, but truthfully… uh, nope, nobody’s home

Definition of tyro:
n., ty·ro also ti·ro (tī'rō)

“One who is just starting to learn or do something: abecedarian, beginner, fledgling, freshman, greenhorn, initiate, neophyte, novice, novitiate, tenderfoot. Slang rookie.” [Medieval Latin t[ymacr]rō, squire, variant of Latin tīrō, recruit.] (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
11/1/08 NYT article, “Who’s The Question Mark?,” by Maureen Dowd.

“…While acknowledging he was a tech tyro, he promised to try “a Google,” as he called searching the Web, to put government spending online so citizens could bird-dog it.…”

My two cents:
Tuesday can’t come soon enough. I just got an ugly robo call – on Sunday morning, people – tattling on Barack Obama’s aunt, of all things. I’m sure it won’t be the only one between now and Tuesday. Holy Mother of God. Make it stop.

What’s up with this tiny little word, tyro, that I should have never met its acquaintance in my entire life? I am now reminded that I am but a tyro, myself, in this whole business of words and language. But, hey, I’m not beating myself up over it. To paraphrase Jerry Clower, one can’t know everything that’s in every book in every library, can one?

I attended a lecture years ago where the speaker confessed to an outrageous fantasy. As a once-fledgling, hyper vigilant student of horticulture, she actually aspired to an ultimate goal of owning (not just learning the names of, but actually owning) one of every kind of plant there is. We all shook our heads and had a good laugh over that notion, but it stayed with me. “The Goal,” I decided that day, isn’t a stopping point at which we have acquired, or have done, or now know it all, is it? No, “The Goal,” I decided, is not a static destination, but a constant and vibrant process, a long and winding road of humble discovery, discernment, and continued enlightenment that never ends. It's a good and joyful thing, and it's up to me to walk it, or not.

mestizo

another new word for me

Definition of mestizo:
“mes·ti·zo (mĕs-tē'zō)

n. A person of mixed racial ancestry, especially of mixed European and Native American ancestry.

[Spanish, mixed, mestizo, from Old Spanish, mixed, from Late Latin mixtīcius, from Latin mixtus, past participle of miscēre, to mix.]” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
10/29/31 NYT op-ed column, “American Stories” by Roger Cohen.

“…He is the providential mestizo whose name — O-Ba-Ma — has the three-syllable universality of some child’s lullaby.…”

My two cents:
We’re in the home stretch kids. The presidential election is in a few short days. I’ve had more than my fill of all the campaigning drama, most especially the desperate, last minute mud-slinging and frantic finger-pointing. I’m not naming names. I’m just sayin.’ Enough already.

Roger Cohen’s beautiful op-ed piece is a rare and quiet gift in these raucous last few days before the election. You simply must read it. I can only say thanks, and thanks again – thanks for the new word, but thanks mostly for the eloquent calm within the storm.

synecdoche

Color me clueless.

Definition of synecdoche:
“[si‐nek‐dŏki], a common figure of speech (or trope) by which something is referred to indirectly, either by naming only some part or constituent of it (e.g. ‘hands’ for manual labourers) or—less often—by naming some more comprehensive entity of which it is a part (e.g. ‘the law’ for a police officer). Usually regarded as a special kind of metonymy, synecdoche occurs frequently in political journalism (e.g.‘Moscow’ for the Russian government) and sports commentary (e.g. ‘Liverpool’ for one of that city's football teams), but also has literary uses like Dickens's habitual play with bodily parts: the character of Mrs Merdle in Little Dorrit is referred to as ‘the Bosom’.” (answers.com).

Where I ran across it:
10/24/08 NYT movie review, “Dreamer, Live in the Here and Now” by Mahnola Dargis, about the new movie “Synecdoche, New York.”

“…To say that Charlie Kaufman’s “Synecdoche, New York” is one of the best films of the year or even one closest to my heart is such a pathetic response to its soaring ambition that I might as well pack it in right now. …”

My two cents:
My friend, Cheryl, emailed me this awesome word, swearing she had never heard of it before. (Me, neither!) She didn’t tell me where she had seen it, but as soon as I opened my NYT for the day, there it was, big as life, in the movie reviews. It’s in the title of Charlie Kaufman’s new movie, “Synecdoche, New York” (not to be confused with, but pronounced with the same accents as Schenectady, New York. Coincidence? I think not.). What a great two-fer: not only is this a wonderful word, but rarely does one get the opportunity to piggy-back off the lessons learned just the day before (see yesterday’s blog entry: “tropism/trope” and today’s definition which includes “trope”). Schweet!!

What I gather from Dargis’ review is that this artsy, weird, non-linear, fascinating flick sounds like an existential cross between Hollywood's “The Truman Show,” Miller's “Death of a Salesman,” Shakespeare's "As You Like It," Sartre's “No Exit,” and an M.C. Escher "Impossible Drawing." It probably won’t make it to my small town. Too obtuse for our mainstream theaters, no doubt. But I’m going to make a point of finding it, and going to see it. Any movie that plants cerebral insider clues to its raison d’etre in, say, the lead character’s last name, Cotard, (go Google it!) is noteworthy in my book. ("The Simpsons," sophomoric as it is, earns my undying respect for similar genius, as in one episode when Marge’s prison uniform bears a number which, in fact, is Jean Valjean’s number in Les Miz. All hail the clever, esoteric inside joke!).

One of the lines from the “Synecdoche, New York” trailer says, “There are millions of people in the world and none of those people is an extra. They’re all leads in their own stories.” What a great tease for all of us Everymen/women. It strikes me as incredibly provocative; insightful, although not necessarily comforting. Feeling like an insignificant speck, a nobody? Buck up, pal. Remember: you are the lead in your own story. Cue the lights! All the world's a stage! Now get out there, sonny, and make us proud! But hey, no pressure, or anything…

tropism

Here’s a word I thought I knew -- and didn’t.

Definition of tropism:
n. (trohp-ism) “an involuntary orienting response; positive or negative reaction to a stimulus source ... The turning or bending movement of an organism or a part toward or away from an external stimulus, such as light, heat, or gravity.” (answers.com).

Not to be confused with the word, “trope,” which means:

n.

1. "A figure of speech using words in non-literal ways, such as a metaphor.
2. A word or phrase interpolated as an embellishment in the sung parts of certain medieval liturgies.
3. 1533, from L. tropus "a figure of speech," from Gk. tropos "turn, direction, turn or figure of speech," related to trope "a turning" and tropein "to turn," from PIE base trep- "to turn" (cf. Skt. trapate "is ashamed, confused," prop. "turns away in shame;" L. trepit "he turns"). Technically, in rhetoric, a figure of speech which consists in the use of a word or phrase in a sense other than that which is proper to it." (answers.com)
   

Where I ran across it:
10/21/08 NYT article, “Patio Man Revisited” by David Brooks.

“…But, most of all, there is a tropism toward order and stability. …”

My two cents:
Lesson for today: while different, trope and tropism still have the same meaning at their root: “Turn.”

Wait. I’m having a moment. “Turns” are popping, uninvited, into my head. It’s a veritable free-association fest in there:

Turn around bright eyes…

To everything turn, turn, turn…

Turn around and you’re tiny, turn around and you’re grown…

Turn your radio on…

Like a carousel that's turning, Running rings around the moon (...like the windmills of your mind)

And finally: “In olden days a hint of stocking was looked on as something shocking, now Heaven knows, anything goes…” I suppose this has absolutely nothing to do with turning, but I'm not editing this free-association fest. It's coming straight off the ol' ticker tape. Lucky you. Wait, I take that back. Metaphorically speaking, it has everything to do with turning. Ooh, look, a trope.

Somewhere along the way, we took a wrong turn. As The World Turns (upside down), our stomachs churn over an economy that has taken seriously ill, and is taking a daily turn for the worse. It's taken some time and effort, but thanks to greed, avarice, stupidity and denial, we have managed to dig ourselves an enormous economic hole. The once thriving economic worm has now turned, and we find ourselves looking straight into the gaping maw of uncharted madness. Banks, mortgage companies, big retail stores are going under daily, and dispossessed homeowners are turning their keys in their locks for the last time. Our economy is a nightmare, a bad joke. Wall Street's "turned funny," too. Nobody’s laughing. It’s a veritable, stomach-turning, blood-curdling “Turn of the Screw” horror story that has, indeed, “held us round the fire, sufficiently breathless.” Don’t hold your breath, people. It’s going to take some time to turn this boat around. This is no time for panic.

But Who Can We Turn To? Where destiny leads us, of course, where steady hand and calm head prevail. For life-saving sustenance and holy guidance I'm turning back, forswearing my foolish ways, and falling prostrate on the altar of the One, the Only: Warren Buffett. He has already written a re-assuring, post-apocalyptic epistle to the world in last week's NYT. Thanks be to Buffett. Amen.

Time’s up, kids. Pencils down. We've turned in our papers, and have failed miserably. We turn away in shame. The test of time, turns out, is a real bitch.

tautological

I really couldn't define this word, which surprises me because it is so familiar. I sure can define it now.

Definition of tautological:
“adj. Characterized by repetition and excessive wordiness: circumlocutionary, roundabout. See repetition, words.” (answers.com).

"n., pl. –gies
--Use of redundant language that adds no information.

--Logic. An empty or vacuous statement composed of simpler statements in a fashion that makes it logically true whether the simpler statements are factually true or false; for example, the statement Either it will rain tomorrow or it will not rain tomorrow.

--Poetry. The unnecessary and excessive repetition of the same idea in different words in the same sentence, as "The room was completely dark and had no illumination," or "A breeze greeted the dusk and nightfall was heralded by a gentle wind." (answers.com)

Where I ran across it:
l0/5/08 Fox News article, “SNL Slices, Dices Palin and Biden in Debate Sendup.”

“…If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Fey's presentation of Palin as a Bible-thumping, beauty queen with a tautological belief system suggests the comedy show loves the Alaska governor.…”

My two cents:
I’ll keep this short and to the point.

Sadly, the world now has a new, updated definition. Tautological = Sarah Palin. ‘Nuff said, wink-wink.

And by the way, here’s a shout-out to Sarah: It’s “nuclear." NU-CLE-AR!! How hard can that be?

Doggone it.