What's In A Word?

Of course it's not.

Well, I’ll tell ya.

A lot.

I know what you’re thinkin’. I’m about to go off on profanity laced rant about profanity. Well, I’m not. I think. I’m kinda just typing as I go.

All while watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Thank you USA!

The network. Not the country. Although it was made in the US. I think. Oh hell, I don’t care.

All franchise films need a Temple of Doom. Terminator: And The Temple of Doom. Lord of the Rings: And the Temple of Doom. Diary of a Wimpy Kid: And the Temple of Doom. It all makes sense.

Back to the point. What’s in a word?

I have two words I’d like to talk about right now.

#1: THE

That’s right. The word “the”. Here’s why it’s so important.

You meet somebody at a party. You’re getting drunk. No, wait, you’re getting hammered. You meet Jay Leno. Hold on… Jay Leno? THE Jay Leno? No? Just Jay Eustace Leno. Yes, he is Jay Leno. Just not THE Jay Leno.

See how “the” works? Even when hammered, you know the difference between Jay Leno and THE Jay Leno. I am SO sorry THE Jay Leno.

Actually… no I’m not. If I met you at a party, I’d probably be getting hammered and asking you if you were “the” Jay Leno. Over and over. My memory ain’t so good when I’ve been drinking. Actually, it ain’t so good when I haven’t which may account for why I yammer on constantly about things I’ve already talked about when I’ve been drinking. Or so I’m told.

Let’s involve profanity now. I’m going to use the word “shit”. Not really a bad word. Really.

“Wow, Honey. Your cooking is shit.” Not a nice thing to say.

“Wow, Honey. Your cooking is the shit.” Nice thing to say.

I have seen exactly two movies with Kate Capshaw in it. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and Space Camp. That’s it.

I get distracted easily.

Heh. Her character’s name in Doom is Wille. Heh.

#2: DRINKING (I know what you’re thinking and shut up.)

Talk about a powerful word. More powerful than “the”. Seriously.

If I said, “I’ve been drinking a lot lately.” The implication is that I’ve been hitting the bottle. And those of you who know me might assume that I’m becoming an alcoholic. I’m a homebrewer, so it’s pretty rare that I’m out of beer. And I likes the whisky. Mmmm, whiskey.

The simple truth is I’m drinking a lot of Crystal Light. Stephanie bought 900 single packets and I’m going through them like Halloween candy. So, I’m drinking a lot lately. Of water. Lotsa water. Flavored with Crystal Light. I think the marketing term is “enhanced”.

Someone says: “I quit drinking.” Obviously they mean they quit drinking alcohol. If they quit drinking EVERYTHING they’d die. Even if it was Crystal Light. Why would anyone quit drinking Crystal Light? I ask you.

How many roller coasters were based on the mine car chase in Doom? I wonder. Probably a bunch. Six Flags had a ride, as I recall. It was better if you had been drinking.

Then it was the shit.

She quit drinking. Obviously.

2012 Bitch

"Philosophy is the shit, dude." - Socrates

That’s right! In case you didn’t know.

Last Thursday we had our park day with one of the homeschool groups we belong too. This is a good group because it is small, and for the most part all girls my girls’ age.

One of the moms there, Andrea, bought a neat lesson course. It’s philosophy for young elementary aged kids. She wanted to give it a try in a small group and since we met once a week for the park day anyway, it was worth a shot.

We met up at the top of the hill, very scenic, in a large wooden gazebo. The weather was perfect. The ladies and I sat quietly after gathering the children onto a red blanket. Of course the kids are used to running around and generally going nuts on park day, so a took a while to settle them down.

When they finally stopped jumping around like electrons Andrea started the lesson.

Andrea: “Ok. Did your mom or dad tell you what we are doing today?”

Zoey: “No.”

Me: “Yes I did!”

Andrea: “Well, we’re going to read a short story and then talk about it. Is that ok?”

Zoey: “2012 bitch!”

And she said it like she had just dunked over Shaquille O’Neal. Of course all eyes are on me.

My first instinct was to pretend she wasn’t my kid. My second was to shrug and say, “Well… it is.” Instead I said, “I have no idea…”

But one of the other moms came to my rescue. She pointed out it was written in heavy black marker all over the wooden top beams of the gazebo. I hadn’t seen it because I was wearing sunglasses.

All I can say is she knows how to sound out new words. My girls can read.

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