149 Words

Words, Words, Words

Without words, we do not communicate. Without words, we can express our thoughts.

Most words in a culture, in a language family, stay the same for years. 

I know there are words that we have lost in the American English vocabulary that were brilliant in their time and now rarely used. 

My grandmother used the word “chuffy” often enough that I remember it. What she meant by that, I believe, was stuffy and a bit pompous. She used it to describe a fellow Episcopalian on the altar guild. You know what? I think I know some chuffy people today. 

Grandmother did not, however, ever have a “kerfuffle” with this person that I ever heard about. (Still makes sense in context, doesn’t it?) Maybe she was hoping for divine retribution as a “comeuppance” for snootiness. I will never know, but I think the thought on the right is too clever not to share! 

However (and perhaps, the older “henceforth”), I am adding some brilliant new words to my vocabulary. I love the new teen word “conversate.” Although the Merriam-Webster Dictionary calls it non-standard, it makes so much sense. We are conversing; we are having a conversation. We conversate. Is there a problem?

Other current slang that is working itself into the vernacular vocabulary is “shade.” I can throw some shade when I am irritated. Again, good ole Merriam-Webster came through with this definition: subtle, sneering expression of contempt with or disgust. Just say SHADE! and nothing else. People in the know will get the picture that you are being just a little sarcastic. 

On the other end of the spectrum, do not--unless it is Halloween--say “Boo” anymore to children and teens. Boo now means “my sweetheart.” Since my husband and I have been married for 40 years, I can safely call him “my boo.” Actually, there is a funny story how I learned this word. I was substituting in a local elementary school when a girl got up out of her seat during a lesson and walked out the door into the hallway. I asked her where she thought she was going. She said, and I kid you not, “‘my boo’ walks down the hall to lunch this time every day and he’ll be mad if I’m not there for him.” Elementary school!

I also use my friend Walter’s “

assorterate.” One can both prioritize and sort at the same time. Thus, I have been “assorterating.” And, as always, I have much assorterating I should be doing from cleaning out closets to admitting there are some magazines I need to throw out that I will never get around to reading! I think this is quite a good word.

Also, thanks to texting and Twitter, many of us now use “sup” for “what’s up with you?” I am surprised that “Gucci” is one of the hot slang terms teens use. It means it’s something good or very cool. I’m a little surprised that of all the top labels, Gucci got chosen. 

And, parents of teens, I just today picked this one up. If you see your teens post the number 9 or say “9!” be on the alert. It means they know a parent or teacher is on the alert. A new warning system?

I will leave you with the idea that some old words were great and that there are some new words that will probably stay around for a while.  I think again of my grandmother’s admonition of “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” Now I can mutter “shade!” 

Or I pull out the Southern saying, “WELL, BLESS HER HEART.” This little sentence we know can mean anything from what a nice person she is to that she’s dumb as a rock and ugly, too.

               Somewhat Savvy Glenne

148 News, news

News, news, and more news

Real news, constant news, breaking news--there is a never-ending barrage of news alerts, minute by minute, hour by hour, everywhere and anywhere.

Cell phones ding as the latest alerts are posted. The term breaking news is almost humorous as news is always breaking--24 hours a day.

I have to admit I have been a news hound all my life—I woke up to the sounds of the Today Show with Dave Garroway from the early age of 6. Our family bought a TV when I was in the first grade. From then on, the morning and evening news were staples in our house. The morning was the national news and the evening the local that came from nearby cities. 

Plus the afternoon local paper and the morning state paper were delivered and read daily from cover to cover. We never relied on just one source.

In between, my dad was the reporter of the local news for the family before the afternoon edition was delivered. He would head to work each morning and circle through town to see what had happened that night. If it was something that couldn’t wait, he would come back by the house to report to my mom who would spread the word through her telephone circle. Events such as fires, break-ins, accidents, vandalism would make the cut.

I really don’t know how he got the scoop that quickly but he did. Remember that was well before cell phones and the Internet. So from this background, a true news junkie was born.

Now more than six decades later, it is a totally different world with multi-faceted sources as well as social media constantly providing up-to-date notices. Newspapers especially struggle to stay afloat because of around-the-clock access to breaking news. Some huge print news outlets such as the Washington Post and New York Times have mastered the constant news alerts but follow up with more details in the paper editions. 

For my generation who still want to hold a paper in hand every morning (afternoon editions are a thing of the past), the print edition still satisfies that tactile desire. For many of us, the digital version suffices and gives us a more portable way to have the news with us. 

Small town papers have a really difficult task as they try to compete with online outlets, sort of like Amazon with brick and mortar stores.

The owners have to have deep pockets and a steady revenue stream not reliant on subscriptions and advertising. The trend is for large companies to purchase these small papers and keep them afloat even though the founders couldn’t do it. What a tremendous mission these owners have to accomplish--saving the newspaper industry.

When network TV news shows try to keep up, it is a struggle. Rarely is there anything new on the evening news shows. The only thing they can do is try a different perspective or reveal some obscure fact that pertains but is not pertinent. The face-to-face interviews are very effective of controversial or epic events. Morning shows have a little advantage since the news of the day is just beginning but it is so competitive as the public has usually been alerted during the night.

We all must do our part if we value news of the highest order. Maintain subscriptions on the local, state, and national levels--print or digital. Digital is a little cheaper so try to at least handle two subscriptions. Share stories that are important to all levels so others are informed with the latest and best coverage.

Support TV news by signing up for alerts and social media postings. Also, share these articles when they are relevant and striking. Try social media (Facebook, Twitter, etc.) and share what is important. More than one source is the best way to go.

I cannot imagine what the next 50-some years will bring, but I am sure it will be exciting. Hopefully, some young news hounds will develop through this intricate maze of alerts delivered in so many unique ways.

               Newsy Fran

147 Prom night--not

Prom night--NOT

I guess I started it all by reminiscing about my accidental College Queen status. But Glenne continued! 

She went to her high school prom as a reporter--with her dad. I should have thought of that--I did not go to mine.

The year is 1965; I am a 16-year-old senior at a Charleston, S.C. high school. It is my second year here after my Navy family moved from Virginia Beach to Charlestown. Somehow in changing schools, I managed to skip my sophomore year.

So I was a year younger than my classmates. I was one of the smart ones too--on the school newspaper staff and in the honor society. I probably did not endear myself to my fellow classmates by telling almost everyone at this segregated school that I didn't see what the big deal was about integration, that I had gone to integrated schools before (not Virginia, but an overseas military school).

And I was also a jock--I swam freestyle and butterfly on the local YMCA swimming team. I had a crush on the tall guy on the high school basketball team. I mean, he was tall; I was tall. He was a jock; I was a jock. I was smart; whoops! Anyway, I don't think I ever said a word to him! By the way, do you remember those guys? They were tall but today's players could probably push them over with a strong breath. That isn't him in the photo; I think he was thinner and less muscular! 

Anyway, I really thought I should go. My (hah!) basketball player had a girlfriend so I cast around for another. My next choice was a lot shorter, kind of chubby, not athletic but very smart. (He got a perfect score on his math SAT.) 

I doubted anyone else was going with him, so I asked him to go with me to the prom. He replied that he didn't do dances. I was part sorry and part relieved. I had wondered if he knew how to dance. I was sure he, unlike my sister and I, was not a faithful viewer of American Bandstand.

So I sat out my senior prom. But I got my revenge in college by attending lots of dances, including the Virginia Tech Ring Dance.

Now Harry says we are too old to dance!

Trish        

146 Bucket list

My Depressing Bucket List 

Oh, dear Readers, just reread Savvy Trish and Savvy Frances. Depressed me! I fear I was never a beauty queen. The idea of an evening gown was just not my style. I took my Father and my camera to the prom for the school newspaper. 

My look then and now is country classic. No bling here! But I did do lots of drama--in high school and with the local adult thespian group--until Motherhood arrived. In one hillbilly play, A Feudin’ over Yonder (no Emmy for that author), I was Mountain Maggie, the hunch-backed white witch with a bag-lady outfit as I hobbled with my grandfather’s cane across the stage. 

The next year, I was cast as Mrs. VanderVanter, the snobby villain. I got to wear a mink coat (yep, it was real and it was really HOT). I even had a cigarette holder (with white rolled up paper tipped with red marker stuck at the end of it). Later, I was one of the three ladies-in-waiting in a local production of “Once upon a Mattress.” I surrender. You win! Both of you!

Thinking about theatre, though, brought me to my “bucket list.” And I loved the movie of the same name. 

I read 26 (using Google) randomly selected bucket lists by both noted folks and regular folks. So far, in my bucket are:

1. Never get cancer again

2. Have enough money to not worry about paying bills

3? 4? 5?

I am finding this very, very sad. Okay, depressing.

There is honestly no place in the world I yearn to go. I worked three summers as a travel agent and went all over Europe and the beautiful and exotic third-world countries I wanted to see traveling with my family. I loved St. Petersburg. My favorite cities are Italian--Florence and Venice. 

The best trip ever was Egypt--from Cairo to Aswan with two weeks of stops. This was long enough ago that we did go down into the tombs in the Valley of the Kings, rode camels to the pyramids, and saw many, many HUGE Ramses statues. 

In the U.S., I love New York City. I even used my slush fund for a tiny, teeny studio for several years. Oh, the energy, the excitement, the wonder. But, been there, done that, have lots of t-shirts, street corner bags, and pashminas.

Some of the bucket list ideas I read and my lifestyle absolutely did not click. I am a reader, game player, and believer in volunteering. I do not like the outdoors very much. Each season has its own particular beauty, but I like the outdoors from inside with a big window. I hate mosquitoes who can find me in a crowd!

Here are some of the Google ideas that made me laugh: Run in the Boston Marathon (yeah, right), take a cycling vacation (haven’t been on a bike in 30 or more years), parachute from a plane (hey, I don’t like to change light bulbs if I have to stand on a ladder), and learn to cook or sew. I cook well enough so that 

we do not go hungry, and--you will love this--got thrown out of Home Economics class in high school because my required apron that we all had to make fell apart. I laughed (oh, that was a BIG OLE NO, NO) and told the teacher “I could care less about aprons” (sassy!!!)-–“no one I knew ever wore them.” Off to the principal, wrote an apology letter, and transferred to the typing class. 

One decent site suggested we reimagine all the things we thought we would do from childhood until now and see what interests remained. 

When I was little, I wanted to be a Queen with lots of servants and beautiful jewels. (So realistic right along with all 6th-grade boys who want to be professional sports icons). 

The only recurring consideration I could find for the long haul was to get a Ph.D. I have looked into this several times. Why have I never done it? I cannot fathom a subject that interests me enough to put in all the work.

With majors in sociology and anthropology, lots of statistics, and a master’s in education, I have sophomoric knowledge on many topics, but never have I had a career passion. Never. No passions – lots of interests. 

Sad, isn’t it? Hmm… perhaps I should put in my bucket:

3. Figure out what I want to do IF I ever grow up.

I seek your guidance and your suggestions. What’s on YOUR bucket list that is non-athletic and not travel-based? Oh, and not dependent on being born royal. I would love to hear from you. I think I need HELP!

Not so Savvy Glenne                

145 To the stage

Taking to the stage

Watching the recent award shows and seeing the gorgeous array of gowns and costumes, takes me back to my days on stage--short-lived as it was.

Our high school thespian troupe put on class plays, radio shows, and some one-act performances. Our leader was the fearless Mrs. J. (short for Juergensmeyer), who was also the chorus director, French teacher, and wife of our high school principal. Mrs. J’s presence was formidable as well as striking and most students wanted to be part of her world.

My high school Thespian pin

My drama experience actually began in junior high school with skits and shows during lunchtime but was enhanced in high school with more formal auditions and stage times. Tryouts were open and anyone could give it a whirl. Not sure why I thought I could do it, but I did. The experience brought to life the adage, "all the world’s a stage," and helped me handle my future performances as a classroom teacher.

Once the cast was announced, the playbooks soon followed. It was thrilling just to look at these exotic paperbacks and imagine what magic they held. As we delved into big-time rehearsals, costumes were considered and some ordered. I will never forget the day the large cardboard box arrived from New York City with the precious cargo. As we unpacked the contents, I realized I would actually get to wear this period piece that came from a costume company in the big city for my part as the villain in the Mistress of Mellyn by Victoria Holt. 

I had no idea that costumes could be ordered, much less delivered to our high school deep in the Appalachian Mountains. I was smitten and totally over the moon with excitement. I think my performance was affected by that special dress from NYC. Friends and family couldn’t believe my acting as a deranged killer. I had actually tried out for a different part but the advisers must have had a sixth sense when it came to acting potential.

This renting of costumes was very alien to all of us in those days. My mom would usually buy or have outfits made if we needed them for school performances. What a relief to have them sent to us almost like magic but for sure, someone was footing the bill – we never asked.

Renting outfits is an idea that definitely comes to fruition as dresses (wedding, prom, special occasions) are now readily available--why didn’t someone think of this sooner? Men have it right as they have rented tuxedos for generations!

But back to the stage--another part of our thespian adventures was a weekly, 30-minute radio show. We would be assigned a part and would meet Sunday afternoons on the stage of the high school little theater to broadcast on the local radio station. We were never sure anyone listened except our families, of course, but we had a great time vocalizing these short plays.

In addition to the many thespian activities at the high school, Mrs. J. would organize field trips to attend artist series performances at Marshall University in Huntington, W.Va. about 60 miles away. Nothing was as magical as watching the action unfold in the beautiful Keith-Albee Theatre that is now listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Camelot with Robert Goulet was one of the masterpieces we were fortunate enough to attend. 

This whetted my appetite for the theater and continued when I attended Marshall a couple of years later. Prominent actors and entertainers such as Johnny Mathis came to the lovely city on the Ohio River--bringing fantasy and make believe to a world of coal miners and steel mills. It brightened our days and filled our nights with wonder.

My theatrical career did not continue in college or in my adult years. In college, I pursued a writing curriculum that took all the extra time I had to write and edit for the school publication, The Parthenon.

We left those mountains after college graduation and moved to the top of Virginia. But my interest never waned as I continued as a patron of the arts and passed on my love to my children and grandchildren. My daughter and her family attend a performance of The Nutcracker ballet every holiday season or it just doesn’t seem like Christmas.

For years, I combined my writing and theater passions as I reviewed plays for the newspaper. As a high school and middle school teacher, I set up and planned field trips each year to theatrical productions far and near. We are fortunate to live so close to many venues including the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C.

I have to give thanks to Mrs. J., for giving my classmates and me a great start!

Frances            

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