I got an e-mail from a friend of mine. She sent me the results of the Washington Post’s Mensa Invitational which once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.

“Mensa.” Isn’t that an organization for really smart people? She would belong to that. My husband says there is a lesser known organization for the rest of us, called “Densa.”

Anyway, I thought it was funny (it cracked us up, anyway) and that you should see the winners:

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who’s both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone ( n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n): The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor (n): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you’re eating.

The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words. And the winners are:

1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.
3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.
6. Negligent, adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.
7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence, n . Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle, n. A humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon, n. A Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

Did I tell y’all that I fell in love with Mr. Tucker because of his HUGE…

       …vocabulary?

I’ve always been fascinated by words, to the point that my Momma had to remove the dictionary from our bathroom “library.” I’d lock the door and spend hours in there reading while everyone in the family stood impatiently in line outside the door. I had never been around a man who had a better vocabulary than mine, until Mr. Tucker came along.

Today, after an extra stop at Starbucks for couple of Quad Venti Mochas With Whip (because we needed that fuel), we toodled on down the highway. We rounded the bend in the road and took the next exit because our car needed fuel, too. Adjacent to the gasoline station was another Starbucks. It had been a running joke with us as we toured San Francisco a few weeks ago that you can’t swing a dead cat in San Francisco without hitting another Starbucks. I think those folks have a municipal requirement that a Starbucks Coffee Shop must be located on every city block.

“Oh, Honey,” I said. “Look, we didn’t need to make that extra stop. Here is another Starbucks!”

“Indeed. They aren’t quite as ubiquitous here as they are in San Francisco, but there are a good many of those Starbucks.” he replied.

“Ooooh,” I cooed. “Ubiquitous! I like that word. That’s one of those ‘ten dollar words’ that my grandfather always talked about. Very impressive.”

“Yes,” he smirked. “It satisfies my propensity for sesquipedalia.”

Sigh.

Interlocution with that man is dadgum near impossible without a Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary!

Technorati Tags: vocabulary

I’ve always been fascinated by word origins, and in the last few days I’ve been chasing down eponyms. An “eponym” is a word derived from the name of a person, place or object. Many of the words we commonly use came from the trademarks for products. Others have some history that I find enjoyable, and hope you do as well.

I don’t know about you, but “aspirin” means just about any pain reliever to me. It even means “Tylenol” which has come to mean any acetaminophen tablet. When I search on the computer, I “Google,” even if I’m using Yahoo. A tissue is a “Kleenex,” even though I buy the cheaper store brand. If I make a copy, it’s always a “Xerox,” even if I use the computer. Any paper cup is a “Dixie cup.” Vinyl flooring is “linoleum” and a vacuum cleaner is a “Hoover.” In fact in England, hoover has become a verb, as in “Hoover” the linoleum. I wouldn’t be caught not wearing my “brassiere.” I’m too lazy to climb stairs, so I always take the “escalator.” All of those words were trademarks before they became generic terms.

Have you ever “botched” a job? Jeremy Botch did—in a big way. He was an English carpenter helping build the Brighton Pavilion. Bless his heart, he constructed a screen that fell on the head of the Prince Regent, so now his name will always be remembered. Today, we might say that incident was a “fiasco,” thanks to an Italian opera impresario who had a stage collapse during a play in 1837 and injure many of his cast members. The man’s name was Alessandro Fiasco. And, if Jeremy Botch was considered a “dunce,” that is because of John Duns Scotus (1266-1308). Scotus was a writer whose work must have been terrible.

If you are writing, pause to think about the “comma.” Punctuation marks can get you in big trouble. Just ask Domenico de Comma, who got charged with heresy during the Inquisition over that particular punctuation mark. Evidently, the original Bible didn’t have commas, and when Domenico inserted them, it was considered an affront to God. Be sure, if you are writing poetry, that it’s good poetry. The poems of Matthew Doggerel were rotten, so his verses are mostly forgotten (sorry).

If you are “batty,” don’t worry about it. Just hope not to suffer the fate of Fitzherbert Batty, who was a slightly eccentric, but harmless, barrister in Jamaica. He was certified insane in 1839, and the news made the press. His last name entered the language.

A well-known 17th century Parisian gambler named Pierre Buffet started the custom of letting his guests help themselves to the food at the side table. If you go to a “buffet” and have a “sandwich,” remember the Earl of Sandwich, who couldn’t leave his card game. Instead, he had his servant bring him a slice of meat between two pieces of bread. But, if you have a really big sandwich, your “Dagwood” owes its name to a cartoon character of the same name.

Are you having “avocado” on that sandwich? Jorge Avocado (1798-1868) was an Argentinean botanist who introduced the fruit to Europe. I wonder what they called the avocado before that? Sir George Curry (1826-1890) was a British general in India who liked spicy stews, thus “curry” bears his name. When you place a little “marmalade” on toast, remember Joao Marmalado (1450-1510) who boiled oranges with sugar in Portugal to make a breakfast jam. However, don’t go on a “binge,” which was named for Sir Oswald Binge (1678-1768) who consumed copious amounts of food and drink at meals that went on for a week!

The child star Shirley Temple and Mary I, Queen of England both left their mark on the bar tending world. That drink without alcohol is Shirley’s contribution. The “Bloody Mary,” of course, is the Queen’s. She earned her nickname of Bloody Mary because she loved to lop off the heads of Protestants). A blind Benedictine monk named Dom Perignon (1638-1715) invented champagne. The labels were not in “Braille,” because Louise Braille didn’t invent that system of writing for the blind until 1852.

You might find a “Casanova” in a “cabaret.” You might even have found the great adventurer and promiscuous lover Giovanni Casanova (1725-1798) in one. The time frame was right. Antoine de Cabaret (1749-1793) was the owner of the famous Café Rue du Bac in Paris, so nightclubs now bear her name.

Thank Etienne Corset (1760-1832) for that uncomfortable undergarment. Corsets were originally designed for army officers, and later adapted for women’s use. Jacob Trowser (1779-1848) lends his name to the pants he called “leggings.” Julius Leotard, a 19th century French aerial gymnast popularized the skin tight “leotards.” Mrs. Amelia Bloomer, an American social reformer, shocked the world with her loose fitting women’s trousers in 1851. Edward Stanley, the 12th Earl of Derby, was often seen in a felt hat with a domed crown and narrow rolled brim, the likes of which are now called a “derby.”

When you stop at a “kiosk” in the mall to buy a “gadget,” don’t forget that Imre Kiosk (1862-1921) made a fortune with his tiny stalls selling newspapers and cigarettes. Also remember Walter Gadget (1848-1918), who was an American businessman who made a fortune with ingenious household devices.

I could keep going for pages, because it seems you can’t drive down the street without meeting an eponym. In fact, if you are driving on a paved street, you can thank Leopold von Asphalt (1802-1880), a Bavarian who mixed sand, bitumen and pitch for making roads.

I’d be remiss to stop without reminding you of the poor unfortunate Thomas Crapper. Before his time, if one felt the call of nature and didn’t want to go to the outhouse, the only options were chamber pots (thunder mugs, as we call them around here) or closet stools. Thomas invented the first flush toilet, marketed as Crapper’s Valveless Water Waste Preventor. We use that wonderful device every day and still take the poor man’s name in vain. I don’t need to tell you I think that is a load of…well, I don’t think it’s very nice.

If you know any eponyms, please feel free to share your favorites. Post a comment or send me an e-mail, and I’ll put them on-line.