. . . where my dark side is revealed.

“Good Job” is my current least favorite phrase. Take a walk through a suburban mall and count the number of times you hear it—from a mother while she helps with personal care in a restroom; or from a father to a child who allows himself to be buckled into a stroller. One time I was stuck in elevator while a toddler insisted on pushing the button, though he was too short to reach it. Finally the mother lifted the child, he pushed the button, and—yes—”Good job!” the mother said.

In my day (this is a historical blog) “Good job,” if it was heard at all, referred to handing over babysitting money, and the tone was more like “there better be a bigger wad next time.”

An unsurprising corollary to “Good job” is preschool graduation, complete with tiny caps and gowns. What? All that fuss when all the kid did was allow himself to be driven to school?

While I’m on this tack, I might as well get off my chest some other phrases that, for whatever reason, drive me crazy.

No worries. This can mean anything from “I’ll take care of it” to “It’s okay that you ran into me.” It can also mean “You’re welcome,” which is the same number of syllables, so where’s the advantage?

Going forward. Admittedly, the person who uses this the most is a current (7/22/18) spokesperson on TV. She uses it instead of “in the future” (too vague for someone purportedly giving us specifics?) or “I have no idea when”.

The last time I accepted a "young lady" comment.

Young lady. When spoken to me (old, gray, sporting a cane) exclusively by men, young and old. No woman of any age has ever called me “young lady” – we know better. I wish I could think of a good comeback. “May you die young” is probably too harsh. What if I add “so you won’t have to hear this” — still too harsh?

Happy Mother’s Day. Another phrase that seems directed only to women. Personally, I have no reason to celebrate this “holiday” – I didn’t have a mother in the traditional sense of someone who loved me unconditionally, nor have I ever been a mother. I noticed no one wished my husband a Happy Father’s Day, even though he actually is one. Next year, I might respond, “Thanks. All my children are in jail.”

It is what it is. Just say “I heard, you but I have no advice whatsoever, and really don’t feel like hammering this out with you.” Just sayin’.

We’re a puzzle/quote family. My husband (aka The Cable Guy) and I do puzzles together and separately—crosswords, acrostics, jumbles, cryptograms, word games.

Many of the solutions end up as quotes. And some of those quotes end up with a permanent place on our walls.

Here are a few favorites:

• There are two kinds of truth, small truth and great truth. You can recognize a small truth because its opposite is a falsehood. The opposite of a great truth is another truth. — Niels Bohr

• The obscure we see eventually. The completely obvious, it seems, takes longer. — Edward R. Morrow

• My only concern was to get home after a hard day’s work. — Rosa Parks

• I’m astounded by people who want to ‘know’ the universe when it’s hard enough to find your way around Chinatown. — Woody Allen

• Women are the largest untapped reservoir of talent in the world. — Hillary Clinton

And one of my all-time favorites (winter person that I am):

Every year, back Spring comes,

with the nasty little birds

yapping their fool heads off.

— Dorothy Parker

It’s one of those weeks when I have to search for something to celebrate. April Fool has passed, and it’s 2 weeks till we can honor Paul Revere.

April 3 was Alec Baldwin’s birthday, but he’s getting enough attention lately. (Congratulations on that Emmy, Alec!) April 5, 1908 is Bette Davis’s birthday, but who remembers her?

It’s also National Caramel Day and National Dandelion Day. Ho hum.

Never mind those. Instead, I thought I’d learn a new word. I started with my favorite research spot: the public domain collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Here it is, image and all: a lappet.

French, early 19th century

Dictionary definition:

A post repurposed from LadyKillers, BUT more appropriate here since the Dog Days period ends today August 11.

Apparently this phrase dates back to the ancient Greeks (doesn’t everything?) and has to do with a constellation that looks like a dog (Canis Major) chasing one that looks like a rabbit (Lepus).

The star Sirius (14^th c.), the brightest in the constellation, is at the dog’s nose. The meaning of the phrase has morphed into a characterization of the period of Sirius’s rising, from July 3 to August 11, a period marked by lethargy, inactivity, or indolence.

Never mind that in (roughly) 13,000 years, the dog star Sirius will be rising with the sun in mid-winter.

Some imagination those ancients had. It took an entire semester-long course in college for me just to match the names, the gods, and the myths.

What interests me is how, and how come, so many of the names have survived. For example, the multi-channel radio in my car is by Sirius. It seems incongruous that I’m listening to Willie’s Roadhouse on a service with a name that dates back at least 7 centuries and means scorching.

The Nova laser, one generation after Shiva, from the Latin, meaning new.

One of the world’s most powerful lasers of the 20^th century was named Shiva, the name of a Hindu god, the Destroyer. Apt, I suppose, since Shiva the laser decimated any target it was aimed at.

But wouldn’t you think there’d be a more modern hi-tech name, indicative of the high-level technology that brought Shiva into existence?

Maybe this is why LASER is one of my favorite words, the acronym for Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. There are no gods associated with it; no wars, no constellations, no etymology traceable to the ancients. While not the first acronym, the word itself has no other origin.

So, maybe the Dog Days of Summer can be called Dodaysum, and in 1000 years or so, someone will think she was a 21^st century goddess who lay around all day.

And now, speaking of new words: I think I’ll make my Blexit.    <groan> Come on, admit it if you get this!

Continuing the spirit of back to school, I was eager to learn a new word. Here’s one.

Acersecomic (noun): a person whose hair has never been cut. For example, my 3-year-old grandniece is an acersecomic. I can hardly wait to teach her how to write it.

Act of rejection of acersecomic-ness

Granted, the word hasn’t appeared since some time in the 17^th century, but I’d hate to see a good word go to waste.

If you care about its etymology: The word is from the Latin acersecomes, a long-haired youth, a word borrowed from an earlier Greek word made up of keirein, to cut short; kome, the hair of the head; and the prefix a-, meaning not.

What’s your odd word of the day?

It’s the age of para.

Paramedics, paralegals, paraprofessionals, parapsychology, and everyone’s current favorite paranormal.

Formerly used to indicate side by side, its newer meaning is closer to an ancillary status, or almost, as in paralegal.

Another meaning of para is “guarding against,” as in a parasol, which guards against the sun, and a parachute, which guards against free fall.

My latest run-in with para is with the word paraprosdokian.

Def.: A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes the reader or listener to reinterpret the first part. It’s frequently used for humorous or dramatic effect. For this reason, it’s extremely popular among comedians and satirists.

Some examples:

• War does not determine who is right, only who is left.

• Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

• A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. What’s a work station?

• Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

• Always borrow money from a pessimist. He won’t expect it back.

And my favorite:

• To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.

Do you have any paras to add?