Saturday, May 31, 2008

Sorry About the Impromptu Sabbatical

Like how I employed two more words for our list there? Guess which ones they are.

To make up for my extended absence, I am offering the following two posts to fill the aching void that I carelessly created in your fragile souls. Far be it from me to continue to allow the threat of irreparable harm to your flailing spirits. It's a Saturday night. Luke is at Boy Scout camp for the weekend; Katy is at a sleepover; and Mike is out of the continent. I should be out with girlfriends tonight watching the Sex and the City movie, and maybe later getting free drinks at a bar when we make up a story that we're having a combination divorce/bachelorette party without ever telling who the lucky/unlucky girls are. I honestly have never tried this idea, but I have no doubt that it would serve its intended purpose quite well. But what am I doing on this Saturday night? Reveling in my solitude. Doing what I want to do most. Enjoying a glass of wine and writing without interruption. Do I need to get a life? Nope. This is my life. So sit back and relax because you are in for a treat the likes of which you probably have not seen since Nightmare on Elm Street.

First, here are some more words for you to chew on or spit out:

eschew, colloquy, excoriate (those are recent suggestions from my friend Chris --much more acceptable than his usual prissy offerings),

scofflaw, dilettante, peccadillo, quandary, wombat, wallaby, pandemonium, nebulous, paltry, pablum, hyoid, clavicle, patella, scapula, spatula, bellicose, obsequious,--

obsequious reminds me of a very special song from Steve Martin's Let's Get Small. He calls it Grandmother's Song. I've mentioned it here before. It is just so heartfelt and poignant, especially in these stressful times. I could just offer you a link to these lyrics and let you know that you can actually download this song from iTunes, but in my effort to both improve your life as well as contribute to the betterment of the universe as a whole, I am reprinting most of the lyrics right here:

Be courteous, kind and forgiving, Be gentle and peaceful each day, Be warm and human and grateful, And have a good thing to say.

Be thoughtful and trustful and childlike, Be witty and happy and wise, Be honest and love all your neighbors, Be obsequious, purple, and clairvoyant.

Be pompous, obese, and eat cactus, Be dull, and boring, and omnipresent, Criticize things you don't know about, Be oblong and have your knees removed.

Be tasteless, rude, and offensive, Live in a swamp and be three dimensional, Put a live chicken in your underwear, Get all excited and go to a yawning festival.


I know, it's silly. And it did seem a lot funnier back when I was doing more drugs than I do now. My favorite line of course is "Criticize things you don't know about." I certainly never do that, but I know a lot of people who do.

Here are a few of my favorite Spanish words which are pretty much an integral part of San Antonio parlance: cojones, loco, mijo, mija, and corazon. There are a bunch more, but most of them can be found on any good Mexican restaurant menu. (That reminds me, I think I'll have a margarita.) In this town where every other radio station is either Spanish or Tejano, I cannot escape earshot of the word corazon. Trust me, in this town you are destined to hear that word somewhere. Either at a restaurant, a car repair shop, a convenience store, when the hotel cleaning people come around, or most likely, at a construction site. I am doubly cursed because when I'm in the car and not out in public where I am subjected to other people's preferences, I can change the station from the steering wheel, so I'm constantly looking for the next good song. Even though the radio is set to go only to my favorite stations, somehow corazon still hits me, one way or another, at least once a day. They sure like to sing about their hearts. I guess we gringos do too.

Stay tuned for my next post about how I almost killed our dog. I can laugh about it now.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

well, this isn’t the six billionth post since my last comment, but i’ll venture an attempt, and see what happens (ok, you were drunk, i forgive you)

first, some more prissy offerings for word nerd: edify, apropos, proprietary, paragon, crepuscular, and the related gloaming, cavil, effluvium and surfeit

your School of Rock post is epic- a couple of things struck me as i was reading it. first, it’s kind of funny that you can’t remember whether the Zep song was Dazed and Confused or the Immigrant Song- there are almost no 2 other songs in their whole catalogue more dissimilar! hopefully Katy will set you straight one of these days. also, it’s your list, so you’re free to include springsteen if you want, but i have to say i’ve always found him a hypocritical hack (when was the last time he lived in the shadow of either a refinery, penitentiary, or mill?). he follows in the long line of arrogant, misguided socialists like pete seeger, woodie guthrie, john lennon etc. who try to co-opt the imagery of Americana and use it to bash America. and since he can’t play guitar worth a crap, he must wear that Telecaster on stage as a prop to cover his microscopic pee pee!

thanks for the Steve Martin lyrics- i love him! when i was a kid i used to listen to the Wild and Crazy Guy LP a lot on my dad’s stereo system in the living room- somehow that setting made it seem more serious, like i’d achieved a certain maturity. it was adult humor that i pretended to understand, in order to feel more grown up... but mostly i just liked the puerile thrill that i got from his punch line “that cat was the best f!ck i ever had”

Jill Mitchell-Thein said...

Thanks for the additional words. Great choices, and not nearly as fluffy and "word-a-day" as some of your previous suggestions.

As for Zeppelin, I need to clarify something. We heard both songs that day at different times. I just can't remember which one she recognized. I KNOW thay are not similar. But I must say that they are still more similar to each other than say Black Dog and Thank You. Again, just the lame opinion of someone who is not a huge Zeppelin fan.

I totally understand what you say about The Boss. You should read what Nick Hornby says about him in his book "Songbook" (That's the title of the US version). He says, "He went from being rock 'n' roll's future to a lumpy, flag-waving, stadium-rocking meathead in the space of a few months..." Here are some words I just caught from re-reading that Hornby selection: jingoistic, ubiquitous, Kerouac.

"Microscopic pee-pee"?? First, why do you think on such things, you homo? Secondly, he's Springsteen, and I last time I saw him in concert (for The River), I noticed that he has really big feet.

Wild and Crazy Guy was my favorite. My head is full of quotes from that one. I'd like to offer one here, but I just woke up and I'm not in the mood.

Sorry I had to edit your expletive. Sh!t, man. I'm trying to have some G.D. standards here. As if no one will know what "f!ck" means. Looks like "fick" right? I opted to use something other than an asterisk, for variety. (Let's add these as well: opt & asterisk).

Anonymous said...

you are right about the Zeppelin songs, i was using that hyperbole for effect. there actually are plenty of songs more dissimilar than those two- off the top of my head i would say: Bron Yr Aur and Carouselambra, or Hats of to (Roy) Harper and Down by the Seaside, or Poor Tom and The Battle of Evermore.
bruce has big feet? you can't seriously be implying that means his schwantz is gargantuan- that’s like saying that the size of a woman’s cans correlates to her intelligence... oh wait, in the case of my idol (expletive deleted), that actually works!

Jill Mitchell-Thein said...

Of course your "idol" is actually a dude, and "she" thus probably has some form of tucked under "schwantz" or Johnson, weiner, John Thomas, schlong, pecker, tallywhacker, meat whistle, skin flute, or whatever other "pet" names you guys have dreamed up for your most important yet highly-overrated body part.

Hmmm....I have already tried going back to my natural hair color in hopes that it would make me smarter. That didn't work. I guess all I need is a good boob job. Why didn't I think of that? Oh yeah, because I'm a flat-chested bleached blonde. Silly me.