I survived the million-mile-road-trip-alone-with-kids weekend. It really wasn't bad. Even when I brought 3 extra kids home from Lake Charles yesterday. We stayed at L'Auberge du Lac. Beautiful place. It has this lazy river for floating and a swim-up bar. The casino was too high-dollar for the Saturday night we were there. Not like the low-rent off-the-strip Vegas spots I like to frequent.
The only drawback on the drive was sharing music time. Suddenly these kids have opinions. I don't like to pacify them with DVDs on road trips, just because I think it takes away from the whole experience. I want them to play the alphabet game or find out-of-state plates or count blue cars or play slug-bug or fight and pull hair and spit like I did with my siblings back in the 70s when we didn't have seat belts keeping us on our separate sides, or even in a seat for that matter. Gooood times, those days. I really thought the kids would be fine with their MP3s and Nintendos and even something I like to call books. But nooooo, they had music requests. That's what I get for training them. I can only tolerate a certain amount of Miley Cyrus and maybe a little bit more of the Jonas Brothers, but Katy's other "music" includes these horribly cheesy versions of popular songs sung by what sound like those goofy-looking Barney kids. The CDs have names like Kid's Rockin' Dance Party. You really haven't lived until you hear Santana or the Goo Goo Dolls or Matchbox Twenty butchered all to hell by the voices of spoiled pre-teen wannabe-celebrities who botched their Barney auditions. There's only so much bubble gum or cotton candy music I can stand before I go into a diabetic coma. The other thing about kids singing adult songs is that they have no idea what the lyrics mean. Like the Goo Goo Dolls' Slide. Or YMCA. Of course, when I was a kid, I thought the Village People were just a bunch of dudes in costumes. I had no idea that was what they actually wore in real life. Or why. And I loved singing Cher's Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves with never a clue as to what it was about. Much less Half Breed. Or remember The Who's Squeeze Box? I always thought it was about an accordion. I did get the kids some CDs with real musicians singing songs for kids. Those are called For the Kids (one, two, & three). They have a lot of Barenaked Ladies, and some of my other favorites: Matt Nathanson, Jason Mraz, Sarah McLachlan, Dar Williams, Rosie Thomas, John Ondrasik, Guster, Chantal Kreviazuk, and Sixpence None the Richer. Some of those songs are at least tolerable. I said some. But they were much more palatable than the other crap these kids demanded like Who Let the Dogs Out, Mambo #5, and Pump Up The Jam, which is still stuck in my head.
On our way there, the kids amused themselves (and me) with the things they said. Katy was explaining to Luke about credit cards. She said, "You buy something now, then pay for it later." Luke's response: "Or you buy something now, then move to Kentucky."
They had this box of nasty strawberry Whoppers (a new taste sensation, I guess). Well, the Whoppers' candy coating had melted, so the kids were licking them. Then they say, "Mom, we're licking these balls. We call 'em 'Licky-Balls!'" I tried not to laugh as I suggested they find a more appropriate-sounding name.
As we approached the resort, Katy only saw a big-box store on the corner. She goes, "That better not be our hotel. It looks like a Costco." I said, "Worse, Katy. It's a Sam's." When she saw the place, she looked at Luke and with her evil laugh said, "OOooohhh Yeahhhh…. You know we're gonna get some roooom service here!!" I made a mental note to unplug the phone when we got to the room. These kids must not get out much because a hotel to them might as well be Disneyland. Especially one like that with all the shopping and food. We could take them on vacation to the Holiday Inn Express downtown and they'd be beside themselves with glee. Poor deprived children.
Mike and two other guys in his squadron did a fly-by for this little July 4th event there. We were out at my friend's pool waiting for them to fly over when we decided to go in for more drinks. Soon as we headed back out, we caught their tails. Katy had been lounging in the house. I said, "You missed the fly-by." Nintendo in hand, she goes, "I've seen 'em before." That was pretty much my sentiment, too. Funny that in our world, seeing some loud, fast F-16s zooming overhead in formation is really no biggie. I bet astronauts' wives don't see the big whoop, either.
The fireworks show over the lake was spectacular. Like nothing I have seen in years. People always ooh and ahh over them (as do I), but I always get all patriotic and emotional. I wonder how many people just see lights in the sky and don't consider what they mean. There you go. That was my softer side.
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Now back to my addiction. Hey, it's an addictionary! (Sorry, that was gay. Not in the homosexual sense, but its second definition which is, of course, lame.)
It just figures that as soon as I try to shake off the wordsmith fixation, Webster's comes out with its list of new words worthy of a dictionary entry. The AP says there are like 100 of them, but I can't find the complete list. Most of the ones I saw are boring anyway. I was surprised that edamame and soju weren't already in there. Love edamame. Not so big on soju. I think soju is something like grappa, which tastes like turpentine to me. Well, tastes like the smell of turpentine. Or maybe formaldehyde. Now there's a good word. Formaldehyde. Can you hear or read that word without picturing a big jar with something dead floating in it? I do like sake though. I mean the Japanese wine there. I had never heard of prosecco, probably because I don't like sparkling wine. When I saw the word, I thought of prosciutto and figured it was some sort of strange Italian raw pork product. Pescatarian is interesting. "Vegetarians" who eat fish. Because fish isn't meat? Because fish can count as fruit or vegetables? Do they include shellfish? What about amphibians? Do they eat frog legs, or is it a walking on land issue? I wouldn't mind being a pescatarian. Chicken and pig and cow meat really do sort of creep me out if I think about it. So I don't. All the grease and gristle, blood and bones and hormones. But I'm an unrepentant Texan carnivore. You just can't beat a good grilled medium rare ribeye. Of course fish have all the mercury and stink and eyeballs and scales. Not to mention they swim in their pee. I'd be a vegetarian if I could tolerate tofu, but who knows what the heck that stuff really is?
My favorite new Webster's word is mondegreen. It describes words mistaken for other words, like in phrases or lyrics. The examples they used are the classic ones; what I have always called Chronic Lyricosis: Like "There's a bathroom on the right" and "'Scuse me, while I kiss this guy." Then there's the word douche in Blinded by the Light which I have previously addressed perhaps ad nauseam here. I assume other frequently misspoken phrases fit the definition. Like: "At your beckon call," or "for all intensive purposes." Maybe I should start a list of mondegreens, or start inventing them.
That's it for now. I need to go get ready to watch the most dramatic (or is it romantic?) rose ceremony ever on the Bachelorette. I'm pulling for Jason. God help me.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Strawberry Whoppers
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3 comments:
i didn’t get back from my little vacation to new hampshire in time to reply to the previous post before your deluge of ephemera burst its levee in the form of a new post, so this will cover both. good word- ephemera- might already be in the addictionary
and you’ll note the proper use of “its” above- i agree it’s annoying when people use “it’s” as a possessive adjective or pronoun, and the irony of it happening in a message about quality is delicious! to avoid this mistake i always think of it as a neutered version of “his”- and you wouldn’t write “hi’s”, would you? i mean unless you went to government-funded public school and are thus ignorant through no fault of your own- you know, in other words, an obama supporter
i think the retarded way americans pronounce coup de grace stems from the essentially correct way to pronounce coup d’etat- i guess if it’s good enough for one coup it must be good enough for the rest of them. the only other example i sometimes run across is someone saying “joie de vie” instead of “joie de viVRE” with that subtle little guttural, barely pronounced “re” at the end that, even i admit, only the french can do correctly. and i think you’ve mentioned before hearing “ren-wah” in place of “Renoir”
Rush has a song called Entre Nous, which sort of marries the french theme, the music theme and the grammatical error theme nicely- one of the lines is “just between us, i think it’s time for us to realize the spaces in between leave room for you and i to grow”- i can’t believe Neil Peart didn’t know better!
i’m not sure i agree with you that punch-bug and i spy were better travel amusements back in our day. i think they were just the lame-ass things our parents were forced to come up with since DVD hadn’t been invented yet. our trip through new hampshire was blissfully serene and free of sibling combat. on the other hand, both kids were so enraptured by the continual rotation of Cars and Ratatouille on the van entertainment system that they were oblivious to the spectacular White Mountain scenery out the window- but hey, that’s what postcards are for.
i’m sort of touched by your getting all sentimental at the fireworks show. but i find it odd that your feeling of patriotism is not driven by a wish to defend our Constitution against all these continuous assaults by rogue courts and renegade liberals in congress, but rather by colored gunpowder. is that because it was invented by the chinese (who are now communist)?
i may only do this once- but for the record, as far as i can tell, the addictionary contains the following entries so far: from Jill, words she likes (240): abyssinian, acumen, adrenalin, Agamemnon(and most other names from Greek and Roman mythology), akimbo, albino, albumin, alchemy, algorithm, amalgam, amnesia, anagram, anathema, anemone, antithesis, apoplectic, apparatus, Argonaut, arugula, asterisk, atavistic, avatar, bailiwick, Balzac, bamboozle, banshee, baroque, bathos, befuddled, bellicose, boondoggle, bouillabaisse, Bovaristic, Bovary, brandish, brouhaha, buoyant, burlesque, Burma, buttocks, cacophony, calamity, cantankerous, caterwaul, catharsis, charisma, charlatan chartreuse, chimera, chlamydia, chrysalis, clairvoyant, clandestine, clavicle, cochlea, cockamamie, cojones, conglomeration, Constantinople, corazon cornucopia, cryptic, curmudgeon, czar, Darjeeling, dharma, didactic, dilettante, dilly-dally, diorama, draconian, ephemeral, erect, ergo, Esperanto, esperanza, ethereal, Euphrates, evanescence, Flaubert, flotsam, flummox, gazebo, gazpacho, geode, gibberish, gonorrhea, grandeur, grandiose, grotesque, grotto, guru, heinous, higgledy-piggledy, hobgoblin, hobo, hootenanny, hornswaggle, hubbub, hubris, hullaballoo, hyoid, impromptu, incubus, jetsam, jettison, jingoistic, jubilee, juggernaut, juxtapose, juxtapose, kabuki, Kafka, karma, Kerouac, kitsch, lackadaisical, Lapsang souchong, libation, loco, lollygag, macaroon, Machiavellian, Madagascar, magenta, malinger, manifesto, manx, marmoset, mausoleum, megalomaniac, melanin, mercurial, Micronesia, miffed, mija, mijo, milieu, Minerva, minx, mojo, moniker, myriad, nada, narcissism, nebulous, niggardly, noxious, obsequious, obsidian, ombudsman, omnibus, onyx, opt, ottoman, pablum, palindrome, pallid, paltry, paltry, pandemonium, panorama, parabola, paradigm, parallelogram, parapet, patella, pathos, patina, peccadillo, periwinkle, Persia, persnickety, Polynesia, pusillanimous, putrid, quagmire, quandary, quixotic, Rabelais, ragamuffin, rakish, rancid, ratatouille, rebus, rhombus, rigmarole, ripsnorter, rococo, rubbish, rubric, sabbatical, Sancho, Saskatchewan, scalawag, scapula, scavenger, scintilla, scofflaw, shenanigans, shibboleth, shindig, Sisyphus, spatula, sphincter, squander, squelch, Sri Lanka, stigma, stigmata, succubus, sumo, swami, sycophant, syphilis, taxidermy, tchotchke, thwart, Tigris, Timbuktu, torso, trapezoid, tryst, tsunami, tureen, typhoon, ubiquitous, urethra, uvula, vanquish, veranda, vestibule, vinegaroon, visceral, vitriolic vitriolic, wallaby, willy-nilly, wombat, zilch.
doesn't like (26): areola, bandied about, beaver, copasetic, elitist, excrement, feces, flaccid, high-falutin', humdinger, kibosh, labia, malarkey, menstruate, nausea, poontang, prick, scrotum, scrumptious, simpatico, skedaddle, slut, spurn, tarnation, whatnot, yearn.
Chris's additions- likes (70): ad hominem, alacrity, amaurosis fugax, apocryphal, apropos, avuncular, bailiwick, brobdingnagian, caudal, cavil, chimera, colloquy, crepuscular, deus ex machina, dubious, dysesthesia, edify, effluvium, ennui, ersatz, eschew, excoriate, exegesis, fortuitous, gloaming, hirsute, hyperbole, iatrogenic sequelae, iliopsoas, in media res, inculcate, insuperable, intramedullary, miasma, misanthrope, mountebank, Moyamoya, nihilist, non sequitur, paragon, parenchymal, parenteral, paroxysm, penurious, perspicacity, proprietary, pruritus, quid pro quo, quo vadis, refractory, res ipsa loquitur, sartorial, schadenfreude, schistosomiasis, sesquipedalian, sine qua non, sophistry, spurious, sturm und drang, superfluous, surfeit, sybaritic, sycophant, troglodyte, ubiquitous, valsalva.
doesn't like: co-conspirator
Ginfam
likes: duty, heinous, indubitably
doesn’t like: brewery, irregardless
tkmasterson
likes: dialouging, kalamazoo
Kathy
likes: crotchety
Kelly
likes: atavism, baroque, beaver, bohemian, gypsy, jaded, lyrical, melancholy, solitude, troubadour, wanderlust, chicasawlumberrrr
i notice that Jill does not like beaver, whereas Kelly does. what can i say, other than "that's hot!"
I do hope you at least used some sort of computer program to alphabetize all that. Do you ever sleep? You may want to cut back on the meth and ramp up on the OCD meds. Worked wonders for me.
Gee, now if any of my (our) readers ever wonders, "Hmmm...What are some of Jill's favorite words that start with M?" they have a handy reference chart. Keep up the meaningful labor there. So many of us are counting on you.
Yes, my sister likes the word "beaver," but not necessarily "beaver" per se. As far as I know. I only like it in the scene from Naked Gun with Priscilla Presley and Leslie Nielsen when she's on the ladder above him and he looks up and says, "Nice beaver." "Thanks. I just had it stuffed," she says. That's some classic humor right there.
I'd comment further, but I have a life to try to create out here in the real world. Man, I wish the real world would just stop hasslin' me.
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