tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45655361174474942782024-03-13T23:17:09.510-07:00The Silver Rush MysteriesRandom (and intermittent) musings on writing, mystery, history, Leadville, and anything else that pops to mind.Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13177732952658080784noreply@blogger.comBlogger416125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-42634830284783065082024-03-06T00:00:00.000-08:002024-03-06T00:00:00.342-08:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Benjo! (and Left Coast Crime)<p> I'm happy to report that I'll be at Left Coast Crime in Seattle next month and part of a lovely panel on one of my favorite topics: <b>Slang</b>! The panel, titled "Slang Me: Dialogue Through History" will be in Grand C on Friday, April 12, 4 p.m. The other panelists are
Sarah Niebuhr Rubin (moderator), Sarah M. Chen, Tessa Floreano, and Jeanne Matthews. </p><p> Looking for a lovely slang word from the past to offer today, I bumped into <i>benjo</i> (which I first misread as "banjo." Nooo connection.) According to <a href="https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/53529/56-delightful-victorian-slang-terms-you-should-be-using" target="_blank">Mental Floss</a>, <i>benjo</i> is 19th-century sailor slang for “A riotous holiday, a noisy day in the streets.” Woot and huzzah! While I was writing THE SECRET IN THE WALL, I spent a fair bit of time swimming through nautical slang (since a number of secondary characters were "men of the sea."), so I was doubly pleased with this definition. </p><p>I did have trouble finding the word with this meaning elsewhere (it appears as a first and last name, and has different definitions in different languages and timeframes)... but did find it referenced in <a href="https://greensdictofslang.com/entry/v2dkuia" target="_blank">Green's Dictionary of Slang</a> under the entry for <a href="https://greensdictofslang.com/entry/v2dkuia" target="_blank">bender</a>:</p><p></p><blockquote>bender n.2
[? the image of a drunkard (or drug user) as unsteady on their feet; or ? f. an image of bending a bow or elbow. <b>Note naut. jargon <i>benjo</i>, a spree,</b> f. Ital./Lingua Fr. buengiorno, a good day]</blockquote><p> If it's good enough for Green's, it's good enough for me and for Slang-o-rama!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNQx2yTqlhUa1Fg7QH9xXAZFrR9lU6Wm8a2fo803vqBDYyUhv_H0l_Lo3epN74sBHpImZjxX8mxA78usw6ajHM8YUFm6p9wrQr9in2Zu3nTOAcN8eruQcMqGEyFKnwBjwtDQm99LAAFifu3tXcAr4xY5zYFi4yzaurmy9BAyWQihvaWoPwGwpPz9i7Ao/s1920/Slang-o-rama%20benjo%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1459" data-original-width="1920" height="486" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNQx2yTqlhUa1Fg7QH9xXAZFrR9lU6Wm8a2fo803vqBDYyUhv_H0l_Lo3epN74sBHpImZjxX8mxA78usw6ajHM8YUFm6p9wrQr9in2Zu3nTOAcN8eruQcMqGEyFKnwBjwtDQm99LAAFifu3tXcAr4xY5zYFi4yzaurmy9BAyWQihvaWoPwGwpPz9i7Ao/w640-h486/Slang-o-rama%20benjo%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sailors at a drunken orgy.<br>Mezzotint by W. Ward, 1807, after J.C. Ibbetson, 1802. (A scene in an unspecified tavern at Portsmouth after one or more ships have been paid off.)<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="https://wellcomecollection.org/works/bvdueqqr" target="_blank">Wellcome Collection gallery (2018-04-02)</a>, <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/" target="_blank">CC BY 4.0</a>, <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36216876" target="_blank">Link</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-45581526917407008682024-02-28T00:00:00.000-08:002024-02-28T00:00:00.129-08:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: The cat's meow<p> Way back in 2021, I Slang-o-rama'd (how's that for a verb??) about <a href="https://silverrushmysteries.blogspot.com/2021/11/wednesdays-random-slang-o-rama-cats.html" target="_blank"><i>the cat's pajamas</i></a>. I believe a post on <i>the cat's meow</i> is a tad overdue. Let's rectify that now.</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br /></p><p>According to <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/cat%27s%20meow" target="_blank">Merriam-Webster</a>, <i>the cat's meow</i> is "a highly admired person or thing," with the first known use being in 1921. Boy, I'd sure like to know what that first appearance was... That being said, I was so pleased to then find this phrase in the online <a href="https://greensdictofslang.com/entry/gosztda" target="_blank">Green's Dictionary of Slang</a>, which is a marvelous reference for this kind of thing. Sure enough, they note that, according to Leonard Zwilling's "A TAD Lexicon. Etymology and Linguistic Principles: V.3," (1993) San Francisco cartoonist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tad_Dorgan" target="_blank">Tad (T.A.) Dorgan</a> wrote "Some party. Some home made hooch. — Gee — I feel like the cat’s meow." I'd sure love to see THAT cartoon!</p><p>Green's Dictionary also offers a gaggle of slangy synonyms—cat’s tonsillitis, duck’s quack, elephant’s tonsils, pig’s scream, sparrow’s chirp—and examples. If you're curious, check out the entry <a href="https://greensdictofslang.com/entry/gosztda">here.</a> </p><p>In the meantime, here is a photo of... yes... a <i>cat's meow.</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaNlo0rVE0lLWiJ-NZ7pO1MqRbOPVv054TEu87ORuz-gVUNCYda3EAy_u7X3NRksorWjAfSq8vZhnPjARGxThA1BcL_YiP3s8vzrn_u6399ekbJ29hEYP1DoyLwg2aZzEkPkIY08lQydbKVOn0jwzh5cRrPYErz_Y6dKIyNcISat-XUXvAC88S44RS3k/s610/Slang-o-rama%20Ann%20Parker%20cats%20meow%20.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="610" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaNlo0rVE0lLWiJ-NZ7pO1MqRbOPVv054TEu87ORuz-gVUNCYda3EAy_u7X3NRksorWjAfSq8vZhnPjARGxThA1BcL_YiP3s8vzrn_u6399ekbJ29hEYP1DoyLwg2aZzEkPkIY08lQydbKVOn0jwzh5cRrPYErz_Y6dKIyNcISat-XUXvAC88S44RS3k/w400-h311/Slang-o-rama%20Ann%20Parker%20cats%20meow%20.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><i><br /></i><p></p><p> </p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-70437314615170054922024-02-21T00:00:00.000-08:002024-02-21T00:00:00.252-08:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Back "into the swing of things"<p>Hello all! Did you miss Slang-o-Rama?? My apologies for the long (unannounced) hiatus. Chalk it up to life.</p><p>But I and Slang-o-Rama are baaaack and <i>getting into the swing of things</i>.</p><p>Turns out this phrase, which I guessed might date to the 1920s or so, goes back to the 19th century. According to Christine Ammer's <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_American_Heritage_Dictionary_of_Idio/l_LxuR1jMVgC?hl=en" target="_blank">The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms</a>, <i>get into the swing of things</i>, which means "become active, make progress" dates to the late 1800s.</p><p>The online <a href="https://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/getting+into+the+swing+of+things" target="_blank">Free Dictionary </a>offers a bit more from Ammer's <a href="https://www.skyhorsepublishing.com/9781626360112/the-dictionary-of-cliches/" target="_blank">Dictionary of Cliches</a> (I need that book for my reference shelf!) "This expression appears to be a nineteenth-century change on being in full swing (already very active in something), dating from the sixteenth century. An early use cited by the OED is by Thomas Huxley in 1864: 'I shall soon get into swing.'"
</p><p>So, there you go! Let's get back on track and get to swinging and slinging some weekly slang, shall we?</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fGeOvQcnQ2EAXtW35aQnRvgL5ixK4vPeOkxptb4jjYQslNYtQ2muMwWQADlzv8J9wcnCwvxmd5dS9FLN17Sb9y1ga-XciCoW1NbblaQmvpVv7goBhmWt2-6_3-L8BAedtOcF_5wW86g13vDI6mL-waskkwrf1VcK7NMg3bMnTYZ9YqmJvArXhsRShUY/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20Ann%20Parker%20%20into%20the%20swing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1127" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fGeOvQcnQ2EAXtW35aQnRvgL5ixK4vPeOkxptb4jjYQslNYtQ2muMwWQADlzv8J9wcnCwvxmd5dS9FLN17Sb9y1ga-XciCoW1NbblaQmvpVv7goBhmWt2-6_3-L8BAedtOcF_5wW86g13vDI6mL-waskkwrf1VcK7NMg3bMnTYZ9YqmJvArXhsRShUY/s320/Slang-o-rama%20Ann%20Parker%20%20into%20the%20swing.jpg" width="282" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-align: left;">Image by </span><a href="https://pixabay.com/users/4040952-4040952/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=6193362" style="text-align: left;">4040952</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=6193362" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-14707870321029799442023-08-23T00:00:00.001-07:002023-08-23T21:04:48.548-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Shoot for the moon<p> The landing of <a href="https://apnews.com/article/india-spacecraft-chandrayaan-moon-landing-b31109bb08197f33b829e7a6e4edfc6d" target="_blank">India's Chandrayaan-3 near the south pole of the moon</a> brought to my mind the phrase <i>shoot for the moon </i>(definition: "to try to do or get something that is very difficult to do or get" — <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/reach%2Fshoot%20for%20the%20moon" target="_blank">Merriam-Webster</a>).</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />But when was first use? Hmmm. That was quite a hunt. Google Ngram shows a tiny bump in the 1910s, and then nothing until 1930s, when its use rises from there with a dip around 1980.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpCCbGsdqD8qAuqIKLtTwfMRkvf5b7wJ9qZlCdACk6Kxg66MQKfNUz2W1GMQxjrc3EgJhqDkjdY0QC0sNeSs07s5NUeuUdZkNMcWrf1iMCKlZGfLeYei73kYmaoSMR2Ekx543x9d2iGpSqwvOl6KlQDG7x9N0_jLIONbo1U20sLWwkKpQ94sG4XMfb34/s4144/Slang-o-rama%20shoot%20for%20the%20moon%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1442" data-original-width="4144" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpCCbGsdqD8qAuqIKLtTwfMRkvf5b7wJ9qZlCdACk6Kxg66MQKfNUz2W1GMQxjrc3EgJhqDkjdY0QC0sNeSs07s5NUeuUdZkNMcWrf1iMCKlZGfLeYei73kYmaoSMR2Ekx543x9d2iGpSqwvOl6KlQDG7x9N0_jLIONbo1U20sLWwkKpQ94sG4XMfb34/w640-h222/Slang-o-rama%20shoot%20for%20the%20moon%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://books.google.com/ngrams/graph?content=shoot+for+the+moon&year_start=1900&year_end=2019&corpus=en-2019&smoothing=3&case_insensitive=true" target="_blank">Google Ngram</a> results for the phrase <i>shoot for the moon</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>After some search, I found <i>shoot for the moon</i> (appearing in quotes, which indicates that it was perhaps a fairly new idiom at that point) in <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Law_Notes/1tIwAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22shoot+for+the+moon%22&pg=RA1-PA58&printsec=frontcover" target="_blank">Law Notes</a> from February 1915. Who'd've thought that lawyers would be among the first to land on <i>shoot for the moon</i>?? </p><p>(Interesting aside: According to the <a href="https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=shoot+for+the+moon" target="_blank">Online Etymology Dictionary</a>, <i>shoot the moon</i>—the above phrase without the "for"—means something quite different: "leave without paying rent," which is British slang from about 1823.)</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5YU_NtTF87AIOtOMnxtKtmXiOzNTffDVBitRD3oym3aBPlGL6xAv_xVJXBnnP7BsTOI5Xw6VWZxA_MTuXea7a6yPYnedK1VWYcUJoW5_RUeVHUmJd81MQYIixUcnyZzzddX1VJPDeDL-z18nXUnMhjoy_aPe9lKBDMdOMxrpLmXEfzNkwNpi1rJJ1eQ/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20shoot%20for%20the%20moon%20Ann%20Parker%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="815" data-original-width="1280" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5YU_NtTF87AIOtOMnxtKtmXiOzNTffDVBitRD3oym3aBPlGL6xAv_xVJXBnnP7BsTOI5Xw6VWZxA_MTuXea7a6yPYnedK1VWYcUJoW5_RUeVHUmJd81MQYIixUcnyZzzddX1VJPDeDL-z18nXUnMhjoy_aPe9lKBDMdOMxrpLmXEfzNkwNpi1rJJ1eQ/w640-h408/Slang-o-rama%20shoot%20for%20the%20moon%20Ann%20Parker%202.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-align: left;">Image by </span><a href="https://pixabay.com/users/tumisu-148124/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=5254351" style="text-align: left;">Tumisu</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=5254351" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-45454247339612638642023-08-16T00:00:00.002-07:002023-08-16T13:00:39.876-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Highfalutin<p><i>Highfalutin</i> is such a fun word to say (and spell!). I associate it with old TV Western series such as <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunsmoke" target="_blank">Gunsmoke</a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wagon_Train" target="_blank">Wagon Train</a>. So, is it something Hollywood invented, or does it date back to "Wild West" days, or....?</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />According to the <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1914207.Random_House_Historical_Dictionary_of_American_Slang_Volume_II" target="_blank">Random House Historical Dictionary of American Slang, VOL II</a>, by J.E. Lighter, <i>highfalutin</i> is both a noun and an adjective—meaning either (noun) a pompous air or affectation; bombast OR (adjective) pompous or bombastic; high-flown; arrogantly pretentious. The noun dates from 1848, with the adjectival form appearing almost ten years earlier in 1839.</p><p><a href="https://www.csmonitor.com/The-Culture/In-a-Word/2019/0926/Poking-holes-in-pretentiousness-with-highfalutin" target="_blank">The Christian Science Monitor </a>opines on the word's origin (which the Random House dictionary says is "unknown") as follows: </p><p></p><blockquote>...Its etymology is disputed. One theory holds that it comes from the Yiddish <i>hifelufelem</i>: “extravagant language; nonsense.” Another contends that it derives from <i>high-flown</i>. British broadcaster Melvyn Bragg argues creatively, but probably wrongly, that it embodies the class divisions found on 19th-century American steamboats: “On board the bigger boats the richer travellers were called ‘<i>highfalutin’</i> because of the high fluted smokestacks that carried the soot and cinders well away from the passengers.” </blockquote><p></p><p>So, who knows how <i>highfalutin</i> came to be?</p><p>But at least I can rest easy knowing my 1870s–80s Silver Rush characters (as well as Gunsmoke's character <a href="https://gunsmoke.fandom.com/wiki/Festus_Haggen" target="_blank">Festus</a>) are perfectly legit in using the word as a noun or adjective.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjml6mLOO0MSOO0Uncr9DubpAqC-Yr4LEB8hMsVs1ZZmyaz_WuCxYaa8maBKn4f65RppFVAEaxEblWHuPsCpPew4iFZC6toYqG9NtTKr6EFFjCjx9zT8Qp9nFrja6gMZmt2R67BYCJMVCHzHOMjLHad-JtmljVo5xqFE7sHgBWqDaidCcALhOZgb-7XgWE/s752/Slang-o-rama%20highfalutin%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="584" data-original-width="752" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjml6mLOO0MSOO0Uncr9DubpAqC-Yr4LEB8hMsVs1ZZmyaz_WuCxYaa8maBKn4f65RppFVAEaxEblWHuPsCpPew4iFZC6toYqG9NtTKr6EFFjCjx9zT8Qp9nFrja6gMZmt2R67BYCJMVCHzHOMjLHad-JtmljVo5xqFE7sHgBWqDaidCcALhOZgb-7XgWE/s320/Slang-o-rama%20highfalutin%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Festus' expression says it clearly:<br />"Now don't you be gettin' all <i><b>highfalutin</b></i> on me, Doc."<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ken_Curtis_Milburn_Stone_Gunsmoke_1974.JPG" target="_blank"><i>Wikimedia Commons</i></a></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-56634436138358328052023-08-09T00:00:00.007-07:002023-08-09T00:00:00.147-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Zwodder<p> This will be a short post, as I have just returned from travel and am still in a bit of a <i>zwodder</i>.</p><p>"A bit of a what?" you ask...</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br /><i>Zwodder</i>, according to <a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/zwodder" target="_blank">Wiktionary</a>, means a dull, drowsy state, or stupor. As to its origin, the Wiki entry has this to say:</p><p></p><blockquote>From Middle English <i>swodderen</i>, from Old English <i>swodrian</i> (“to get drowsy, fall asleep”), of uncertain origin. Perhaps a variant of Old English <i>swaþrian</i> (“to withdraw, retreat, subside”). Compare also Middle Dutch <i>swadderen</i> (“to be weary from drinking, stagger”).</blockquote><p></p><p>Normally I would investigate this fascinating word further, but this week, I'll leave it at that.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUl-XB1AcFvI5mRkdW3e_yp8izW1497Y2S5GmW6ZQw8ED4uv0WkG4OaQohYAIzuxxaS3b646OSjOITZQzfqlsLzGN7bcVUyCq5cSGz1-y_vkHub6Ttc3r2HAaGe5e3mHQxcHL2DbwVx4ubxU7jUk6SQh7K8Qe9PvzZXojS8a4UjUhoisgBHTu29eSVkcI/s1042/Slang-o-rama%20zwodder%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1042" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUl-XB1AcFvI5mRkdW3e_yp8izW1497Y2S5GmW6ZQw8ED4uv0WkG4OaQohYAIzuxxaS3b646OSjOITZQzfqlsLzGN7bcVUyCq5cSGz1-y_vkHub6Ttc3r2HAaGe5e3mHQxcHL2DbwVx4ubxU7jUk6SQh7K8Qe9PvzZXojS8a4UjUhoisgBHTu29eSVkcI/w400-h308/Slang-o-rama%20zwodder%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really feeling in a <b><i>zwodder</i></b> today<i>.</i><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>From <a href="https://www.wikiart.org/en/adolph-menzel/emilie-menzel-asleep-1848" target="_blank">WikiArt</a>: Emilie Menzel Asleep by Adolph Menzel, 1848</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-72652211442693944782023-07-26T00:00:00.001-07:002023-07-26T00:00:00.172-07:00NEWS FLASH plus Wednesday's (regularly scheduled) Random Slang-o-rama: Dark Horse<p><b><i><span style="color: red;">NEWS FLASH!!</span></i></b> —> I have a double dose of wonderful news to share from Silver Rush country... <a href="https://annparker.net/books/#8" target="_blank">The Secret in the Wall</a> is a finalist/nominee for two more awards: The Macavity Sue Feder Memorial Award for Best Historical Mystery (that's one! See all nominees for all Macavity categories <a href="https://mysteryreadersinc.blogspot.com/2023/07/2023-macavity-awards-mystery-readers.html" target="_blank">here</a>) and the Killer Nashville Silver Falchion Award for Best Mystery (that's two! See all finalists for all Silver Falchion categories <a href="https://www.killernashville.com/2023-silver-falchion-winners" target="_blank">here</a>).</p><p>I'll admit, looking over the lists of nominees, I felt a bit of a <i>dark horse</i> to named and honored among them.</p><p>Which brings us to the Slang-o-rama phrase of the week... </p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />></p><p><a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/dark%20horse" target="_blank">Merriam-Webster</a> provides this definition of <i>dark horse</i>: "a usually little known contender (such as a racehorse) that makes an unexpectedly good showing." <br /><a href="https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/dark-horse.html" target="_blank">The Phrase Finder</a>—always a good source for dates of first use and origins—notes that <i>dark horse</i> originated in horseracing, and was used to describe a horse that was pretty much unknown and thus difficult to place odds on. The phrase used in the figurative sense seems to have first appeared in the 1860s in the academic world. The Phrase Finder offers this example from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Sketches-Cambridge-Leslie-Stephen/dp/046922763X/" target="_blank">Sketches of Cambridge</a>, published in 1865: "Every now and then a <i>dark horse</i> is heard of, who is supposed to have done wonders at some obscure small college." </p><p>The phrase has quite the air of mystery, yes?</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OoXUvq5b6-1pc9g24gvNTgVp3JhLhbxCbkE8M0RI0qf6RJEOqSpEsq8nzv5igQM7M-prc7EGdiHM-cLAPfwjn6-1zSXIBoJOkO-5nrhFrxcKGz3bs9C45nV30-udxC_hHSLwUwYM94xGILh25Bd4dN5wX4RBLefxB6LJXnliyM0UoY0kP7TbQ2URgxs/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20dark%20horse%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="968" data-original-width="1280" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OoXUvq5b6-1pc9g24gvNTgVp3JhLhbxCbkE8M0RI0qf6RJEOqSpEsq8nzv5igQM7M-prc7EGdiHM-cLAPfwjn6-1zSXIBoJOkO-5nrhFrxcKGz3bs9C45nV30-udxC_hHSLwUwYM94xGILh25Bd4dN5wX4RBLefxB6LJXnliyM0UoY0kP7TbQ2URgxs/w400-h303/Slang-o-rama%20dark%20horse%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-align: left;">Image by </span><a href="https://pixabay.com/users/pole-equide-1415578/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=943001" style="text-align: left;">Bénédicte ARROU-VIGNOD</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=943001" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-54190696280023546682023-07-19T00:00:00.001-07:002023-07-19T00:00:00.144-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: The penny dropped<p>No sooner did I comment to a friend that <i>the penny dropped</i> than I knew what this week's Slang-o-rama was going to be about...</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />An informal British idiom, <i><b>the penny drops</b></i> is used to say that someone finally understands something after not understanding it for a time. (Thank you, <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/the%20penny%20drops" target="_blank">Merriam-Webster,</a> for that definition!) As for the what and when of its origin, <a href="https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/280900.html" target="_blank">The Phrase Finder</a> points to the Oxford Dictionary for an explanation:</p><blockquote>...The Oxford English Dictionary states that this phrase originated by way of allusion to the mechanism of penny-in-the-slot machines. The OED's earliest citation of a use of the phrase with the 'now I understand' meaning, is from <i>The Daily Mirror</i> August 1939:<br /><div style="text-align: center;">And then <i><b>the penny dropped</b></i>, and I saw his meaning!</div>
The image of someone waiting for a penny-in-the-slot mechanism (which often jammed) to operate does sound plausible and, if that isn't the origin, it is difficult to imagine what is...</blockquote><p></p><p>Ah, but <a href="https://wordhistories.net/2017/01/25/the-penny-dropped/" target="_blank">Word Histories</a> finds an earlier date for first figurative use of this phrase—April 10, 1931—in "On getting educated," published in <i>The Ripley and Heanor News and Ilkeston Division Free Press</i> of Ripley in Derbyshire. The post also offers several other instances cropping up in 1932, including the following from the <i>Skegness Standard</i> of Skegness in Lincolnshire, on April 20, 1932:</p><p></p><blockquote>THINGS WE WANT TO KNOW.<br />The identity of the gentleman who was allowed to go for a drink after assisting the missus on Sunday?<br />
And how long it took him to fathom the problem as to why the hostelry was closed at 1.15 p.m.<br />
And if <i><b>the penny dropped</b></i> on suggestion of his spouse that he had forgotten to advance his watch an hour?<br />
And if he has made a mental resolve to guard against a similar happening in future years?</blockquote><p></p><p>Check out the <a href="https://wordhistories.net/2017/01/25/the-penny-dropped/" target="_blank">Word Histories post</a> and scroll down to see other early-use figurative quotes.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkaOpw7n-r6oihOP4wcExWcOBzaN7JB50fIZ-jRfkHYcruLwtXbRLgSeNrM-EG-y3lFiGk2rgk7C1Y1lOGzDxIoQIgmrk7Yn8jYw89ZFHfWF_cN71NgMOdtk0ns1iNOIGNe2sVq9ET0f8emjQOgUOpFu3l-HgYUKxCcPfvVPtN1n7OE30BA3h3xpjmSg/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20penny%20dropped%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkaOpw7n-r6oihOP4wcExWcOBzaN7JB50fIZ-jRfkHYcruLwtXbRLgSeNrM-EG-y3lFiGk2rgk7C1Y1lOGzDxIoQIgmrk7Yn8jYw89ZFHfWF_cN71NgMOdtk0ns1iNOIGNe2sVq9ET0f8emjQOgUOpFu3l-HgYUKxCcPfvVPtN1n7OE30BA3h3xpjmSg/s320/Slang-o-rama%20penny%20dropped%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It took me a few minutes, but then <i><b>the</b></i> (figurative) <i><b>penny dropped</b></i>.<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/clker-free-vector-images-3736/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=40701">Clker-Free-Vector-Images</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=40701">Pixabay</a>
</i></span> </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-44687835760024030762023-07-12T00:00:00.004-07:002023-07-12T00:00:00.138-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Paul Pry<p><i>Paul Pry</i> is another fun phrase I found in Win Blevins' <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dictionary-American-West-Winfred-Blevins/dp/0816020310" target="_blank">Dictionary of the American West</a>. Want to take a guess as to its definition?</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />According to Blevins' dictionary, <i>Paul Pry</i> is "a cowboy's name for a meddler." Wondering how *that* came to be, I turned to the internet. <a href="https://www.dictionary.com/browse/paul-pry" target="_blank">Dictionary.com</a> pegs <i>Paul Pry</i> ("a nosy person") as originating from the name of the title character of the play <i>Paul Pry</i> (1853) by English dramatist John Poole. A quick look at <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Pry_(play)" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a> revealed the play "premiered in London on 13 September 1825 at the Haymarket Theatre and ran 114 performances." London, eh? And early-ish 19th century at that.</p><p>I think I could safely have a character mutter "What a <i>Paul Pry"</i> in my Silver Rush series... and I certainly prefer it to the phrase <a href="https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/nosy-parker.html" target="_blank">nosy parker</a>. 😉</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNV25V6x70yUCOyAE0sVC3NTEyhs1QhcQfbEq8wbacH1gVicwgO_LcX-brLwNPuPrPo08WpfYIVUQUlXri7bKCwUP3VdjU_LJOHMDq0tKwZzpnEdcQZUJTJDY5aeIfp26sFOvJ7CfGGoACrnPjgCuoIHOi1OfZdgGH_XGW9PZ5Z43HzeT8JYcWCG2XHuo/s1536/Slang-o-rama%20Paul%20Pry%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1383" data-original-width="1536" height="576" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNV25V6x70yUCOyAE0sVC3NTEyhs1QhcQfbEq8wbacH1gVicwgO_LcX-brLwNPuPrPo08WpfYIVUQUlXri7bKCwUP3VdjU_LJOHMDq0tKwZzpnEdcQZUJTJDY5aeIfp26sFOvJ7CfGGoACrnPjgCuoIHOi1OfZdgGH_XGW9PZ5Z43HzeT8JYcWCG2XHuo/w640-h576/Slang-o-rama%20Paul%20Pry%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three porcelain figurines and a hand-colored lithograph depicting English actor John Liston as the title character in John Poole's 1825 farce, <i>Paul Pry</i>.<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Originals in the Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington, DC (Julie Ainsworth, photographer) - <a href="http://luna.folger.edu/luna/servlet/s/8390c7">http://luna.folger.edu/luna/servlet/s/8390c7</a> (stable URL for high-resolution zoomable version), CC BY-SA 4.0, <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34638154">https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34638154</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-29097154824257439192023-07-05T00:00:00.001-07:002023-07-05T00:00:00.148-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Squirrel can, wreck pan, and biscuit-shooter<p><b><i>Shortly after referring to the </i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dictionary-American-West-Expressions-Adventures/dp/0692214194" style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank">Dictionary of the American West</a><i> last week, I was shocked and saddened to read that the dictionary's author, </i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winfred_Blevins" style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank">Win Blevins</a><i>, had passed. An award-winning writer known for his "mastery of western lore," Win will be missed. May his memory and his works live on. </i></b></p><p>Once the Fourth of July feasting is done, it's time for the merrymakers to pick up their plates and stagger from the table to the <i>squirrel can </i>and from thence to the <i>wreck pan</i>.</p><p><i>Squirrel can</i> and <i>wreck pan</i> are two cowboy slang terms that might come in handy for those in charge of the modern-day kitchen.</p><p>According to Win Blevins' <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dictionary-American-West-Expressions-Adventures/dp/0692214194" target="_blank">Dictionary of the American West</a>, a <i>squirrel can</i> is "a big can used by the camp cook for scraps." The same dictionary defines the <i>wreck pan</i> as "the tub for dirty dishes at the chuck wagon. Also called the wreck tub."</p><p>So, give your resident <i>biscuit-shooter</i> (aka "cook") a break, and do your bit to clean up after chowing down.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4HGwlCCVsDqal5AP-XLYthFRPOb22jVsXyxOAhkdwN3SB7nzweLEZJ5FYDzl2zlAZh9upvtxpIKW4PNNt4jxUoDQRfhuUf5u8e38K5NVsqjRpAMX9FBNm7IFgQfaWKSBZtRkGpay1TowxyjTlnu5amyC28_kIf3O47HWZ-fTgLtRm1tZAcXO-YtZjY3E/s1405/Slang-o-rama%20squirrel%20can%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1405" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4HGwlCCVsDqal5AP-XLYthFRPOb22jVsXyxOAhkdwN3SB7nzweLEZJ5FYDzl2zlAZh9upvtxpIKW4PNNt4jxUoDQRfhuUf5u8e38K5NVsqjRpAMX9FBNm7IFgQfaWKSBZtRkGpay1TowxyjTlnu5amyC28_kIf3O47HWZ-fTgLtRm1tZAcXO-YtZjY3E/w400-h219/Slang-o-rama%20squirrel%20can%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please clean up after yourselves when you're done eating, boys.<br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="https://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2012646306/" target="_blank">Cowboys eating out on the range, chuck wagon in background</a> <br />Date 1880 (Library of Congress)</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-47247453024275660872023-06-28T00:00:00.030-07:002023-07-04T15:42:40.321-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Hurricane deck<p> I was ignorant as to what <i>hurricane deck</i> meant when I first heard it, and if not for the venue in which the term came up, I would've guessed it was a nautical term. But since <i>hurricane deck</i> was mentioned at the recent Western Writers of America (WWA) conference in South Dakota, I deduced it had more to do with cowboys riding the wide-open ranges than shipboard life....</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />></p><p>According to my hardcopy of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dictionary-American-West-Expressions-Adventures/dp/0692214194/" target="_blank">Dictionary of the American West by Win Blevins</a>, <i>hurricane deck</i> is "the saddle of a bucking horse." (Blevins then adds that this is a "nicely descriptive term," leading me to guess he has some experience with this particular phrase!) <a href="https://greensdictofslang.com/entry/joguhwy" target="_blank">Green's Dictionary of Slang</a> lists an early appearance of <i>hurricane deck,</i> meaning <i>"</i>the back of a horse or mule," in 1864's <a href="https://quod.lib.umich.edu/m/moa/ADG8854.0001.001/195?rgn=full+text;view=image;q1=hurricane+deck" target="_blank">Down in Tennessee by Edmund Kirke</a>.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyvLsutfsVHmQfM_uQZII40Xn0MybtQ2fkarTjfM8O3NLS8CFZ0zQe7-DYNqO25VA0NcIbspS2AvNcvRydMhf_4QmxsfdXWE21xHQ7uGpE56P_fvrUAaYrQsB7a97nD_zO5-S_a3hMtY0pL5Ld-145NFpks7aCpO9IL0Y5R57NsWxn6Lyyu9BiaHlM2w/s963/Slang-o-rama%20hurricane%20deck%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="543" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAyvLsutfsVHmQfM_uQZII40Xn0MybtQ2fkarTjfM8O3NLS8CFZ0zQe7-DYNqO25VA0NcIbspS2AvNcvRydMhf_4QmxsfdXWE21xHQ7uGpE56P_fvrUAaYrQsB7a97nD_zO5-S_a3hMtY0pL5Ld-145NFpks7aCpO9IL0Y5R57NsWxn6Lyyu9BiaHlM2w/s320/Slang-o-rama%20hurricane%20deck%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Yee-haw, and hang on tight!</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/gay2016-4022393/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1909926">gay2016</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1909926">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>... Now I've not ridden a bucking horse (thank goodness... I'm sure I'd be flat on the ground in no time), but I definitely felt like I was "riding high" when I received the WWA Spur Award for best traditional novel for the eighth book in my Silver Rush series, <a href="https://annparker.net/books/#8" target="_blank">The Secret in the Wall</a>. I am honored to have been chosen for this award. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><b><i>Thank you, WWA!</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #783f04;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">... You can view a list of all the winners and finalists <a href="https://westernwriters.org/winners/">here</a> ...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8bhRm8C7ndCfM9xpKSMM_cY-m_uLzGDaPo0vsJqZ0jY_n_imaDsSj486W0F5UZvQuKpsu_t5RlZGLuxSj51b1GAO8ibCJfdiM-ztfMitRdBTb-Lbk3j4IR-NlRsLyapsHUgqnEAX3ZtfhIEnUMK_gz5wb-S5Np2Qnq4DV7-d1An46-Jj6fcxCf8q8Z5M/s3131/AnnParkerSpur.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3131" data-original-width="2769" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8bhRm8C7ndCfM9xpKSMM_cY-m_uLzGDaPo0vsJqZ0jY_n_imaDsSj486W0F5UZvQuKpsu_t5RlZGLuxSj51b1GAO8ibCJfdiM-ztfMitRdBTb-Lbk3j4IR-NlRsLyapsHUgqnEAX3ZtfhIEnUMK_gz5wb-S5Np2Qnq4DV7-d1An46-Jj6fcxCf8q8Z5M/w177-h200/AnnParkerSpur.jpeg" width="177" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A near-speechless Ann Parker receiving the Spur Award from Spur committee chair <a href="https://rgyoho.com/" target="_blank">Bob Yoho</a>.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo by <a href="https://johnnydboggs.com/" target="_blank">Johnny Boggs</a></i></span> </td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </div>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-4972356347357066312023-06-21T00:00:00.001-07:002023-06-21T00:00:00.174-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Uhtceare<p><i>Uhtceare</i> often hits me just before dawn, particularly on the mornings I have to catch a flight, and I'm sure I'm not the only one...</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />An Old English noun from the 10th century (according to <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Little-Book-Lost-Words-Snollygosters/dp/0399582673" target="_blank">The Little Book of Lost Words</a> by Joe Gillard), <i>uhtceare</i> is defined as "lying awake in bed feeling anxious." Hoo-boy. I can relate. And I find it interesting that folks waaaay back in the 10th century suffered from the same condition as I do (although clearly their anxiety had nothing to do with possible traffic jams interfering with flight plans).</p><p>According to the <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/articles/2xL1gH6FcyCtYH2NM6zYhTK/lost-for-words-14-expressions-that-have-vanished#:~:text=Uhtceare,the%20state%20of%20being%20sleepless" target="_blank">BBC</a> (which should know), when literally translated from the Old English, <i>uhtceare</i> means dawn-care. BBC adds that <i>uhtceare</i> is "similar to insomnia (though more time-specific) in that it is a name (or noun) given to the state of being sleepless."</p><p>What a very useful word! And if you're wondering how to pronounce it, simply <a href="https://www.howtopronounce.com/uhtceare" target="_blank">click here</a> to find out...</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_UH46F72uRdANfu9Rl4_UuOeFhv_6svqrEhbjTpvhdb_d15FrYJ6BFwnesOjiuUrEIPAq__LkoWKmENhJaF5zMvZMRJFg1nhzqpfrJcLJToi87-enXTlclZQ5toxumd2VRVOEKdcFwHyLY1uQpn9BruDL3fT0qbvc1EBMs7TN_1t2BJPJNt9m5Y3y/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20uhtceare%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="897" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_UH46F72uRdANfu9Rl4_UuOeFhv_6svqrEhbjTpvhdb_d15FrYJ6BFwnesOjiuUrEIPAq__LkoWKmENhJaF5zMvZMRJFg1nhzqpfrJcLJToi87-enXTlclZQ5toxumd2VRVOEKdcFwHyLY1uQpn9BruDL3fT0qbvc1EBMs7TN_1t2BJPJNt9m5Y3y/w280-h400/Slang-o-rama%20uhtceare%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleep eludes me as daylight approaches<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/fanette-310960/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1547964" style="text-align: left;">Stephanie Ghesquier</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1547964" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-80133242657960092032023-06-07T00:00:00.002-07:002023-06-07T00:00:00.141-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Galluptious<p>I have <i>galluptious</i> news to share with you! The news being...</p><p>.... Well, let's define <i>galluptious</i> first.</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />According to <a href="https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/galluptious" target="_blank">Merriam-Webster Online</a>, <i>galluptious</i> (or less commonly spelled <i>galoptious</i> or <i>galuptious</i>) means "wonderful, delightful, delicious." Take your pick. I think I'll go with "wonderful" this time around. I don't see a whole lot more about this word, so will proceed directly to the news:</p><p><a href="https://annparker.net/books/#8" target="_blank">The Secret in the Wall</a> is a finalist for the Will Rogers Medallion Award in the Western Mystery category, which is <i>galluptiously</i> delightful indeed! I am honored beyond words...</p><p>More will be revealed at the Award Ceremony on October 21. You can view all the finalists in all the categories <a href="https://www.willrogersmedallionaward.net/2023-wrma-finalists" target="_blank">right here</a>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkFLNiq303tYBDiBwXyMlGngXIQA0eGrhGLjRCkwFJdJ2dJ-2S5auBvwUaTpLcL3cQoFvv1xNEVj-SI8v0Z72vlueRoBR85B3ROMrTvKaxOQWq6vt5x4dLDDey3J4kNFYfQ0qlmXAO8pAqGe-8XisY8IlzjtMNbjxPwkgHKFYbAMFBW8s-uQZp3pcq/s629/WRMA.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="629" data-original-width="625" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkFLNiq303tYBDiBwXyMlGngXIQA0eGrhGLjRCkwFJdJ2dJ-2S5auBvwUaTpLcL3cQoFvv1xNEVj-SI8v0Z72vlueRoBR85B3ROMrTvKaxOQWq6vt5x4dLDDey3J4kNFYfQ0qlmXAO8pAqGe-8XisY8IlzjtMNbjxPwkgHKFYbAMFBW8s-uQZp3pcq/s320/WRMA.jpeg" width="318" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-28074312040963188162023-05-31T00:00:00.005-07:002023-06-01T18:49:03.038-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Scamander<p>June is upon us—the perfect month to <i>scamander</i> along trails and streets...</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />... And if you lived in Victorian times (or happen to have access to a copy of <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/47018/47018-h/47018-h.htm" target="_blank">A Dictionary of Slang, Cant, and Vulgar Words, by A London Antiquary</a>, from 1860) you would know that, back then, to <i>scamander</i> meant "to wander about without a settled purpose." <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Horologicon-Jaunt-Through-English-Language/dp/0425264378" target="_blank">Horologicon by Mark Forsyth</a> adds that <i>scamander</i> is the sister word to <i>meander</i>, with both words having their origin in waterways: </p><p></p><blockquote>The river Maeander winds, by a preposterously curly-whirly route, through Izmir in Turkey. The ancient Greeks were very taken with the twisting of the Maeander... If you feel that the Maeander isn't the river for you, you may pick the Scamander, another Turkish watercourse now known as the Karamenderes.</blockquote><p></p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scamander" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a> notes that Scamander was a river god in Greek mythology and that the Scamander River, named after this god, was the river surrounding Troy. The river deity fought on the side of the Trojans during the Trojan War, and tried to drown Achilles three times. I have long forgotten the details of The Iliad by Homer, so tracked down <a href="https://www.bartleby.com/lit-hub/the-iliad-of-homer/the-fight-between-achilles-and-the-river-scamanderthe-gods-fight-among-themselvesachilles-drives-the-trojans-within-their-gates/" target="_blank">the section</a> where Achilles squares off with the river god. I must admit that after reading about how Scamander remarks to the warrior that the river is choked with corpses and couldn't Achilles please just do all his hewing and hacking on land, and Achilles pretty much responds, "No way, I'm a killing machine and there's no stopping me!" that I side with Scamander on all this.</p><p>Having done a fair job of <i>scamander</i>-ing through this post, I'll stop here.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Pcj8KrytQuiN27p8H_rXjSgFBffC9ZmaECDH3COEHvvbDehXOJ4Fn-66yP_6AXIi8WJiLZn74KiDtmRpF02gnfP3-grWTFatkha0n-y2u4UIdvGL40OeyJkINWrPmqWrT3zzhtrTT4grMSpGqZuK0e5J8B0TQOEvLkF7yMCnvT16grcVBLOwHP8t/s2042/Slang-o-rama%20scamander%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="674" data-original-width="2042" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Pcj8KrytQuiN27p8H_rXjSgFBffC9ZmaECDH3COEHvvbDehXOJ4Fn-66yP_6AXIi8WJiLZn74KiDtmRpF02gnfP3-grWTFatkha0n-y2u4UIdvGL40OeyJkINWrPmqWrT3zzhtrTT4grMSpGqZuK0e5J8B0TQOEvLkF7yMCnvT16grcVBLOwHP8t/w640-h213/Slang-o-rama%20scamander%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Have fun as you </span><i style="text-align: left;">scamander</i><span style="text-align: left;"> around this summer, whether in wilderness or city.</span><br /><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Wilderness image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/jaymantri-362084/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=413699">JayMantri</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=413699">Pixabay</a> ; City image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/rdlaw-10461825/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=3873551">RD Law</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=3873551">Pixabay</a></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p> </p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-38669751366881855262023-05-24T00:00:00.001-07:002023-05-24T00:00:00.157-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Ultracrepidarian<p> Ah, we probably all have an <i>ultracrepidarian</i> (or two) in our lives, and they certainly abound in the world at large.</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />This very useful 19th-century word is defined as "a person with opinions on subjects beyond their knowledge" courtesy of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Little-Book-Lost-Words-Snollygosters/dp/0399582673" target="_blank">The Little Book of Lost Words</a> by Joe Gillard. More background appears in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Horologicon-Jaunt-Through-English-Language/dp/0425264378" target="_blank">The Horologicon: A Day's Jaunt Through the Lost Words of the English Language</a> by Mark Forsyth, where he says (<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Horologicon/EPCz3fJVe5UC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22ultracrepidarian%22&pg=PT39&printsec=frontcover" target="_blank">in part</a>) that the word <i>ultracrepidarian</i> was "introduced into English by the essayist William Hazlitt, but it goes back to a story about the great ancient Greek painter Apelles." </p><p>That story (I'm summarizing here) involves a cobbler (i.e., one who mends shoes) telling the painter he'd painted the shoe all wrong in a particular painting. When Apelles fixed the offending shoe, the cobbler proceeded to loudly describe what was wrong with the leg. According to the story, Apelles then shouted, "Ne sutor ultra crepidam!" This, according to Forsyth, roughly translates into "the cobbler should go no further than the shoe!" Thus (saith Forsyth) <i>ultracredpidarian</i> literally means beyond-the-shoe.</p><p>You can find out more about this wonderful word on the website World Wide Words, which has <a href="https://www.worldwidewords.org/weirdwords/ww-ult1.htm" target="_blank">a nifty entry</a> on <i>ultracrepidarian </i>with many more details on the tale of Apelles and the cobbler. </p><p>And now, you have a great 19th-century word that you can apply to 21st-century charlatans and pretend-pundits... May you use it wisely!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZ2wQBQeFSUFiN0KiGJBt5CmxR2Vn4UfqDABVCD2-UZvZRUf_m7UO3bVB1IcizdNQLB4x7GzrjwkLXC6pNy4ftTcTX7OaYQJCSOgmo2H3iqWQp2EyJKL0tf9zituYh9gNySjoY-vuWawXl8pbUZduEB0qHKQrYzPvytrqRn_UeijRQGK1A73S_NZz/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20ultracrepidarian%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1015" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZ2wQBQeFSUFiN0KiGJBt5CmxR2Vn4UfqDABVCD2-UZvZRUf_m7UO3bVB1IcizdNQLB4x7GzrjwkLXC6pNy4ftTcTX7OaYQJCSOgmo2H3iqWQp2EyJKL0tf9zituYh9gNySjoY-vuWawXl8pbUZduEB0qHKQrYzPvytrqRn_UeijRQGK1A73S_NZz/s320/Slang-o-rama%20ultracrepidarian%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="254" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There they go, overstepping their area of expertise yet again.<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/openclipart-vectors-30363/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1297985">OpenClipart-Vectors</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1297985">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-30269323031855430232023-05-17T00:00:00.001-07:002023-05-17T13:03:09.155-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Showdown<p> In westerns of old, a <i>showdown</i> is often what follows a remark such as "Them's fightin' words, pardner." I'm guessing <i>showdown </i>predates the mythological rise of "The American West," but what do I know? (Not as much as I sometimes think I do!)</p><p>Time to check it out...</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />Well, this is interesting! The <a href="https://www.etymonline.com/word/showdown" target="_blank">Online Etymological Dictionary</a> says <i>showdown</i> first popped up in 1873 as a poker-playing term:</p><p></p><blockquote>...a slang term for the act of laying down the hands face-up, from show (v.) + down (adv.). Figurative sense of "final confrontation" is by 1904.</blockquote><p>On the one hand (so to speak!), the term does seem to have arisen in the 19th-century American West On the other hand, calling a confrontation in the middle of main street before the turn of the 20th century a <i>showdown</i> probably isn't accurate.</p><p>I did find at least one written example of <i>showdown</i> in the "Draw, pardner!" sense in a 1895 book <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Second_book_of_tales/bDkRAAAAYAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22showdown%22&pg=PA151&printsec=frontcover" target="_blank">Second Book of Tales</a> by Eugene Field, in a short story titled "The Wooing of Miss Woppit." I've included the snippet where it appears below, because the stilted Western vernacular is rather fun to read:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XJeqdj6dwK2qmV5D7YWIOHXCn77BH04ChLx0Jm8x9IQw29geRC5sZQwLNidpl4IC54-zdcyiN_X2UjCFsKIGUIsHfdcAl8PCzwtN7XmmA-AVu5MqfYHby3yONt0nex9V3pKMRORR8Y4QEYTwgAdcsk8vxM22EBSn1przKO4OQuKU3MmbfdsGl_wC/s1368/Slang-o-rama%20showdown%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1030" data-original-width="1368" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XJeqdj6dwK2qmV5D7YWIOHXCn77BH04ChLx0Jm8x9IQw29geRC5sZQwLNidpl4IC54-zdcyiN_X2UjCFsKIGUIsHfdcAl8PCzwtN7XmmA-AVu5MqfYHby3yONt0nex9V3pKMRORR8Y4QEYTwgAdcsk8vxM22EBSn1przKO4OQuKU3MmbfdsGl_wC/w400-h301/Slang-o-rama%20showdown%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>And finally, here's a little four-minute clip from the 1958 movie <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0052194/" target="_blank">Showdown at Boot Hill</a> with Charles Bronson. This scene features, yep, a <i>showdown</i>... not on the street, but rather in a hotel restaurant. The end result (bad guy down, good guy standing) is about what you'd expect from a Western movie of this vintage. <br /></p><p>Enjoy!</p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/T4IfMIK2fHE" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe><p><br /></p><p></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-26995257574171561102023-05-10T00:00:00.001-07:002023-05-10T00:00:00.160-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Bailiwick<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">"That's not my </span><i style="text-align: left;">bailiwick</i><span style="text-align: left;">" is something my mother used to say, and I'll admit that this statement pops to mind on occasion (although these days one is more likely to hear "not in my wheelhouse"). So, what is a </span><i style="text-align: left;">bailiwick</i><span style="text-align: left;"> anyway? I truly have no idea. So, let's subject it to the Slang-o-rama microscope!</span></div><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />The <a href="https://www.etymonline.com/word/bailiwick" target="_blank">Online Etymology Dictionary</a> is always a good place to start. And yep, here's what they say about the noun <i>bailiwick</i>:</p><p></p><blockquote>mid-15c., "district of a bailiff, jurisdiction of a royal officer or under-sheriff," a contraction of <i><b>baillifwik</b></i>, from <i><b>bailiff</b></i> (q.v.) + Middle English <i><b>wik</b></i>, from Old English <i><b>wic</b></i> "village"... The figurative sense of "one's natural or proper sphere" is by 1843.</blockquote><p></p><p>I checked my hardcopy of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Barnhart-Concise-Dictionary-Etymology-Robert/dp/0062700847/" target="_blank">The Barnhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology</a> by Robert K. Barnhart, which says pretty much the same thing, with 1843 being its first appearance (in the figurative sense) in "American English." <a href="https://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/bailiwick" target="_blank">Vocabulary.com</a> offers a bit more detail for definitions and so on:</p><p></p><blockquote><p>A <i>bailiwick</i> is an area of knowledge in which a person or institution has control or expertise — as in "My <i>bailiwick</i> is international relations." There is a faintly old-fashioned, even pedantic air to the term now, so use with caution.</p><p><i>Bailiwick</i> also can mean a geographical area over which someone or some body has legal or political control, though this is a less common meaning nowadays... Britain's central criminal court, the famous Old Bailey, is so named because it lay on the ancient bailey or wall that defined the original City of London.</p></blockquote><p></p><p>If you want to do a deep dive into the non-idiomatic origin and use of this word, check out <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bailiwick" target="_blank">this Wikipedia entry</a> which even includes a list of existing geographical <i>bailiwicks</i>. But hey, since this particular entry doesn't offer a dive into the slang aspects, it's not in my <i>bailiwick</i>....</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEUDSLHOBMm6CRqdhFh3hf0fWjO3vtl_iTuMdIHq65M63hXXeeQBjUFhLECR5ELYUR86oUYm6hDBF2Sl_i7oPaUL2aN0Nmy8UtPbAN456KW4qVI8dN0PDuQ1JucKPIew18TDmraUk4N4OfJj3ubezAYNNoKNJbii36X37ABAmgcD-Vs-RkcbhUn40/s2078/Slang-o-rama%20bailiwick%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="860" data-original-width="2078" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEUDSLHOBMm6CRqdhFh3hf0fWjO3vtl_iTuMdIHq65M63hXXeeQBjUFhLECR5ELYUR86oUYm6hDBF2Sl_i7oPaUL2aN0Nmy8UtPbAN456KW4qVI8dN0PDuQ1JucKPIew18TDmraUk4N4OfJj3ubezAYNNoKNJbii36X37ABAmgcD-Vs-RkcbhUn40/w400-h165/Slang-o-rama%20bailiwick%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The <i>Bailiwick</i> of Guernsey? Not what we're looking at here in Slang-o-rama.<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Bailiwick of Jersey flag: <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/" style="text-align: left;" title="Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0">CC BY-SA 3.0</a><span style="text-align: left;">, </span><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30193" style="text-align: left;">Link</a><span style="text-align: left;"> Hand image: </span><a href="https://pixabay.com/users/regiotv-130074/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=244360" style="text-align: left;">RegioTV</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=244360" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-2568344967373791292023-05-03T00:00:00.001-07:002023-05-04T14:55:38.054-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: When push comes to shove<p> Now here's a phrase for the ages: <i>When push comes to shove</i>. I can so easily imagine/hear my Silver Rush protagonist Inez Stannert thinking/saying this.</p><p>But... could she/would she, in the 1880s? </p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Heritage-Dictionary-Idioms/dp/039572774X/" target="_blank">The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms</a> by Christine Ammer defines this phrase as meaning "when matters must be confronted, when a crucial point is reached." (Goodness knows Inez has many such moments.)</p><p>This is what that dictionary has to say about the origin of <i>when </i>(or <i>if</i>) <i>push comes to shove:</i></p><p></p><blockquote>This term comes from rugby, where, after an infraction of rules, forwards from each team face off and push against one another until one player can kick the ball to a teammate and resume the game. Its figurative use dates from the 1950s.</blockquote><p>1950s?? Uh-oh. Let's check some other references, because 1950s sounds way too recent.</p><p><a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Slang-Robert-L-Chapman/dp/B000H2NASA/" target="_blank">American Slang 2nd Edition </a>by Robert L. Chapman defines the phrase a little differently—a touchy situation becomes actively hostile; a quarrel becomes a fight—and places its use by 1958. (Yikes!) Ah, but <a href="https://www.grammarphobia.com/blog/2016/02/when-push-comes-to-shove.html" target="_blank">The Grammarphobia blog</a> comes to my rescue with a post that points to its use in the 19th century:</p><p></p><blockquote><p>The expression “when (or if) push comes to shove” originated in 19th-century African-American usage, according to the <i>Oxford English Dictionary</i>.</p><p>The <i>OED</i> labels it colloquial—more likely to be found in speech than in formal writing—and says it means “when action must back up words” or “if or when one must commit oneself to an action or decision.” </p><p>People generally talk about a problem before finally doing something about it. So think of talking as the “push” and acting as the “shove.”</p><div>The expression wasn’t recorded until the 1890s, according to <i>OED</i> citations, but no doubt it was used conversationally for years before it ever showed up in print.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Oxford</i> gives a hint of the reasoning behind the saying in this 1873 citation from Thomas De Witt Talmage, writing in the United Methodist Free Churches’ Magazine:
“The proposed improvement is about to fail, when Push comes up behind it and gives it a shove, and Pull goes in front and lays into the traces; and, lo! the enterprise advances, the goal is reached!”</div></blockquote><p>Ooooh, I think I'll go with the <i>OED</i> as the final say in this, and trust that perhaps at some point my fictional characters would have bandied that phrase amongst themselves in the 1880s. Because, yes, the phrase shows up in my eight books. I'm not going to tell you where, though. I'll leave that as an exercise for you, dear reader. (If you figure out where this phrase appears in my Silver Rush series, feel free to contact me... I might have a "little something special" for you when you do!)<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsaupa_1VnS8-SwP-nHKc4bUtd3bEMIUV_GZViWN7Enj3f1OQHzv3gVHbKt1YNijhJ2ABuAoRpFblTXStXBVyUG2Q_5dfR282w1GMgPrf8bX_Sv3tGkgUUgZlEJAtCHNpmwYZiZpGQhABYFoxakJQ5o1j9AFp4qtFq_8RYBGMrCsQGA_OC29vqrvF6/s2533/Slang-o-rama%20push%20shove2%20Ann%20Parker.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2083" data-original-width="2533" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsaupa_1VnS8-SwP-nHKc4bUtd3bEMIUV_GZViWN7Enj3f1OQHzv3gVHbKt1YNijhJ2ABuAoRpFblTXStXBVyUG2Q_5dfR282w1GMgPrf8bX_Sv3tGkgUUgZlEJAtCHNpmwYZiZpGQhABYFoxakJQ5o1j9AFp4qtFq_8RYBGMrCsQGA_OC29vqrvF6/s320/Slang-o-rama%20push%20shove2%20Ann%20Parker.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When an argument devolves to "push comes to shove," don't push it!<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/754058" target="_blank">A literary argument on the second tier</a>, from 'Theater sketches,' published in Le Charivari, February 27, 1864<br />Artist: Honoré Daumier (French, Marseilles 1808–1879 Valmondois) </i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div></div>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-25678276665398457562023-04-26T00:00:00.002-07:002023-04-27T11:16:30.767-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Haywire<p> Ever had those times when you've had life <i>go haywire</i>, as in "become wildly confused, out of control, or crazy" (definition courtesy of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Heritage-Dictionary-Idioms/dp/039572774X/" target="_blank">The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms</a> by Christine Ammer)?</p><p>Well, I'm here to tell you all about it....</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />... or at least, about the etymology of this bit o' slang!</p><p>Ammer offers that <i>go haywire</i> "alludes to the wire used for bundling hay, which is hard to handle and readily tangled." She also places its first appearance in the first half of the 1900s, which is a pretty wide swath of time. For historical fiction writers, there is a big difference as to whether this phrase entered common use in 1901 vs 1950.</p><p>Let's see what other references have to say about <i>going</i> <i>haywire</i>...</p><p>The <a href="https://www.etymonline.com/word/haywire" target="_blank">Online Etymology Dictionary</a> has this nice entry, starting with its more prosaic definition:</p><p><b></b></p><blockquote><b>haywire (n)</b> "soft wire for binding bales of hay," by 1891, from hay + wire (n.). Adjective meaning "poorly equipped, makeshift" is 1905, American English, from the sense of something held together only with haywire, particularly said to be from use of the stuff in New England lumber camps for jury-rigging and makeshift purposes, so that <i>hay wire outfit</i> became the "contemptuous term for loggers with poor logging equipment" [Bryant, "Logging," 1913]. Its springy, uncontrollable quality led to the sense in <i>go haywire</i> (by 1915).</blockquote><p></p><p>So, 1915, eh? Could I then have a character <i>go haywire</i> in a story set during in the early days of Prohibition, for instance?</p><p>Not so fast, says <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Barnhart-Concise-Dictionary-Etymology-Robert/dp/0062700847" target="_blank">The Barnhart Concise Dictionary of Etymology</a> by Robert K. Barnhart, which places the first recording of <i>go haywire</i> in 1929. <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/notesandqueries/query/0,5753,-2489,00.html#:~:text=GOING%20HAYWIRE%20was%20an%20expression,tidied%20up%20hence%20the%20expression." target="_blank">The Guardian</a> has folks chiming in, offering various dates from "early 1900" to a more recent use in 1940s. </p><p>Enough of this wishy-washy waving of hands. Time to bring out the big guns: Google Ngram. Running down the list of references, I found a 1916 utterance of this problematic phrase in <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Nick_of_the_Woods/8z4eAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0" target="_blank">Nick of the Woods</a> by "Alaska Blacklock" (a pseudonym of George Edward Lewis). In his tale of the still-wild Northwest frontier, the idiomatic term <i>gone haywire</i> is used in dialogue as a bit of wordplay-with-a-wink with the noun <i>haywire</i>:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmIwxiDjMC0ZVfEDV5x70cqfHrbh8JBnQbHizeCF64bxZ4TcT3FEISPZPXpPrO4Tro9Ysy_XVWNeJBFGea2nxmQc3PLAgg6tfRUpB-Dq0MpmrJrXcAbm7XZokDijMs8GIW-aXEm8prtqwQq6DkfE6TijxD5jjG0mIHyDSA5AwOhG3AAZI72S-bDpl/s1738/Slang-o-rama%20haywire1%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="718" data-original-width="1738" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDmIwxiDjMC0ZVfEDV5x70cqfHrbh8JBnQbHizeCF64bxZ4TcT3FEISPZPXpPrO4Tro9Ysy_XVWNeJBFGea2nxmQc3PLAgg6tfRUpB-Dq0MpmrJrXcAbm7XZokDijMs8GIW-aXEm8prtqwQq6DkfE6TijxD5jjG0mIHyDSA5AwOhG3AAZI72S-bDpl/w640-h264/Slang-o-rama%20haywire1%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p>Hey! (or should I make that "Hay!" 🤣 )... 1916 (or so) works for me! </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXkoY2JY-o6S1AjcuAIvNru996AkxC78Dq1b9u7uUOtIZlhGRL9zgJ9IFTZuH296s2nRSwUzN1orTLTF7mCDY2o6R298q_ikbNkmUCe6WQonRODeKGbA2pD0jNciUWlUZfAXsl04KoDyD84fbSa6noQFjd0xQmTS_M7jE6tJWKAR3ek9bKNyB7RRm/s2540/Slang-o-rama%20haywire2%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1246" data-original-width="2540" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmXkoY2JY-o6S1AjcuAIvNru996AkxC78Dq1b9u7uUOtIZlhGRL9zgJ9IFTZuH296s2nRSwUzN1orTLTF7mCDY2o6R298q_ikbNkmUCe6WQonRODeKGbA2pD0jNciUWlUZfAXsl04KoDyD84fbSa6noQFjd0xQmTS_M7jE6tJWKAR3ek9bKNyB7RRm/w640-h314/Slang-o-rama%20haywire2%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Hay wire</b> in a lovely green field or <b>haywire</b> in a crazy day? Depends on how you're feeling!<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Left image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/4678112-4678112/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=2127293" style="text-align: left;">Mikhail Timofeev</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=2127293" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a>; Right image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/tweetyspics-3403102/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=3350545" style="text-align: left;">David Bruyland</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=3350545" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-33515422593908350562023-04-20T15:41:00.006-07:002023-04-20T15:41:57.880-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Draw a blank<p> I'm a little late on Slang-o-rama this week as my mind drew a blank. So, I finally decided <i>draw a blank</i> would be the bit o' slang I'd tackle this week....</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />Draw a blank, or fail to find or remember something, is from the early 1800s and alludes to "drawing a lottery ticket with nothing on it (so one cannot win a prize)"—at least according to <a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Heritage-Dictionary-Idioms-Second/dp/0547676581" target="_blank">The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms</a> by Christine Ammer.</p><p><a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Slang-Robert-Chapman-1998-09-09/dp/B01A1MMY0U/" target="_blank">American Slang, 2nd Edition</a> (Robert L. Chapman) draws some distinctions in definition and first use, noting that to <i>draw a blank</i> meaning "failing completely in recall" harkens from the 1940s (!!), while tthe meaning of "get nothing, have a negative result, fail," was in use by 1825.</p><p><a href="https://grammarist.com/idiom/draw-a-blank/" target="_blank">The Grammarist</a> begs to differ, placing its origin back in the days of Queen Elizabeth I:</p><p></p><blockquote>The phrase <i>draw a blank</i> dates back to the 16th century in Tudor England, when Queen Elizabeth first ran a lottery for the people. Names would be written on slips of paper and put into one box, and a second box would be filled with a mix of prizes and blanks. Two slips would be selected, one from each box, and you’d be paired with a prize or a blank, hence the phrase <i>drawing a blank</i>.</blockquote><p>Checking <a href="https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/draw-a-blank.html" target="_blank">The Phrase Finder</a>, I see they agree with The Grammarist, while also expanding on this explanation.</p><p>It's still a little unclear to me as to whether one of my 19th century characters could declare they'd <i>drawn a blank</i> on remembering something or other. I dove into Google Ngram, but didn't see any quotes that would use the phrase in the sense of "can't recall." Oh dear! Have I used this idiom in one of my Silver Rush mysteries? I'm<i> drawing a blank</i>... </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpfdlS7GjaiD3RXOFE91Sfn0hiR2aLsMfdzVf3SaPILUyU-M4rOQqzIzAKYe8JsRurONRwrnUPXXwctLlEYQA2ao9FrbzpxSftW8mupixzn_VZfOIG6Q28Fnc2MqshrsNBQh_DK9pcPOFsvWoUvT23ZRkzPQWpr_zaJ99PLvRtjCRYKFWPWMwKkUEF/s1920/Slang-o-rama%20draw%20a%20blank%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="1920" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpfdlS7GjaiD3RXOFE91Sfn0hiR2aLsMfdzVf3SaPILUyU-M4rOQqzIzAKYe8JsRurONRwrnUPXXwctLlEYQA2ao9FrbzpxSftW8mupixzn_VZfOIG6Q28Fnc2MqshrsNBQh_DK9pcPOFsvWoUvT23ZRkzPQWpr_zaJ99PLvRtjCRYKFWPWMwKkUEF/w400-h234/Slang-o-rama%20draw%20a%20blank%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did I or didn't I?<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/anemone123-2637160/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=2736480" style="text-align: left;">Anemone123</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=2736480" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-36024113262308463292023-04-11T23:00:00.004-07:002023-04-11T23:00:00.195-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Whooperup<p>I was looking at words from "long ago and far away" and bumped into <i>whooperup</i>. At a guess, I thought it might describe a sound one might make while celebrating, and might perhaps be a bit of Old West slang (as in, "The cattle drive is over, let's head into town and <i>whooperup</i>."). Nnnnot quite.</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br /><br />According to <a href="https://greensdictofslang.com/entry/mso4aaq" target="_blank">Green’s Dictionary of Slang</a>, <i>whooperup </i>is a noun meaning "a second-rate singer who produces noise rather than music." Green's notes it's of British origin and offers up a first-use date of 1909. <a href="https://dustyoldthing.com/35-victorian-slang-terms/" target="_blank">Dusty Old Thing</a> adds a few more adjectives with the definition of "loud and disorderly people engaged in discordant song."</p><p>Turning to Google's Ngram, I did find one reference to <i>whooperup</i> in an 1891 issue of <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Outing/i6rQAAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22whooperup%22&pg=PA496&printsec=frontcover" target="_blank">Outing: An Illustrated Weekly Magazine of Sport, Travel, and Recreation (Vol. XVIII)</a> in a chapter titled "Harry's Career at Yale." So perhaps we can nudge this non-musically-inclined word back into the 19th century...</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFZas2GV142XlHh3DL2raTyGJrjmCKhq3po1ksAHSOjFSMD6lbrN-lsKcmmNal7_ZcMklk8nl-fNsXpbV7yHEp84ZOIK9I5V1MberbGK7-v0Wt3ReF-AECTSv83dyJf1S32shvWtOld2aXK_e7DS9cNTcmhdpWyJtg7BB9GyTaldiKzQsT49j9tFs/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20whooperup%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="825" data-original-width="1280" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFZas2GV142XlHh3DL2raTyGJrjmCKhq3po1ksAHSOjFSMD6lbrN-lsKcmmNal7_ZcMklk8nl-fNsXpbV7yHEp84ZOIK9I5V1MberbGK7-v0Wt3ReF-AECTSv83dyJf1S32shvWtOld2aXK_e7DS9cNTcmhdpWyJtg7BB9GyTaldiKzQsT49j9tFs/w400-h258/Slang-o-rama%20whooperup%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whooperups, whooping it up.<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/clker-free-vector-images-3736/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=32977" style="text-align: left;">Clker-Free-Vector-Images</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=32977" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-66000253779154825992023-04-05T00:00:00.001-07:002023-04-05T00:00:00.193-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Bronx cheer<p> New York City is much in the news these days, so is there any wonder that the phrase <i>Bronx cheer</i> popped into my mind?</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />Here's the definition from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Slang-Robert-L-Chapman/dp/B000H2NASA" target="_blank">American Slang, 2nd Edition by Robert L. Chapman</a> (which is one of the first reference books I pulled out, given that <i>Bronx cheer</i><i style="font-weight: bold;"> clearly</i> originated in the U.S.): "(1) A loud, rude, flatulating noise made with the tongue and lips ... (2) Any outright and precise expression of derision." Chapman dates <i>Bronx cheer</i> to the 1920s.</p><p><a href="https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/bronx-cheer.html" target="_blank">The Phrase Finder</a>, a nifty online resource based in the UK, has a nice discussion of this saying, and even includes a little map of Manhattan that pinpoints the location of the Bronx. After delving into the origin of the word <i>Bronx</i> (a bit of interesting NY history there), Phrase Finder notes that <i>Bronx cheer</i> began showing up in newspapers in the 1920s, with this earliest sighting in a newspaper article in the Bridgeport Telegram, October 1921: "...if Chicago lose the east will grin and give western football the jolly old <i>Bronx cheer</i>."</p>The Phrase Finder then makes the point that the use of this bit o'slang in print without any accompanying explanation implies that the author expected his readers to be familiar with it, and that the use of "old" as a description also suggests an origin prior to 1921. More musings about the precise origin—in sports? in theater?—follow, as well as a quick notation on the expression <i>blowing a raspberry</i>, which is essentially the UK equivalent of <i>Bronx cheer</i>. There is also a cute little photo of a small girl enthusiastically <i>blowing a raspberry</i>. The Phrase Finder never disappoints, so I invite you to <a href="https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/bronx-cheer.html" target="_blank">click on over and read the entire entry.</a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93HfIg05IvTGGKphgaZ7mFzZA8QdSuSQoNEMW3Yko63oHIO0Npj_10CNP5GIS6Lcl2r8gYqXwoDmhrtU_4q5PrHX9gEISRIvREjqw8RcUh-psiq3qD5kUiVj-tejrLBvuvNlNBRR_ROnN2_KzpaJbWjDLZb8LyQtjATHpgVYMXy5Ho9IAebTJPlmF/s1280/slang-o-rama%20bronx%20cheer%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="1280" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93HfIg05IvTGGKphgaZ7mFzZA8QdSuSQoNEMW3Yko63oHIO0Npj_10CNP5GIS6Lcl2r8gYqXwoDmhrtU_4q5PrHX9gEISRIvREjqw8RcUh-psiq3qD5kUiVj-tejrLBvuvNlNBRR_ROnN2_KzpaJbWjDLZb8LyQtjATHpgVYMXy5Ho9IAebTJPlmF/s320/slang-o-rama%20bronx%20cheer%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I can almost hear it now...<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/gdj-1086657/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1817570" style="text-align: left;">Gordon Johnson</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1817570" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><br /></div>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-41783556035884407072023-03-29T00:00:00.001-07:002023-03-29T19:38:04.220-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Shooting the breeze<p> Confession: I am *stillI* unpacking from the Left Coast Crime conference (these things take time!), and reliving pleasant memories of catching up with folks in person, and just <i>shooting the breeze</i>. </p><p>This phrase, meaning to chat idly or informally, sounds very "Old West" to me. I can imagine a couple of Silver Rush characters, hanging out at a street corner in San Francisco's Barbary Coast or in the fictional Silver Queen Saloon in Leadville, just <i>shooting the breeze</i>. However...</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />></p><p>...according to <a href="https://www.theidioms.com/shoot-the-breeze/" target="_blank">The Idioms</a> (which claims to be the "largest idiom dictionary... hmmmm), <i>shooting the breeze</i> is of more recent vintage, originating in the U.S. in the early 1900s. As to why "breeze," the entry notes:</p><p></p><blockquote>A breeze is a light wind, and that’s why the word is used in this phrase to denote a light talk, idle talk, unimportant conversation, or a rumor. ... Sometimes, you can find that “bull” is used instead of “breeze,” but the meaning remains the same. “Shoot the bull” developed from the American institution known as a “bull session,” a gathering of men and it was first recorded in 1908 in prints.</blockquote><p>The <a href="https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=shoot+the+breeze" target="_blank">Online Etymology Dictionary</a> places <i>shoot the breeze</i> even later, at 1938, suggesting it may have originated as military slang. <a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/shoot_the_breeze" target="_blank">Wiktionary</a> pegs it at 1919, adding that the word <i>breeze</i> alludes to "talking into the wind." Turning to Google Ngram, I tracked down the earliest use of this slang-ish phrase in the <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Syllabus_of_Northwestern_University/NxMzAQAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22shoot+the+breeze%22&dq=%22shoot+the+breeze%22&printsec=frontcover" target="_blank">1917 Syllabus of Northwestern University</a> and in the <a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Coopers_International_Journal/ADZ_AAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&bsq=%22shoot%20the%20breeze%22" target="_blank">Coopers International Journal of 1918</a> (which has some awesome photos, if you scroll around through this publication). Of course, it could easily have shown up earlier in newspapers and in speech. Still, I guess I can't have Inez Stannert <i>shooting the breeze</i> in 1879 Leadville or even in 1882 San Francisco...</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy50_Np1NquRJXdHES34Sh4PlE5G4S9RQRkATxF39b7YmPUO8r2ZV3IWMwoNyH204uwhRYaH_WIznq6abMoH8xCo8BnzGRw2z0w2iPPB1NFT9UHzjec4fSy_KCFYT-b2IxSwbzQ7JtqCA687AAQ7tdCk3N6bJ86pfLq2twvoZoNwp09V_wz2SbVtMJ/s1280/Slang-o-rama%20shoot%20the%20breeze%20Ann%20Parker.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="1280" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy50_Np1NquRJXdHES34Sh4PlE5G4S9RQRkATxF39b7YmPUO8r2ZV3IWMwoNyH204uwhRYaH_WIznq6abMoH8xCo8BnzGRw2z0w2iPPB1NFT9UHzjec4fSy_KCFYT-b2IxSwbzQ7JtqCA687AAQ7tdCk3N6bJ86pfLq2twvoZoNwp09V_wz2SbVtMJ/w400-h253/Slang-o-rama%20shoot%20the%20breeze%20Ann%20Parker.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, we cannot "shoot the breeze." Come back in 1917 and ask me then.<br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/prawny-162579/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1892136" style="text-align: left;">Prawny</a><span style="text-align: left;"> from </span><a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1892136" style="text-align: left;">Pixabay</a>.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-68664342809940687512023-03-22T00:00:00.001-07:002023-03-23T12:53:28.972-07:00Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Done in<p> Just came back from Left Coast Crime "Trouble in Tucson" conference, where I had a wonderful time. Kudos to the conference organizers and volunteers and a special whoop and holler to all the "Lefty" <a href="https://leftcoastcrime.org/LeftyArchives.html#2023" target="_blank">winners and finalists</a>! 👏 👍 It was great to catch up with people I know from the mystery world, and to meet and chat with new readers and writers. (My TBR pile underwent a major expansion due to this trip!) I'm back home now and whew! I'm all <i>done in</i>.</p><p>Which leads to the Slang-o-rama post of the week...</p><p>><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />><br />></p><p><i>Done in</i>, meaning "exhausted, very tired," dates from early 1900s, according to my hardcover copy of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Heritage-Dictionary-Idioms/dp/039572774X/" target="_blank">The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms</a> by Christine Ammer (copyright 1997... yeah, I've had this a while!). Turning to the internet, I found an entry on <a href="https://greensdictofslang.com/entry/ksf73nq" target="_blank">Green's Dictionary of Slang</a> (which is quite an awesome reference for all things slang, btw), which included the following definitions for <i>done in</i>, and different dates for their first appearance.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>very tired, exhausted (also <i>done out</i>): 1900</li><li>beyond further effort: 1912</li><li>dead: 1916</li><li>intoxicated by a drug: 2013</li></ul><div>Well, I'm definitely not dead yet and not intoxicated by a drug (unless caffeine counts?)... but the other two definitions apply. I think I'll cut this entry short, rest a bit, and contemplate what to do with the rest of the day.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5yJ6MGLL6XCY3AikF2pQiFmLpoNwRauMKuZQx_ac2_z2AJ1cjnRAQHCSBWQgxDF0tZatRjy9aIumzKMram5J0odo0_5VYOYFY_k7G2cvLD4h7BVhiE37glpVpfPeP7YEuKXzR2pX4Qo8fqpd6x1l6hBdsmfNyVukregn6MwsBVULVWI2YOioLOSro/s4096/Done%20in%20Slang-o-rama%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3427" data-original-width="4096" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5yJ6MGLL6XCY3AikF2pQiFmLpoNwRauMKuZQx_ac2_z2AJ1cjnRAQHCSBWQgxDF0tZatRjy9aIumzKMram5J0odo0_5VYOYFY_k7G2cvLD4h7BVhiE37glpVpfPeP7YEuKXzR2pX4Qo8fqpd6x1l6hBdsmfNyVukregn6MwsBVULVWI2YOioLOSro/w400-h335/Done%20in%20Slang-o-rama%20Ann%20Parker.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Feeling <b><i>done in</i></b>: Shall I do the laundry or make a bowl of popcorn and binge on Netflix?</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>John Singer Sargent, <a href="https://www.nga.gov/collection/art-object-page.35080.html" target="_blank">Nonchaloir (Repose)</a>, 1911, National Gallery of Art</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><p></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4565536117447494278.post-67651483066648661372023-03-15T00:00:00.001-07:002023-03-15T00:00:00.204-07:00Goodreads giveaway of SECRET<p> I'm off this week at Left Coast Crime, but good things are brewing in my absence!</p><p>The folks at Poisoned Pen Press/Sourcebooks are offering 15 copies of THE SECRET IN THE WALL in a Goodreads giveaway! To enter, <a href="https://srcbks.com/3Lkr2QP" target="_blank">go here</a>, click on the "Enter Giveaway" button, and fill out the info.</p><p><b>Note - The clock is ticking: The giveaway ends on March 25, so don't dither too long!</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEKnaEBw_zi3e6bbu5SbFlWuUtJOWvEp9nOhGxr_TvRVJprD9tlIfhOq7q-dCYoTP_MW4VmA3Fjeo-j-H8T0taOUAzhm48IBiIihbCczOAZNQVA3gcLLAMMlD3pBr9bHxHoeWmtO3pw_akTLVx-PVA8yU8u6FDU1mG3Xl2JpWO1vngi9awhXUlvJvJ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhEKnaEBw_zi3e6bbu5SbFlWuUtJOWvEp9nOhGxr_TvRVJprD9tlIfhOq7q-dCYoTP_MW4VmA3Fjeo-j-H8T0taOUAzhm48IBiIihbCczOAZNQVA3gcLLAMMlD3pBr9bHxHoeWmtO3pw_akTLVx-PVA8yU8u6FDU1mG3Xl2JpWO1vngi9awhXUlvJvJ" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>Ann Parkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05422047704540904303noreply@blogger.com0