Wednesday's Random Not-Quite-Slang O-rama: 1800s telephone etiquette

Taking a little different tack on today's posting with a peek into recent research and my findings and frustrations.

What do you say when you greet someone over the phone? It's probably some version of "Hello." I'm betting it's not "Ahoy!" However, if Alexander Graham Bell had had his way, that might indeed be what you'd holler down the (wireless) line....

Ring-a-ding-ding, 19th century-style.
Image by Momentmal from Pixabay

One recent night as the midnight hour struck, I became a little over-obsessed over how phone calls were handled in the 19th century. (Late at night is never a good time for me to get obsessed.) I stumbled upon an NPR article explaining that whereas Bell preferred the term Ahoy! as a telephonic greeting, Thomas Edison preferred Hello! (We know who won that tug-of-war.) This passage also caught my late-night attention:

... [T]he first phone book ever published, by the District Telephone Company of New Haven, Connecticut, in 1878 (with 50 subscribers listed) told users to begin their conversations with "a firm and cheery 'hulloa.'"

I knew there was a telephone exchange in Leadville, Colorado, in 1879, thanks to Leadville silver baron Horace Tabor. (In fact, there's a wonderful article in Colorado Magazine, dated 1928, talking about the early years of telephone, right here.) And San Francisco apparently had its first telephone directory in 1878. 

Wouldn't it be wonderful, thinks I, if I could find a digital copy of that early San Francisco phone book and read their instructions on telephone etiquette and how to use a telephone??

The minutes ticked by as I buzzed around the internet, looking for such a directory. Alas, all I could dig up was a version that had been typed up from the original in 1952. This transcribed version only included names and addresses and the cryptic note: 

Names preceded by stars are connected with the CENTRAL OFFICE SYSTEM and can be switched into private connection with each other.

I finally uncovered a text version of the 1893 San Francisco Telephone Directory, which although much later in time than my 1882 setting, includes this fascinating information on page 2:
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REMARKS FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE SERVICE. 

"HERE'S 64."  

At least half the time consumed in every telephone connection, is used in ascertaining who is talking at each end. If subscribers will adopt the following style, they will be surprised at the saving of time and annoyance to themselves 

Suppose Smith's Telephone number is 741 and he desires to converse with Jones, whose telephone number is 64. 

FIRST: Smith calls Central Office and says: "741 wants 64" and waits, with telephone at his ear. SECOND: Central Office rings Jones' Bell.
THIRD: Jones rings his bell once in reply and without waiting further, says, "here's 64, Mr. Jones;"
FOURTH: Smith then says, "this is Mr. Smith," and proceeds with his conversation. 

"SUNSET" 

The lines connecting San Francisco with the interior towns are owned by the SUNSET TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH CO. If subscribers will kindly observe the following Instructions, they will receive quicker and more satisfying service:
1.--When you wish to connect with any interior town, call the local Exchange as usual.
2.--Operator: "What is it, please?"
2.--Subscriber: "Sunset room."(Central office then connects the Sunset room and--)
3.--Operator: "Here's the Sunset;"
3.--Subscriber: "Give me No. 42 Oakland;"
4.--Operator: "Who is talking, please?"
4.--Subscriber: "Mr. Jones."
5.--Operator: "Whom shall we ask for, please?'
5.--Subscriber: (The subscriber will now name the person with whom he particularly desires to converse, or tell the operator to call up "Anybody".)
Then hang up your telephone: your order is now fully understood and when we ring your bell again, we will have Mr. Brown at Oakland, he will know it is Mr. Jones at telephone No. 46, San Francisco wants him, and both will be saved a lot of preliminary "hello,"  "Is that Mr. Jones," "Who are you," etc., etc.

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There it is, in the very last paragraph: the word "hello."

Of course, this is from 1893, and since my current work-in-progress has a bit of a nautical flavor, you can bet your bottom dollar I'm going to find a way to slip in an "Ahoy!" here and there.

I also have a little more direction as to what might be said and heard as my protagonist Inez  Stannert attempts to eavesdrop on a telephone conversation in the next room in 1882 San Francisco....

"Ahoy there, sailor...."
Les bienfaits du téléphone Abeillé, Jack , Dessinateur Entre 1904 et 1912 20e siècle Petit Palais, musée des Beaux-arts de la Ville de Paris PPD4790 CC0

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Pish-posh

Now here's a great expression I used in A DYING NOTE and that I'm itching to use again: pish-posh. Or, if you prefer: pish-tosh.

Nice eh? Of course, the expression isn't nice or complimentary.
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According to my copy of Green's Dictionary of Slang, pish-posh is an interjection that confers the same expression of disdain as saying (contemptuously), "Rubbish!" or "Nonsense!"

The Word Detective has a nice post about this alliterative exclamation, noting:

“Pish posh” actually appears to have two sources. “Pish” by itself has been used as an interjection of impatience or contempt since the 16th century, and, like “pshaw” and “pah,” it arose as an imitation of the sound of disgusted surprise (“‘Pish!’ I growled. ‘Someone has fooled you,'” 1894). The “posh” part of “pish posh” is what linguists call “reduplication,” the repetition of a word with slight variation as a means of emphasis or elaboration (as in “hoity-toity”).

I gulped a little seeing the date 1894. Surely pish-posh was used before then?

Down the rabbit hole I go...

Pish-posh. Don't pay him any mind.
Our time will come.
Image by Oberholster Venita from Pixabay

Votes for women? Pish-posh, that's what I say.
Image by Jo-B from Pixabay 

I found the phrase pish! posh! and pshaw! in a novel from 1862 titled Spurs and Skirts by Allet (a pseudonym). From the title, I thought this might be an adventure set in the American West. However the book opens in Edinburgh, Scotland, so I guess not!

In any case, pish-posh has a nice ring to it, and I'm sure I'll find the proper place for it to reappear in my current endeavor.

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Catch a weasel asleep

This time of year, trying to hide presents from prying eyes and fingers is like trying to catch a weasel asleep. 
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Now there's a phrase you don't hear every day...
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... But according to Google's ngram search engine, such was not always the case:

The Dictionary of Americanisms, 2nd ed. enlarged, by John Russell Bartlett (published in 1859) has this to say about the phrase:

It is supposed that this little animal is never caught napping, for the obvious reason that he sleeps in his hole beyond the reach of man. The expression is applied to persons who are watchful and always on the alert, or who cannot be surprised; as, "You cannot deceive me, any sooner than you can catch a weasel asleep," or, "You can't catch a weasel asleep." The expressions are common.

They might have been common in the mid-19th century, but not so much now. So whether you are trying to wrap a gift on the sly or trying to sneak out early from work to do some last-minute shopping this coming week, I wish you luck in catching the weasel asleep!

Is that present for me??Awww, you shouldn't have!
Image by Trond Giæver Myhre from Pixabay

Blog Hop Part 4: Why?

Why do I write what I do?

That's the last question for the four-part blog hop (for previous questions and answers, just scroll back to the beginning of the week).

Now, to the answer.

I "fell into" writing mysteries set in the West because that's where my more recent (past couple generations) of family history resides.

Aside: Go back a couple more generations on my mother's mother's side, and there's the Hasbroucks of Newburgh, New York ... their house "lives on" in history as one of George Washington's headquarters during the Revolution: http://www.nysparks.com/historic-sites/17/details.aspx.... and ain't that appropriate to the 4th of July! I even have a faded photograph of the Hasbroucke House with my G'ma Elsie's handwritten explanation of the family connections on the back. (Tried to photograph it, but too much reflection, oh well.)

Hasbrouck House (George Washington's Headquarters). Happy July 4th!

Sidestep over to my father's father's side, and you quickly bang into the DuPonts... here's a snap of my Granddad Parker and my dear Uncle Walt from the DuPont archives: http://digital.hagley.org/cdm/singleitem/collection/p268001coll8/id/5936/rec/4).

I came to Leadville and found its history so fascinating I just never left.

Just like old photographs, the truths and stories of the past fade over time and eventually turn into dust. I'm doing my very small part to bring bits and pieces of the past to present awareness through fiction. And have fun at the same time!

Don't let them fade away...

Death and Taxes

Certainty? In this world, nothing is certain but death and taxes.
—Benjamin Franklin

In the modern mystery, death is usually a critical element, a certainty. If there isn't a body somewhere pretty early on in the story, most mystery readers get a little itchy and twitchy and wonder what's up. And, truthfully, I love exploring death (fictionally speaking). I can spend endless hours researching sneaky ways to kill people circa 1880 and thereabouts, and I love setting up and (ahem) executing the murder scene(s) in my books.

However, regarding the second half of Benjamin Franklin's observation, all I have to say is Bah!

I have a technical/scientific background, so you'd think that taxes would be a snap, right? It's only numbers. It's math. It's logic. For heaven's sake, we're talking basic arithmetic here—add, subtract, multiply, divide—not calculus or complex number theory. The financials of my writing/editing consultancy business (which includes my fiction efforts) should theoretically be neatly bound, gagged, and overdosed with Quicken and Excel. All those little numbers showing profit and loss, income and expenses, should be subdued and ready for delivery well before mid-April.

Unfortunately, my financial process is akin to my process for researching methods of death and destruction. Usually, when researching for fiction, I'm bouncing from book to book, website to website, landing on random facts, thinking "hmmm, that's interesting, and perhaps useful," stashing it away mentally (or on a random sticky note) before zipping off in another, tangential direction. In the financial realm, my approach is similarly random. Receipts are crammed willy-nilly into my wallet until the wallet is too full to close, whereupon the crumpled bits of paper are regurgitated into a paper bag (yes, that's what I said, a paper bag). Now, the wallet is free to feed again, and the process repeats. As for statements, consulting contracts, and so on, they alight on whatever surface is at hand upon my entering the house. There they linger, to become buried beneath equally important papers, until I can corral them into the all-consuming paper bag.

When the time comes to "deal with it," the paper bag is emptied onto the dining table, which cannot be used for dining until taxes are done.

In fiction writing, it's fun to toss motives, method, characters, location and era all into a big jumble, shake 'em up, and see what comes of it.

Unfortunately, the same process when applied to taxes does not yield a very satisfying result.

And that, dear Benjamin, is a certainty.

All the potential of the day . . .

Well, folks, the potential energy I started with in the early part of the day has long since been converted to kinetic energy. At this point in the evening, I haven't much energy left for words. Happens sometimes. Heck, happens often, actually.

In any case, I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes by physicist/engineer Werner von Braun:

Basic research is what I am doing when I don't know what I am doing.

So true, whether it's science or writing. A lot of wonderful "a-ha" moments occur during the thrashing around that one can call basic research/the creative process/etc.


Hmmmm. I like this quote. I sense there's much more to say about the subject (!... it has potential ...!).

I shall return to it when I have more energy.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with this lovely photograph of both potential and kinetic energy to contemplate.

(courtesy of travelblog.org)