Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Heave-ho!

 I don't know about you, but I'm ready to give April the old heave-ho. (I can almost hear the splash as I toss the month overboard.) Of course, I  mean heave-ho as in: Dismissed! Ejected! Get outta here!

However....

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Merriam-Webster Online says this particular usage/definition only dates to 1947. Which seems far too recent to me. Looking around I see that Idiom Origins states that heave-ho in the sense of being ejected or dismissed first appeared in the late 19th century (that's more like it!). The original expression is a nautical one, dating from the 14th century. Working together, sailors would holler Heave-ho! while pulling up anchors, hauling on sails and ropes, and so on.

Definitely delivering the old heave-ho here. 
By State Library of Queensland, Australia - https://www.flickr.com/photos/statelibraryqueensland/6167339023/, No restrictions, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53538655

It's fascinating to me that the single expression can mean either "toss it out" or "bring it in," depending on the context and the timeframe. I guess no one was given the old heave-ho out the saloon door in the 1860s, for example. (Hmmm. How about in the 1880s?) I decided to search a bit more. The Online Etymology Dictionary notes that the verb heave as in "to throw" is from the 1590s, and the nautical meaning of "haul or pull in any direction" is from 1620s. But, there's more!

Intransitive use from early 14c. as "be raised or forced up;" 1610s as "rise and fall with alternate motion." Sense of "retch, make an effort to vomit" is first attested c. 1600. ... Nautical heave-ho was a chant in lifting. 

Oooof. I'm getting a little seasick from all the to-ing and fro-ing. As for heave-ho in the sense of dismissal, OED also points to mid-1900s. (Oh dear. Really??)

Let's no dwell on any possible idiomatic oopses I might have made in one or another of my books and focus instead on this rather impressive acapella version of the song "Hoist the Colours" from the movie Pirates of the Caribbean. Listen closely, and you'll hear heave-ho in the chorus.

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Fish or cut bait (by DMcC)

 Hello all! I've enlisted some occasional help with Slang-o-rama from the euphonious DMcC (aka Devyn McConachie)—so look for entries such as this one to pop up from time to time! Now, a bit about our assistant slang-o-rama-ist:

Devyn McConachie is a designer-editor-cartoonist, currently lurking about Portland, Oregon. Were it not for her wobbly landlubber legs and love of indoor-living, she would absolutely have taken up a career as a sea-pirate. Landlocked as she is, she instead fills her days with graphic design, animation, illustration, and copy editing.

For more info and to view her visual portfolio, visit this here link. She also has an Etsy shop (arts, hats, and cards) right here. 

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The idiom fish or cut bait actually has a tale of two meanings, depending on how “cut bait” is interpreted. Wikipedia provides a solid explanation for the more literal interpretation:

(1) The expression explores the merits of two options: "Fish", which refers to the act of fishing; or "cut bait", which refers to cutting up pieces of bait into small, usable portions.

[...] The original version of the expression derives from the fishing industry, in which fishermen must literally decide who is to fish, and who is to cut the bait used for fishing. Both the task of fishing, and that of cutting the bait, were considered equally important to the goal of catching fish.

Failure to contribute is not one of the offered alternatives, although "go ashore" and "go overboard" are sometimes offered as clarifying alternatives.

The Cambridge dictionary describes the second, figurative definition, now more widely used:

(2) Fish or cut bait: used to tell someone to take action or to stop saying that they will.

Fans of American idioms may recall similar phrases, such as “put up or shut up,” or the expletive-laden directive ending in “get off the pot.” For a vivid example, imagine:

A lone fisher sits in his boat, casting for fish. Perhaps his name is Santiago, and he’s had exceptionally poor luck. But for the first time in 85 days, at last, his line goes taught: a massive marlin took the bait—and then took old Santiago and his boat with it. Santiago has two choices, then: he can fish (hold on in hopes of catching the marlin), or he can cut bait (cut the line and lose the fish, but save his energy for another catch).

Or you may not have to imagine at all, since Russian artist Aleksandr Petrov created a beautifully animated rendition of this Ernest Hemingway classic, The Old Man and the Sea.  

One of the earliest instances of this  “commit or quit” version of fish or cut bait appears in an 1853 legal setting. After a Wisconsin judge ruled on a land holdings case, defendant Caleb Cushing, highly displeased with the result, threatened to have the judge impeached. The judge reportedly responded: “Cushing has commenced a suit in the United States Court. [...] Cushing must either fish or cut bait.” Fish or cut bait lives on in another legal setting: a “fish or cut bait clause” in some retail rental agreements. If a tenant breaks a co-tenancy rule of the lease, which allowed them to pay lower rent, they must either pay rent in full (fish) or end the lease (cut bait). I found the usage here a little murkier to parse.

The face I make when I have to read legal documents.
By Edgar Ravenswood Waite - Waite, Edgar R. (1921) Illustrated Catalogue of the Fishes of South Australia, Adelaide, Australia: G. Hassell & Son, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=42580865

If you're interested in diving deeper, you can find other takes on the history of  the phrase fish or cut bait, at ReadEx Blog, Wordorigins.org, and in this post by Jan Freeman in Boston.com's "The Word" blog. 

Finally, if you’ve enjoyed this semi-literary meanderings, you might want to check out the Twitter account @MobyDickatSea, which quotes random lines from Moby Dick several times a day. I’ve found it adds a delightfully surreal twist to my timeline. And now, it is time for me to cut the line on chasing down this fishy phrase and sail off in search of another Slang-o-Rama tidbit to hang on my hook...

 

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Bobadil

Now here's one for the books: bobadil.

Any guesses as to what this word means?
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According to Merriam-Webster, calling someone a bobadil is not a compliment. The word means braggart, especially a "cowardly braggart." The Online Etymological Dictionary points to the esteemable Ben Johnson as the originator of this word, naming a boastful character Bobadil in "Every Man in his Humour" (1598). So yes, it has been around for quite a while. 

Some words never go out of style...

There he goes again...
The Fool Who Sells Wisdom by Carle (Antoine Charles Horace) Vernet, 1818

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Saber-rattling

In these fraught times it seems there is a lot of saber-rattling going on. Which, of course, has me wondering about the when and why of this phrase. According to Merriam-Webster saber-rattling is "overtly and often exaggeratedly threatening actions or statements (such as verbal threats or ostentatious displays of military power) that are meant to intimidate an enemy by suggesting possible use of force."

Sabers have been around for a loooong time, so you might think this term dates back to when folks actually used these sharp-edged weapons to cause very real damage to their enemies.

At least, that's what I thought.
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The Online Etymology Dictionary notes that "saber-rattling 'militarism' is attested from 1922." An M-W post, The History of 'Saber-rattling,' is a little fuzzy on the first use as well as the origin of the phrase:

Some think that it comes from the practice of 18th-century Hungarian cavalry units had of brandishing their sabers at opponents prior to charging. Others have said that it comes from the habit that military officers had in the early 20th century of ominously shaking their scabbard when issuing orders to subordinates. Our records indicate that the two words began seeing use in fixed fashion around 1880, making it unlikely that it was directly related to either of the causes given above.

Whether 19th century or 20th century, it's clearly a term that still is relevant to today...

Those sabers look pretty serious to me.
Image by Gerhard Gellinger from Pixabay

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: Draw through the water with a cat (April Fools'!)

How fortuitous that Slang-o-rama falls on April 1st, a good day to draw a fellow through a pond with a cat.

Say what????
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I stumbled upon this bizarre bit of slang while perusing Slang and Its Analogues, Past and Present (Vol. 2) by John Stephen Farmer, from 1891. According to the dictionary, to draw through the water with a cat or alternatively, to whip the cat (yikes!) means to indulge in practical jokes.

Apparently this phrase dates from about 1785. Its origin is explained as follows:

A trick often practised on ignorant country fellows, vain of their strength; by laying a wager with them, that they may be PULLED THROUGH A POND BY A CAT; the bet being made, a rope is fixed round the waist of the party to be catted, and the end thrown across the pond, to which the cat is also fastened by a pack-thread, and three or four sturdy fellows are appointed to lead and whip the cat; these, on a signal given, seize the end of the cord, and pretending to whip the cat, haul the astonished booby through the water.

 Of course, I—an appreciator and admirer of four-footed household felines—had to quickly check what a "pack-thread" was. It is simply thick thread for sewing or tying up packages. Thus, it sounds like no harm befalls the cat involved and the only injury is to the victim's dignity.

Wishing you all a safe and healthy April Fool's Day, and if you have pet cats, don't let them catch you reading this... 

From the Diva Miss Mia, who keeps careful watch over me as I type this post:
"Whip the cat? Don't even think about it."

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Stultiloquy

Let's go archaic this week and bring back a word that may actually be relevant to today's world: Stultiloquy

What, you are probably asking, does stultiloquy mean? Well, I could go on and on and on at great and tedious length...

Which is, more or less, the point.
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Webster's 1913 dictionary defines the noun stultiloquy as foolish talk; silly discourse; babbling. 

But O! Let us not stop here, for there's much more to learn about this wonderful word.

Dr. Goodword from Alphadictionary.com has an entry on stultiloquy that is full of explanations and examples (and even a little "Hear it!" button so you can hear how it is pronounced). He notes that the word is based on an obsolete adjective stulty, which means "foolish, stupid." Stulty is also the basis for the word stultify, which is defined as "to make stupid, render useless." Marching right alongside stultiloquy is the equally polysyllabic adjective stultiloquent and an alternative noun, stultiloquence.

World Wide Words notes that stultiloquy is from the Latin stultiloquus, speaking foolishly, which come in turn from stultus, foolish, plus loquus, that speaks.

Both Alphadictionary.com and World Wide Words make snarky comments about how this is the perfect word to apply to certain, unnamed political figures.

It does seem a pity it has fallen out of use. In a quest to discover when it was popular, I turned to Google's Ngram. Here are the results:

Stultiloquy appears to have peaked sometime around 1820, and was not very popular even then. I think this would be a most excellent word to reintroduce into the English language, don't you agree?

This pretty much says it all for stultiloquy.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: An arm and a leg

Hello all! I hope you are all staying healthy in these uncertain times. And what kind of a crazy place is this where toilet paper (of all things) has become a commodity as scarce as hen's teeth, and when one does find a pack of the precious paper, it costs an arm and a leg??

And when did things that fetch a pretty penny come to demand various appendages in payment in addition to the coin of the realm?
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The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer says that the idiom arm and a leg became widely known from the 1930s on, and probably had its origins in the 19th-century American criminal slang phrase if it takes a leg (that is, even at the cost of a leg), to express desperate determination.

Phrase Finder offers a more detailed theory:

'It cost and arm and a leg' is one of those phrases that rank high in the 'I know where that comes from' stories told at the local pub.... It is in fact an American phrase, coined sometime after WWII. The earliest citation I can find is from The Long Beach Independent, December 1949:

Food Editor Beulah Karney has more than 10 ideas for the homemaker who wants to say "Merry Christmas" and not have it cost her an arm and a leg.

'Arm' and 'leg' are used as examples of items that no one would consider selling other than at an enormous price. It is a grim reality that, around that time, there were many US newspaper reports of servicemen who had lost an arm and a leg in the recent war. It is possible that the phrase originated in reference to the high cost paid by those who suffered such amputations. A more likely explanation is that the expression derived from two earlier phrases: 'I would give my right arm for...' and '[Even] if it takes a leg', which were both coined in the 19th century. The earliest example that I can find of the former in print is from an 1849 edition of Sharpe's London Journal:

He felt as if he could gladly give his right arm to be cut off if it would make him, at once, old enough to go and earn money instead of Lizzy.

The second phrase is American and an early example of it is given in this heartfelt story from the Iowa newspaper the Burlington Daily Hawk-Eye, July 1875:

A man who owes five years subscription to the Gazette is trying to stop his paper without paying up, and the editor is going to grab that back pay if it takes a leg.

Interesting!

In any case, I hope that, if you are on the search for toilet paper, buying such does not involve losing limbs or handing over great amounts of capital.

Stay healthy, stay sane, and share with others less fortunate and/or more desperate, if you can.

It does seem a bit like this lately...
Image by bbasilico0 from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Close, but no cigar

Here's a phrase that one hears on occasion, particularly when someone has just missed the mark:

Close, but no cigar.

It sounds pretty old-timey, right? Maybe even used in the 19th century? After all, cigars have been around for a looooong time.
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As it turns out, close, but no cigar is a relative newcomer, and of U.S. origin to boot... At least, according to The Phrase Finder, which says:

The phrase, and its variant 'nice try, but no cigar', are of US origin and date from the mid-20th century. Fairground stalls gave out cigars as prizes, and this is the most likely source, although there's no definitive evidence to prove that.

It is very much an American expression and is little used elsewhere in the English-speaking world. The first recorded use of 'close but no cigar' in print is in Sayre and Twist's publishing of the script of the 1935 film version of Annie Oakley: "Close, Colonel, but no cigar!"

Mid-20th century??

I don't believe it. It's got to be older than that.

The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms places it in early 1900s, which pushes it back some. After some digging, I found the phrase in a 1929 issue of Princeton Alumni Weekly:

And another mention in a 1925 issue of The New Yorker:

This post by Barry Popik (a contributor to the Oxford English Dictionary, Dictionary of American Regional English, Historical Dictionary of American Slang, Yale Book of Quotations and Dictionary of Modern Proverbs) has some fascinating detail about the origin of the phrase. Popik notes that carnival games featuring cigars for prizes dates to late 1800s, early 1900s. Still, even assuming the phrase was in use in speech before it finally appeared in print, I'd better not have the words fly out of my 1880s characters' mouths (or intrude on their thoughts). That would DEFINITELY be a "no cigar" situation.

Good try, lads, but I don't think she's interested. (Close, but no cigar.)
By Peter Baumgartner - Palais Dorotheum, Wien, 12. April 2011, lot 67, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16052963

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Chin music

As promised, here's another musical idiom to herald the upcoming release of the seventh book in my Silver Rush series, MORTAL MUSIC:

 Chin music.

I'll confess, this is a new one to me. Not that it's "new." In fact, it apparently first appeared almost two centuries ago...

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According to American Slang, Second Edition, edited by Robert L. Chapman Ph.D., chin music has several definitions, depending on the context. It can mean:

1. talk, especially inconsequential chatter or chitchat (first appeared in 1830s)
2. various kinds of raucous shouting at a baseball game, from the crowd, from the players to each other, from the players or manager to the umpires, etc. (by 1880s)
3. a pitched ball that passes close to the batter's face; a beanball (by the 1980s)

I checked this one on Google's ngram, and sure enough, there it is, going waaaay back.



I dug a little deeper and found several 19th-century examples, including the one below from Potter's American Monthly: An Illustrated Magazine of History, Literature, Science and Art, Volumes 10–11 (1878).

Chin music would fit right in with my Silver Rush series. So is this idiom new to you as well? Or is it just me?

A chin-music ensemble? (Cue the accompanist, entering the room.)
By Eugene de Blaas - Art Renewal Center, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7753932

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Mafficking

How was your New Year's Eve? Did you go mafficking about when the clock struck midnight? I'll wager that many folks did (although I am long past that point and was more intent on sleeping the night through).

Now, let us dive into the mysterious word: mafficking...
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Mafficking is a most excellent bit of Victorian slang that, according to the Mental Floss blog post "56 Delightful Victorian Slang Terms You Should Be Using," means getting rowdy in the streets.

The origin of this word is fascinating as well. According to Merriam Webster:

 Maffick is an alteration of Mafeking Night, the British celebration of the lifting of the siege of a British military outpost during the South African War at the town of Mafikeng (also spelled Mafeking) on May 17, 1900. The South African War was fought between the British and the Afrikaners, who were Dutch and Huguenot settlers originally called Boers, over the right to govern frontier territories. Though the war did not end until 1902, the lifting of the siege of Mafikeng was a significant victory for the British because they held out against a larger Afrikaner force for 217 days until reinforcements could arrive. The rejoicing in British cities on news of the rescue produced maffick, a word that was popular for a while, especially in journalistic writing, but is now relatively uncommon.

I think it's a word that should be revived, don't you? 

Here's to a new year, a new decade, and a renewal of mafficking!

Here's to more mafficking in 2020!
Image by ktphotography from Pixabay

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

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Cold turkey

In honor of Thanksgiving, I shall continue the grand tradition (all of a year old) of exploring idioms involving turkeys. In 2018, we looked at talking turkey. This year, let's go cold turkey.

I happen to like cold turkey. I could definitely go for some right now, especially if it was accompanied by mayonnaise, leftover cranberry sauce, and plenty of salt and pepper, and slammed between two pieces of sourdough toast.

Oh, wait, not THAT cold turkey. We're talking about...
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...cold turkey as defined by the UK-centric The Phrase Finder:

The sudden and complete withdrawal from an addictive substance and/or the physiological effects of such a withdrawal. Also, predominantly in the U.S.A., plain speaking.  

Phrase Finder goes on to say:

The turkey looms large in the American psyche because of its link to early European colonists and is, as even Limies like me know, the centrepiece of the annual Thanksgiving meal. In the USA, and as far as I can tell nowhere else, 'plain speaking/getting down to business' is called 'talking cold turkey', which has been shortened in present day speech to just 'talking turkey'.

See last year's slang-o-rama for more details on talking turkey. Phrase Finder notes that talking cold turkey dates from about 1914 (so no one better be talking turkey, cold or otherwise, in the Silver Rush series), and going cold turkey turns up in the early 1920s:

'Talking cold turkey' meant no nonsense talking and its partner expression 'going cold turkey' meant no nonsense doing. To 'go cold turkey' was to get straight to the scene of the action - in at the deep end.

What the turkey had to do with plain speaking, we just don't know. There are a few suggestions but none come supported with any evidence and are no more likely to explain the source of the expression any better than ones you could imagine for yourself - better just to admit, we just don't know.

The Online Etymological Dictionary offers its own theory on the origins, pushing the initial date back to 1910:

"without preparation," 1910; narrower sense of "withdrawal from an addictive substance" (originally heroin) first recorded 1921. Cold turkey is a food that requires little preparation, so "to quit like cold turkey" is to do so suddenly and without preparation. To do something cold "without preparation" is attested from 1896.

 Wikipedia has an extensive entry, suggesting the catalyst for cold turkey appears in an 1877 story featured in the UK satirical magazine, Judy. You can read more about that theory here. Of course, this is Wikipedia, so take what you read with a grain of salt.

And some pepper.

And maybe add some cranberry sauce, while you're at it.

Happy Thanksgiving to you (with or without turkey)!

 This is, without a doubt, cold turkey. (Look at those chilly little feet in the snow. Brrr.)
Image by Robert Jones from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: In cahoots

The phrase in cahoots has a slightly "Old West" ring to me, although that might simply be due to an overabundance of old-time black-and-white TV Western-watching from the early 1960s. That aside, I have no idea what a single cahoot is. Do you?
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According to Merriam-Webster, the definition of cahoot is "partnership, league." However I could probably be forgiven for wondering if the singular form even exists:

Cahoot is used almost exclusively in the phrase "in cahoots," which means "in an alliance or partnership." In most contexts, it describes the conspiring activity of people up to no good. (There's also the rare idiom go cahoots, meaning "to enter into a partnership," as in "they went cahoots on a new restaurant.") "Cahoot" may derive from French cahute, meaning "cabin" or "hut," suggesting the notion of two or more people hidden away working together in secret. "Cahute" is believed to have been formed through the combination of two other words for cabins and huts, "cabane" and "hutte."

M-W claims the term first appeared in 1827. The Online Etymological Dictionary begs to differ in time frame, putting first use at 1829 (well, let's not quibble over a couple of years) and also suggests a different origin, to wit:

... U.S. sources [Bartlett] credit it to French cohorte (see cohort), which is said to have had a sense of "companions, confederates."

If you wish to dig a little deeper into the mysterious origin of cahoot(s), with early examples of use, I recommend checking out this post of The Grammarphobia Blog.

In any case, the phrase in cahoots certainly smacks of skulduggery to me and... hmmmm... I do believe I just stumbled upon next week's slang-o-rama topic...

Is this mob of meerkats in cahoots? Maybe.
Image by Rhulk G. from Pixabay

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Playing hooky

Well, I took last week away from almost everything to go to Iceland and chase around after the Northern Lights. I had a marvelous time, yet still felt a little guilty, as if I was playing hooky from my endless lists of to-dos and responsibilities. But abandon Slang-o-rama? Never!

So, let's take a closer look at playing hooky...
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... However, first, a few photos from my trip...

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Now that I've shared some of the lovely scenery from this fascinating land of ice and snow, let's return to play hooky, which, according to Dictionary.com, means "be absent from school or some other obligation without permission."

The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer notes that the term play hooky dates from the mid-1800s and adds

In this term, the noun hooky may have come from the phrase hook it, meaning "escape."

I shall close with a little Led Zepplin, because.... (see link re: land of ice and snow, above).

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Heebie-jeebies

I'm on a roll, so we'll continue with our spooky slang-o-rama explorations for October. If this time of year gives you the heebie-jeebies, that is, leaves you with a feeling of anxiety, apprehension or illness, well....

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... I am here to help you out. At least, etymologically speaking.

The Phrase Finder has a nice entry on the term, noting:

The sound of this term seems to hark back to earlier rhyming phrases, like hocus-pocus and mumbo-jumbo, with a touch of the jitters thrown in. The meaning is more like the British term - the screaming habdabs.

Heebie and jeebie don't mean anything as independent words and heebie jeebies was coined at a time and place when there was a spate of new nonsense rhyming pairs, called rhyming reduplications, - the bee's knees, etc., that is, 1920s USA.

The term is widely attributed to William Morgan "Billy" de Beck. The first citation of it in print is certainly in a 1923 cartoon of his, in the 26th October edition of the New York American: "You dumb ox - why don't you get that stupid look offa your pan - you gimme the heeby jeebys!"

World Wide Words also credits de Beck with its creation, citing the same 1923 appearance. The Word Detective agrees. Dictionary.com dates it even earlier: 1905–10... but I can't find any use from that timeframe (at least through Google's ngram). I did find it in a 1911 book—The Story of Carol by Edmondstoune Duncan (what a name, right? Perfect for a fictional character!). You can view the passage here.

I'd love to find an earlier appearance of this term, so if anyone spots one, let me know!

Feeling anxious? Got the heebie-jeebies? If so, you've got lots of company!

The Scream By Edvard Munch

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: In a dither, a flutter, a tizzy

With nights getting longer and Halloween approaching, here around the homestead we're all in a dither over getting our decorations up and preparing for the holiday season (but really, do the stores have to throw up Christmas displays in early October??).

Perhaps you, too, are in a dither, or maybe in a flutter or even a tizzy.... all of which pretty much boil down to "a state of tremulous agitation." Now, if you had to guess, would you think dither, flutter or tizzy is the oldest version? And which would you guess is the most recent?
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I guessed, and...
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...I was wrong! Which is why it's always good to check these phrases out and not (ahem) assume.

According to The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer, in a flutter dates from the mid-1700s, whereas the noun dither is from the early 1800s and goes back to the Middle English verb didderen (to tremble). In a tizzy, however, is relatively new, dating from about 1930 and is of "uncertain origin."

The mystery surrounding tizzy sent me searching for more, and I turned up this interesting tidbit about the word on World Wide Words:

....Tizzie Lish [was] a character played by Bill Comstock on the radio show Al Pearce and His Gang. The show began on KFRC in San Francisco in 1929 but moved to NBC in 1933, where it continued until 1947. Tizzie was usually all of a dither and she would proceed to dictate very bad recipes, insisting that listeners find a pencil and paper to write them down. ... Our word tizzy for being in a state of nervous excitement, agitation or worry is recorded first in the US in 1935 and almost certainly comes from — or at least was popularised by — the radio character. 

I actually found a 1940s 30-minute episode of Al Pearce and His Gang on YouTube, right here. There is also an audio recording of a  five-minute audition of Tizzie Lish, courtesy of rand’s esoteric otr (with otr being short for "old time radio"). If you want a little more about Tizzie Lish, here is an entire post about the character and Bill Comstock, the radio actor who played her.

Finally, in a strange sort of roundabout connection to the world of radio, the word dither turns out to have a very specific definition in the technical world of audio and video. According to Wikipedia:

Dither is an intentionally applied form of noise used to randomize quantization error, preventing large-scale patterns such as color banding in images. Dither is routinely used in processing of both digital audio and video data, and is often one of the last stages of mastering audio to a CD.

I imagine you are probably in a dither (in the non-audio sense) after all this nattering, so I'll let you go!

A dithering David (at least, in the technical sense)
By David by Michelangelo; dithered by User:Gerbrant using own software - cropped from Image:Dithering algorithms.png, Public Domain, Link

Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Blatherskite

Now here's a wonderful word for you: Blatherskite.

Can you guess what it means?

No peeking at an online dictionary! You have to guess first...
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Personally, I wondered if it had something to do with blather, as when someone is blabbing on and on and not making much sense.

Well, I was on the right track, apparently. According to Merriam Webster,  the noun blatherskite means either (1) a person who blathers a lot or (2) nonsense, blather, and it dates from the mid-1600s... Now that's a word with a history!

World Wide Words delved into its origins and subsequent popularity in the U.S.:

Both halves of the word seem to be from Old Norse. Blether is a Scots word meaning loquacious claptrap, which comes from Old Norse blathra, to talk nonsense; it exists in various forms now, such as blather or blither (if you call someone a blithering idiot, as people in Britain often did in my youth, you’re using the same word, though most of the meaning had by then been leached out of it). Skate (skite, as Australians and New Zealanders will know it) is more problematic, but is the Scots word for a person held in contempt because of his boasting, which may derive from an Old Norse word meaning to shoot (and, if true, is probably the origin of the American skeet, as in skeet shooting, so that phrase actually means “shoot shooting”).

WWW goes on to explain that blatherskite first appeared in Maggie Lauder, a Scots ballad circa 1643. The ballad was very popular with the American side in the War of Independence. Alas, it doesn't pop up in daily conversation at the present, although it does seem appropriate for the times...

 

I sense blatherskite is in the air, everywhere...
Image by Prawny from Pixabay