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Language
changes a little from generation to generation by Delbert Trew
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Writing
this column was especially enjoyable as my computer spell-check bogged
down and blew a circuit. It was a long-sought, sweet revenge. The
question posed in today's column? Some believe a different language
was spoken in the old days? Maybe so, here are a few examples used
by the Trew clan.
My mother peered out a winder, worshed and wrenched her laundry, and
hated to pay taxes to the RAS. When our family made ready to go somewhere,
it called for getting all spiffed up and dobbing on Bay Rum and stinkum,
and greasing our hair down with Lucky Tiger. Boots required shining
with Shinola til a fly was a fool to crawl up 'em.
We poured swee'nin from a serp picher which was larruping good. Eating
watermelon was pure-dee pleasure, and coffee had to be saucered and
blowed before drinking. Food was not sour; it had a whang. Bob war
was attached to post with steeple driven in with war plars. Decisions
were made after studying onit fera spell looking for drawbacks which
could cause a wreck instead of hittin the jackpot. Whatchimacallets
abounded everywhere. Boring was described as teedjuss.
Structures sat catty-cornered, anny-godlin, or cata-wompus with the
world. If they were not level, they missed the bubble. Little was
designated by a smigin, a mite, or just a hair. Big was denoted by
right-smart or pull-lenty. Doing nothing was labeled pidlin and a
good day was called a hay-day. Slop-jar and thundermug need no interpretation.
Dad was always fixing to commence to start a project. Results were
judged as poorly, fair to meddling, or the whole shebang. Farmers
were clodhoppers. Toys were play-purties, and jewelry type charms
were doo-dads. Instead of being hurt you were boggered sum, skint
a little, and all stove-up usually caused by a broom-tail nag.
A nice looking lady was shore purty shiny. A plump person was bustin
out all over, and a shallow person was all glitter and no guts. Items
found hard to believe were labeled no sucha thing.
Plain OK was okey-dokey. And anything new was said to be new-fangled.
Is it any wonder that Yankees and other ferriners don't always savvy
our lingo? If you sniggered or got your jollies at the wording in
this column then all is hunky-dory, and sadly you just might be blood-kin
to the Trews.
© Delbert Trew
"It's All Trew"
- March
28, 2005 column |
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