Top o' the mornin' to ya, laddies and lasses. It's a Monday morning, so I'll be sleepwalking for the next couple of hours. It's times like these that I especially value readers like Sacky Christi who write in to ptklein@gmail.com with stories for me. This time, she wrote in with something near and dear to my heart: the creation of words.
She told me that her boss had been commenting lately on her work wardrobe and trying to get her to dress more professionally. The thought behind it is that if she looks more professional, more people will take her seriously. She says that she always dresses according to the dress code, and having worked for the same company as her for the better part of a year, I can attest to that. So, last week, she wore a big, button-up, untucked shirt and khakis. Her boss came by and told her how frumpy she looked. She shot back at him, saying that she was comfortable.
A guy in the cubicle next to her looked at them and said, "So, you're frumptable?" That's her new word: frumptable.
I like it! The only problem I have is with its inevitable shortening: will be be saying "frumptfy?" That's hard to say. I told Christi that next time her boss says anything like that, she should reply, "It's weird to hear you say that, because in the sexual harassment training I took, they told us refrain from commenting on a co-worker's wardrobe at all to play it safe, especially if we supervise that person. Weird." That should do the trick.
I've written a little before about making up words. If you recall, I use "5ever" with great frequency to refer to things taking "longer than 4ever." Just last night, in fact, I said that my brain was so big when I was born that the doctor had to use 5ceps. Good times, good times. I have a story about the creation of another word that occasionally comes up in my friends' conversations. Years ago, two students who worked for me were having a conversation. One said that she wanted to stop herself from using "retarded" as a synonym for "stupid." The other made a great suggestions: "Why don't you switch to 'ridiculous' instead? That way, you have one syllable to catch yourself if you start to say 'retarded' instead." We all agreed that was a smart way for her to change that habit.
I told my friend Dave the story, and he replied, "Why doesn't she just use 'retardiculous' so she has two syllables to catch herself?" Unfortunately, that stuck and sometimes comes up. We know it's not politically correct and therefore watch the usage, but it's officially in my vocabulary. I've been using "ridunkulous" or the shortened "ridunk" instead as often as possible, but an occasional "retardiculous" can really emphasize a point.
I've always thought it would be cool to coin a phrase that got accepted into the general vocabulary. During my sophomore year of college, a co-worker of mine said that she heard about a Linguistics professor who was starting a movement of using "tart" as "cool," and tracking its usage nationwide. I didn't even try on that one because I couldn't buy into the word.
So I thought of starting one myself instead. There was a Sloan song I really liked that used "cannon" as "cool." I tried that out a couple of times, but it didn't feel right either. It worked on its own in response to something cool, but it never sounded right as an adjective inside a sentence. "Check out my new ride." "Cannon!" I was alright with that, but not, "That's a really cannon car."
Years later, I put more thought into it and had better results. It was my year in Sac-town, and I did two things to help my chances. First, I teamed up with someone who was hip and could get followers. Second, we really thought about the word and what we wanted it to be. I suggested that it needed to have a negative connotation, since "bad" and "the shit" worked fine. We went through many words for a couple of days, without anything seeming right. "I don't know," I said, "it's tough." We both looked up at each other. "Tough!"
We had to be delicate about it, because no one wants to be told that something is cool, it has to evolve naturally. So, we'd be talking, and if someone was nearby, she'd say, "Aw man, that's tough!" Occasionally, she'd even say that something was "hecka tough," which actually makes sense to those Sackies. Being cool, she could see people's initial confusion turn to acceptance, and in not long, she even heard someone else use the term.
She told me that her boss had been commenting lately on her work wardrobe and trying to get her to dress more professionally. The thought behind it is that if she looks more professional, more people will take her seriously. She says that she always dresses according to the dress code, and having worked for the same company as her for the better part of a year, I can attest to that. So, last week, she wore a big, button-up, untucked shirt and khakis. Her boss came by and told her how frumpy she looked. She shot back at him, saying that she was comfortable.
A guy in the cubicle next to her looked at them and said, "So, you're frumptable?" That's her new word: frumptable.
I like it! The only problem I have is with its inevitable shortening: will be be saying "frumptfy?" That's hard to say. I told Christi that next time her boss says anything like that, she should reply, "It's weird to hear you say that, because in the sexual harassment training I took, they told us refrain from commenting on a co-worker's wardrobe at all to play it safe, especially if we supervise that person. Weird." That should do the trick.
I've written a little before about making up words. If you recall, I use "5ever" with great frequency to refer to things taking "longer than 4ever." Just last night, in fact, I said that my brain was so big when I was born that the doctor had to use 5ceps. Good times, good times. I have a story about the creation of another word that occasionally comes up in my friends' conversations. Years ago, two students who worked for me were having a conversation. One said that she wanted to stop herself from using "retarded" as a synonym for "stupid." The other made a great suggestions: "Why don't you switch to 'ridiculous' instead? That way, you have one syllable to catch yourself if you start to say 'retarded' instead." We all agreed that was a smart way for her to change that habit.
I told my friend Dave the story, and he replied, "Why doesn't she just use 'retardiculous' so she has two syllables to catch herself?" Unfortunately, that stuck and sometimes comes up. We know it's not politically correct and therefore watch the usage, but it's officially in my vocabulary. I've been using "ridunkulous" or the shortened "ridunk" instead as often as possible, but an occasional "retardiculous" can really emphasize a point.
I've always thought it would be cool to coin a phrase that got accepted into the general vocabulary. During my sophomore year of college, a co-worker of mine said that she heard about a Linguistics professor who was starting a movement of using "tart" as "cool," and tracking its usage nationwide. I didn't even try on that one because I couldn't buy into the word.
So I thought of starting one myself instead. There was a Sloan song I really liked that used "cannon" as "cool." I tried that out a couple of times, but it didn't feel right either. It worked on its own in response to something cool, but it never sounded right as an adjective inside a sentence. "Check out my new ride." "Cannon!" I was alright with that, but not, "That's a really cannon car."
Years later, I put more thought into it and had better results. It was my year in Sac-town, and I did two things to help my chances. First, I teamed up with someone who was hip and could get followers. Second, we really thought about the word and what we wanted it to be. I suggested that it needed to have a negative connotation, since "bad" and "the shit" worked fine. We went through many words for a couple of days, without anything seeming right. "I don't know," I said, "it's tough." We both looked up at each other. "Tough!"
We had to be delicate about it, because no one wants to be told that something is cool, it has to evolve naturally. So, we'd be talking, and if someone was nearby, she'd say, "Aw man, that's tough!" Occasionally, she'd even say that something was "hecka tough," which actually makes sense to those Sackies. Being cool, she could see people's initial confusion turn to acceptance, and in not long, she even heard someone else use the term.
That was shortly before I moved back down to L.A., so I don't know if that continued at all, but it was very neat to see how we could affect vocabulary. You know what though? Today is Shakespeare's birthday, so in honor of one of the greatest wordsmiths of all time, I'm picking that one up again. Maybe all of us should start using it. Hmmm. Seriously, how tough would that be see it on tv or something? We could all sit back in our frumptfy outfits and say, "We did that." Someday, gentle readers, someday.
Ok, that's it for me. The sleepwalking isn't wearing off, so I must turn to my old friend, More Coffee. Have a good Monday, everyone. Remember, ptklein@gmail.com is only a click away for any thoughts, questions, or stories.
3 comments:
I went over to urbandictionary.com to see if your definition of "tough" had caught on.
And it was there.
But it was posted by "Your Mom" in 2002.
Laynie?
Huh?
It was a bad joke.
Since the posting was by somone with the alias "Your Mom," I made the unsupported claim that it must have been posted by you, being that you are Peter's mom.
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