Empha-sighs

Hello everyone, and it's great to see you here once more. In truth, I can't see you, but I feel your presence. No, that's not really true either. Disirregardless, it's great to have you here at UOPTA. No, that doesn't stand for, "Usually Obama Pitches Truly Accurately," but I hope that's the case after seeing that weak toss of his before the All-Star Game. Oh sure, he got it all the way to the player instead of bouncing it (as many have unfortunately done), but as the leader of the free world, I'd like to see him really zing one in there. Does this actually matter at all? Of course not, but for many people in this fine country, discussing the President's throwing motion is the most political discourse they'll have all year, so let them enjoy this. To reiterate my point from before, that previous statement is not what UOPTA stands for. This UOPTA, my homepeople, is where I write out some of my thoughts and stories on a weekly basis. I hope you enjoy today's installment. (Thanks to my favorite brother for supplying that UOPTA. Send your own in to ptklein@gmail.com and be cool like him.)

Here's a random thought that the first paragraph caused me to think: When we say the phrase "All-Star Game" or "All-Star Team," why do we put the emphasis on the word "All?" When we break it down, we're discussing a team made up solely of star players, right? Therefore, it should be the "all STAR team" instead of the "ALL star team," right? Let's take some very different examples of the same concept to prove my point. If there were an animal sanctuary comprised of only giraffes, would anyone call it an "ALL giraffe sanctuary?" I doubt it, because that wouldn't make any sense. Similarly, what would you call an aisle in the supermarket that only sells potato chips? (If you answered either "Crunchy, "Unhealthy," or "Heaven," you're not exactly playing along, now are you?") So why do we switch it up for the "All-Star Game?"

I have a theory, actually. It goes a little like this: When the first team of all star players was created, it was easy to call it the "all STAR team." But how would they designate the players who were honored by making that team? They were already stars, which is why they were named to the team in the first place. So someone started calling the individuals "All-Stars" for some reason that doesn't really make the most logical sense. I argue that it was that designation of the single player that changed the correct emphasis of the term into the way we say it today. Ideally, a chosen player would've been called a "Star Team Member," "League Star," or something shorter that makes sense. To name a single player after the compound adjective modifying the game in which he'll play just doesn't seem like it was thought through appropriately to me.

I just thought of something similar. In our everyday lives together, my lovely wife emphasizes a few things differently than I do. And you know what? I think she's absolutely right. Crap. I just thought about the two examples that I was going to write down here, and I think I've been saying the equivalent of "ALL star team" my entire life. What can I say, girls mature faster than guys.

First, I might say that I put my wallet down on the "kitchen TABLE." Meanwhile, she'll call it the "KITCHEN table." I used to make fun of this, but now I shall dive in and see why I'm wrong. My way, emphasizing "table," is essentially differentiating that piece of furniture from others in that room of the house. That is, the "kitchen TABLE" is emphasized so as to not confuse the listener with the "kitchen COUNTER" or "kitchen FLOOR." In her version, she's distinguishing that piece of furniture from others of the same kind. The "KITCHEN table" is different than the "COFFEE table" or any other table in the house. Both ways make sense, right? Then why do I think I'm wrong? When I say tell my lovely wife that the mail is on the "kitchen TABLE," my intent is to specify where in the house. That is, I don't think she'll accidentally think I put the mail on the kitchen floor. The intent behind my phrase coincides with the emphasis she uses. Therefore, I think I'm wrong in this regard. (Oddly enough, this table that we're both talking about in theory isn't actually found in our kitchen but rather in the closest thing we have to a dining area. Go figure. And as it turns out, I rarely drink coffee at the coffee table, but rather at the kitchen table that isn't actually in the kitchen. I hope that clears things up.)

The other example of things my lovely wife and I emphasize differently comes to us from the dessert tray: chocolate cake. Now tell me, friends, how did you just say that in your head? Personally, I say, "I'd like a piece of chocolate CAKE." My lovely wife, on the other hand, would ask for "CHOCOLATE cake." (These capitalizations are starting to look like we're screaming, but I hope the point of emphasis is still getting across.) I've commented on this difference to her in the past, and after further review, I think I'm wrong here too. Let's break it down again. If someone comes to me with a tray of chocolate mousse, chocolate ice cream, and chocolate cake, I think I'd have every right to emphasize "cake," as that's the distinguishing factor. If there are slices of cake in a variety of flavors though, saying "CHOCOLATE cake" is the right choice. So which way is correct when the distinctions aren't so clearly drawn? Read this sentence to yourself without thinking about it: "There's a piece of chocolate cake on the floor." Which way did you go? Do you think that's right or not? One thing's for certain, I am no longer making any sense to myself and must stop this nonsense at once.

Ok fine, one last thing: Chinese chicken salad. Do you emphasize "chicken" like I do? If so, I think we're wrong. We're not differentiating it from other "Chinese salads," are we? Instead, it's different from other kinds of "chicken salad," so we should be saying, "CHINESE chicken salad." That would also work if the chickens used for the salad came from China, by the way.

Before we get to the Car Watch, I wanted to follow up on something from a few weeks ago. In my post entitled "Badvertising," I complained about companies putting fewer items into each container. I used my tortillas as an example, saying that the size that used to have 20 now only has 16. Then I made this statement: "I understand why they'd try to be sneaky about that (especially when prices remain the same often for the lesser amount), but I don't want to see those same companies tout their 'bigger sizes' a year from now when they're actually the same size they had before getting sneaky. I'm watching you, retail products." Well guess what happened. The size that used to be 10 but got downgraded to 8 is back up to 10. Sure enough, they did just what I didn't want to see happen. There's a big sticker stating, "Now with 2 EXTRA tortillas!" No, assholes, those are the two tortillas you stole from us before and are now rightfully returning. In fact, I should have 12 in here to make up for your cost-saving schemes. (Yes, I take tortillas very seriously.)

And with that, let's choose either corn or flour as we make our way to the Car Watch.

My homey Rockabye saw a Toyota Highlander with this plate: "TOYLNDR." I like that. Even though I've made fun of people who put their make or model on their plates in the past, there's something cute and innovative about combining the two. Ergo, I approve.

My favorite brother sent me a plate that I can't say I really understand the rationale behind. "COWPOOH," it read. Um, manure? Why would someone want that as a license plate? And then there's the problem with the H. Why conjure up images of Winnie the Pooh there? Is that intentional or was "COOPOO" taken and that was the only way to get this dire message across? We'll never know, will we? (Sob.)

And lastly, my friend Dusty sent me an even more confusing plate: "ATE FEET." I see just three options with this one. First, quite literally, this person ingested the bottommost extremities of...something that had them. Second, the "ATE" is supposed to stand for "EIGHT" and the driver is 8 feet tall or has a special association with that specific distance (i.e. a high jump record). Third, he or she strung random letters together to cause people like me to try to figure out what they mean when there really is no deeper significance. I have no frickin' clue, but I sure hope it's not the third one. That's just not cool.

Ok folks, I'm out like the opposite of in. I'll be back next Friday with more words for you, but you can always email me at ptklein@gmail.com if that's just too far away for you. In the meantime, here are some happy occasions that will occur before I'm back here. This Sunday is my little homey T-Boy's 3.5 birthday. Monday is the first birthday (not counting the actual day of birth) of little Emma and the 2.5 birthday of our diminutive pal Tyler. Then on Thursday, just to make sure that these happies are only for children, little Keira turns 2. Please join me in wishing them all great respective days. And you, my friends, you have happy and healthy weekends and weeks. See you again soon. (Well I won't actually see you unless I do some major upgrades to the blog, but you get the point.)