Thursday, September 27, 2007

A Republic or a Democracy?

Some things really irritate the daylights out of me. One of those is referring to our national form of government as a democracy. The United States is not a democracy. We do not have a democratic form of government, thank God, although we sometimes act like it.

The United States is a republic and has a republican form of government. A republic and a democracy are not the same. One is infinitely superior to the other. A democracy is just one step shy of anarchy.

So what is the difference? In a democracy every voter has an equal vote. Laws are made based on what the majority wants. If the majority wants to make it illegal to do something upright it can do it. If it wants to make something immoral legal, like assisted suicide, for instance, it can vote to do that.

A republican form of government elects representatives to make our laws, representatives who (in a perfect world) should do what is right regardless of what the majority wants.

I often hear our politicians, including our President, refer to the United States of America as a democracy. That thinking is pernicious and indicative of either abject ignorance or a subtle undermining of the basic principles of our governance.

Democracies only work in small venues like some New England town governments and clubs or social organizations and in which those who vote and make rules and laws are themselves both educated and God-fearing. Because few these days are educated and fewer can think logically and even fewer are God-fearing, a democracy can only result in ridiculous self-serving legislation.

The United States needs to revert to its republican roots but it probably cannot do so because our legislators are more concerned with collecting from their own golden-egg laying geese than they are in ruling righteously. The same is also true of those in the Exuctive Branch. Thus, our nation is doomed as we, the people, allow and encourage our rulers to legislate based on which way the wind is blowing — or what the (supposed) majority wants.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Slugging It Out




Recently I was out on the lawn and espied a garter snake with a slug in its mouth. I observed it for a few moments and went back into the house to get my camera. It was still there when I returned.


I do not know much about snakes. I have seen and handled garter snakes since I was a child. I am not a snake lover, although I see no sense in exterminating them just because others may be squeamish around them. I find them particularly odious when stepping on them unexpectedly in my bare feet.


I know from experience that rattlesnakes taste good when properly prepared. I also know they are poisonous and dangerous. Once, when living in the mountains of far northern California, I came upon a rattlesnake crawling up the middle of the road. Being on foot, I followed it for some distance. It made no move of aggressiveness toward me. I prodded it with a large stick I had found and couldn't get it to respond in any way.


My high school freshman son once stepped on the head of a coiled rattlesnake as he was running. He had disembarked from a school bus and had taken up at full gallop and didn't even see the serpent. His older brother dispatched the 25”-long rattler with a large rock. It had five rattles.




But back to my garter snake. I had never seen a garter snake do anything but try to escape and get out of my way. This one was just lying there with a slug in its mouth. Was he going to eat it? Was he sucking the juices out of it? Would he carry it off to his den for an after-dinner snack?


I watched it for a few minutes and eventually the snake released the slug. Having done so the beribboned reptile slithered off and the slug continued on its merry way, apparently none-the-worse for its experience.

Monday, September 24, 2007

It's Mind Over Matter

“It's mind over matter,” said the sailor to his minion. “I don't mind and you don't matter.” The New York Times reported a few weeks back, in an article titled, “In the Classroom, a New Focus on Quieting the Mind,” that certain schools are teaching Buddhist mind-control techniques, stripped of religious language but Buddhist nonetheless, to grammar school and high school children. Why is there no uproar about the separation of church and state here? It's mind over matter, too, I suppose.


It seems strange to me that it is impolitic and unlawful to teach Intelligent Design, even though everyone with an I.Q. over 50 knows that there is an Intelligence behind the design. “It smacks of religious teaching,” the contrarians say. What they really mean is it smacks of Christianity.


Things like this and the forcing of elementary school children in California to make believe they are Muslims show the outright hypocrisy of the ACLU, our judicial system, and media moguls. It's a wonder the judge in the California Muslim case didn't order the children to enact beheadings of infidels or practice suicide bombings.


Well, at least they are not doing something honorable, like reading the Ten Commandments.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

An Absurd Logic

Jenny was pregnant — seven months and two weeks pregnant. Jenny was homeless. Jenny had no money. What hope was there for her baby? Her husband was on the road, looking for work. His poor language skills coupled with his shabby appearance made it difficult for him to find employment that would pay enough to maintain a family. He certainly was in no position to help his wife, several hundred miles away, with her situation.

Winter was approaching and already the weather was cold. Huddled under a bridge with only a flimsy windbreaker for outer wear, Jenny shivered and cursed the night. She had spent the day combing through trash cans looking for food. She barely found enough to make a meal and what she did find was not fit for humans. She ate it, nonetheless. Jenny had tried to get public assistance but because she had no identifying documents and could list no home address that was not forthcoming.

In her desperation Jenny hit upon a plan. She had seen some homes that to her were like mansions. Rich people lived there, she surmised. If she could get into one of those she could hide in the attic or basement and at least be warm. When the people were not home she could filch some food — just a little bit; it wouldn't be missed, she thought. The next several days Jenny spent watching some of these houses to see what the habits of the occupants were and how she could enter unnoticed.

It took several weeks, the weather getting colder and the food getting scarcer. One home in particular presented an ideal situation. The owners were often gone and she notice they seldom locked the door when they left. She packed her few belongings and broke into the house. In the attic she found an out-of-the-way corner where she could remain unseen if anyone ventured up. It wasn't long, though, before she was discovered, arrested, and put in jail.

At her arraignment the judge told the homeowners that they would have to allow Jenny to live in their house. He scolded the homeowners for their callous, cruel, and uncaring attitudes. Not only that, they would have to feed her and pay for all her medical expenses. When her baby was born, they were told that they would be responsible for the child. They would have to provide the child housing, food, medical expenses, and when the time came they would also have to pay for the child’s education. “And if Jenny stays in your home for seven years, she will automatically become a member of your family with all the benefits that come with it,” the judge intoned. “She can bring her husband and parents in, too, and you’ll also have to support them.”

“But that’s not fair! That’s not right!” the homeowners remonstrated. And it’s not. But some of our legislators and politicians want you to think it is. That is why we will never get a handle on illegal immigration.

Friday, September 21, 2007

How Did I Get on Their Mailing List?

I am a senior citizen — whatever that means. I am a sexagenarian, at any rate. So how is it that I get advertisements and sample magazines from “Highlights for Children"? Is there someone out there that filled my name in on one of those post cards that you send in for a free something-or-other? Is this some sort of a joke?

I have often thought about filling out those free offers for people that I don’t like or that don’t like me, for people that just irritate me, or for those that need a little more to do in their lives. If I think like that, what's to keep others from thinking the same way – and acting on their impulses.

I would like to be a little mouse and watch the reaction of some guy with one foot on a banana peel and the other in a grave when he gets all that literature from the Army recruiting office. Even more fun would be watching the little spindly old lady who gets a free sample of a muscle-building magazine.

As often as I have thought along those lines and as much as I would like to carry out those designs, I have never done such a thing. The fun is in thinking about it. Now, if I knew I’d be there when all that junk mail came ... well, that would be a different story, I suppose.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Dan Rather's Latest Stupidity

Dan Rather is suing CBS and Viacom for $70,000,000, saying they intentionally mishandled the flap over his intentional misreporting of President Bush's service with the Texas Air National Guard. Now that takes a lot of nerves!

You intentionally announce on national television a story in which you have intentionally lied with the motive of intentionally affecting a national election and then you sue because someone else intentionally mishandles the incident? You try to destroy one man's life and have a fit because you were supposedly mistreated? Get real! My momma always told me when I got myself into a jam, “You made your bed, now sleep in it.”

Yes, CBS and Viacom mishandled the incident. Whether it was intentional or not, I cannot judge. However, had they done what they should have done they would have summarily dismissed you. That they allowed you to retire with some dignity was gracious on their part. So is that why you are suing them? It seems to me, Dan Rather, that you should crawl in a hole and stay there. We've heard enough from you and we've heard enough of you. You should have been drawn-and-quartered — that's what you deserved.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Not the Brightest Bulb

Sheriff's deputies arrested a 46-year-old local woman and her boyfriend after running a vehicle registration check on his car.

It seems the automobile is a work of art, so beautiful the deputies thought it was abandoned. They decided to run the plates. The registered owner had a suspended license and three outstanding misdemeanor warrants.

A short while later a woman came got into the car and drove off, only to be stopped by a sheriff's deputy. She had no license and no proof of insurance. In addition, her license was suspended and she had four misdemeanor warrants outstanding.

Not wanting to have the car impounded, she asked if she could call her boyfriend, the registered owner, to pick up the car. The deputy granted her request. When her friend arrived he was arrested, too. The car was impounded.

Truth is often funnier than fiction.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Why Do You Need a Washington State Driver's License?

Every person moving into the state of Washington desiring a driver's license and not having had one previously is required to take both a written test and a road test, as is every resident applying for a first license. I wonder why.

I moved here, for the second time, in 1977 and shortly thereafter went to Bremerton to get a new license. I was driving a brand new Toyota Corolla lift-back with a 5-speed transmission. My examiner was an affable old gentleman and we got along just fine. One of the requirements was to back from one street onto another. In my case, I was asked to stop on a one-way street and back onto the two-way street behind me, making a left turn. I did ok, or so I thought, but was gigged because I did not hug the left curb. My other demerit was given when I was told to quickly accelerate to the speed limit and then stop as fast as I could. The acceleration part was acceptable but he didn't care much when I stepped on the brake without throwing the clutch out. We stopped real quick — like right now! "That wasn't what I asked you to do," he squeaked. "But you said to stop as fast as I can, and that is what I did." He said I didn't have positive control of the car after the engine died.

The man ahead of me in the testing line was told, "You aren't qualified to drive in metropolitan traffic!" I almost broke out laughing when he said, "What do you mean metropolitan? I'm a New York cab driver." He got his license.

I have no problem with the requirement to take a road test. I just wonder why it is there. I walk the roads with my dog several times a day. Roads without sidewalks have a white line painted to the right of the driving lane. I am told these are called fog lines. At any rate, it is illegal to drive to the right of them. It is permissable to park there and they are also used for pedestrian walkways and bike lanes. That is where I walk. It is not a safe place to walk, however. People zoom by engrossed in talking on their cell phones, picking up stuff off the floor of their vehicle, eating, and recently, even reading a book. While ensconced in whatever they shouldn't be doing they wander across the fog line and on more than one occasion I have had to prepare to jump into the ditch or someone's yard.

Driver's in this state do not know what speed limit signs are for. There is a short stretch of 35 mph zone in an otherwise 50 mph area nearby. Almost no one slows down for it, including the sheriff's department and the Washington State Patrol. I commented on this to one deputy and he got highly incensed. "Well, you don't know why they were speeding." He's right — and I do not care. What I do know is that emergency vehicles are supposed to obey the posted speed limits unless they have both their lights and sirens on. Even when on an emergency run they are not to exceed the speed limit by more than 10 mph.

Then there are the tailgaters. Tailgating seems to be the infraction of choice around here. The cops never stop you for following too close so there's no reason not to do it unless, perhaps, you want to live to a ripe old age. I don't like tailgaters. In my younger, pre-family days, I would stomp the brakes for a tailgater, but now I just slow down — way down. Tailgaters must also be stupid, because most of them don't catch on.

Tailgaters often engage in another hazardous driving habit. They have no problem passing on curves and over double solid lines. This, too, is all-too-common.

Over the years I have lived in Washington I have seen some ridiculous drivers. Once, in Tacoma, a woman passed me while playing the flute. How she steered her SUV while using two hands for the flute is beyond me. Another woman was fixing her hair — with both hands — while driving. A law against text messaging was recently passed after a pedestrian was killed by a driver doing so.

Another Washington State careless driving habit is making a left-turn into the on-coming traffic lane. On more than one occasion I have been sitting at the intersection only to have someone turn left into my lane and almost hit me. Drivers also fail to look to the right when making right turns at intersections, parking lot exits, and driveways. When entering the right-of-way, they often turn onto the road to the right of the fog line before moving over into the driving lane. Pedestrians and cyclists beware!

I won't even talk about what it is like when it snows. Oh yes I will. It snows often enough around here that driver's should know how to get around in it, but they don't. "We have different snow here than you do back East," they tell me. "Yeah, like, is it pink or something?" One inch of snow will shut this county down. One year someone called the cops on a driver that was doing donuts in a parking lot to practice recovering from a skid. Duh!

So, why do you need a Washington State driver's license? What! You mean to tell me you found your's in a Cracker Jack box?

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Am I Really an Idiot?

A "female torpedoman warrior" didn't like my last post, which originally appeared on Smartpunters.com last May. Well, I didn't expect everyone to like it, especially female torpedomen warriors.I will post the majority of her comments, eliminating those portions that are not suitable for ladies and children. She starts off with:


I came across your May 23, 2007 posting while searching for information about the first ever "women torpedoman" aka "skirts". I also read another posting concerning women and torpedoes - I am sure you're familiar with the HSN term? "Men... women are like torpedoes, treat them with loving care and they will run hot, straight and ...." - I can almost picture you laughing as you read this and finishing the quote - but you know, I am not laughing. I am really rather sad about the 2 top search engine results for keywords "torpedoman - women" would produce such degrading material - as if your view or the views of other male Torpedomen really matter. Enough said in that respect.

First, for those not familiar with "HSN," the ellipsis refers to "normal." It is what every tube captain wants to report when a torpedo is fired.

But to answer our female torpedoman respondent: I think you have thin skin and a chip on your shoulder. Do you really think that your opinion is superior to mine? Do you really believe that centuries — no, millennia — of thinking the military is properly a male bastion should be overturned by a less-than-forty year change of thinking? Do you really consider your opinion to be wiser than the millions upon millions of men (and their women) who thought otherwise in ages past?

What I wrote is not degrading. In fact, it is you who have degraded yourself. No self-respecting woman would utilize the crude reference to male genitalia that I excised from your post.


Your statement that women are not warriors is just your own true admission of ignorance. Ask your mother if she was a warrior when she gave birth to you, ask your grandmother if she was a warrior as she gave birth to your father, - I triple dog dare you to do that and post the results of your questions on your blog. I am calling you out on that one - [removed by editor].

Who is ignorant here? Giving birth makes you a warrior? Come on, let's be real. Childbirth may exact effort and pain that no warrior has ever felt, and I shall not diminish what women go through to bring us into the world. That, however, does not make them a warrior. My mother and both my grandmothers have gone to the great beyond and are presently unavailable for interrogation. However, I knew them well enough to know they would take umbrage with being called a warrior. They were ladies, not warriors. Warriors are trained to kill, not to give life.

I am a torpedoman, a woman, a warrior, a daughter of a 2 time Vietnam Veteran with 2 Purple Hearts, and I earned awards for my service as well - not to compare "racks" -

What does being the daughter of a Viet Nam vet have to do with anything?

but I earned my career every painstaking way from being taped to a chair and having sponges filled with piss water thrown at me - to humping 100 lb lead weights from ship to sub - to carrying a weapon and being a sharpshooter with that weapon - to driving a ship YES A SHIP to walking up 7 decks in 30 minutes with a weapon pack and doing so for 4 long painstaking hours - to being in cramped little spaces inside of a submarine and performing PMS on specialty equipment that was simply too difficult for the knuckle dragging, size 2 hat wearing, ignorant Torpedomen that didn't know the difference between EXCELLENCE in the Navy and are not aware of the CORE VALUES...

That you should have been so ill-treated is inexcusable and should never have happened. I have seen worse than that inflicted on male sailors.

I see, however, that you are not even convinced in your own mind that your being a torpedoman has validity. Your use of ad hominem attacks proves you have no valid argument. Ad hominem means "against the man." When you have no logical argument, attack the man (or the woman). If good reasoning can't defeat him, insults might. Well, I confess to being a size 2 hat-wearing torpedoman, but I am far from ignorant.


I suggest you - revisit those memories, do you remember the CORE VALUES you said you would uphold?

Core Values? We didn't have them when I was in. Our core values were: work hard, fight hard, party hard.

I love free speech and the time I served and the sacrifices I made to have the right to free speech..... I just hate it when idiots as yourself use that right in an attempt to cloud the sacrifice made.... mine... or yours....

I'd almost believe you, except if you really loved free speech you wouldn't have had such a hissy over mine. I don't consider my Naval service to have been a sacrifice. It was a privilege. I enjoyed it, for the most part. I don't believe I denigrated your perceived sacrifices. I said nothing to demean you (unless you really believe that my thinking women should not be torpedomen is demeaning).

Here again, you resort to an ad hominem attack. Idiots have a mentality of less than a three-year old. This supposed idiot was, at one time, the engineer responsible for designing all physical and radiological entry controls, accesses, and security control points for refueling naval nuclear reactors and was the cognizant engineer responsible for writing and maintaining one section of the nuclear power manual. Stupid? — possibly. Ignorant? — never. Idiot? — not even close.

And you don't even know the whole story....

I wasn't aware there was a story.

Shame on you.

Back to you, sweet pea!

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

What Is The Navy Coming To?

The commanding officer of the USS Arleigh Burke (DDG 51), E. J. McClure, was recently relieved of command for "loss of confidence in her ability to command." That's right — her. What's the matter with the Navy. Aren't there enough real men to command these ships?

It was a sad day, IMHO, when women were allowed on combatant ships. I am glad I didn't have to serve alongside them. I have no problem with women serving in our armed forces. Just keep them off the ship I'm on.

Yeah, I'm not being PC. I hate being PC. Why do we have to suppress our opinions to please a bunch of lily-livered men who haven't got enough manhood to tell the women when enough is enough? Women do not belong in combat. Period! Women do not belong on combat ships. Period! Women are not warriors. Oh, I forgot about the Amazons. Well, let them be warriors if they are willing to give up a breast like the Amazons did.

I have nothing against E. J. McClure. From what I have read she is an outstanding officer. There's no doubt in my mind that she is not fully capable of commanding a line ship. My issue is that she shouldn't be.

So I'm a relic. Ask me if I care. I was a knuckle-dragging size 2 hat Torpedoman's Mate and proud of it. That was until I found out they now have skirts as torpedomen.

I don't go along with the women's lib thing. There are things men should be doing and there are things that women should be doing. And there are things that both can be doing.

I can remember the first time I went into a barbershop and saw a woman barber. I waited until the male barber finished his customer. No way was I going to allow a woman to cut my hair. Well, as it turns out, women are just as good as (if not a whole lot better than) male barbers. Since that initial shocked reaction I have had my hair cut many times by women. So, you see, I am not blindly anti-woman and I can change my mind.

I once had a female hard-working marine machinist partner that was just as good as any man marine machinist that I have met. She could do everything I could do and probably a bit more. She owned her own D-7 Caterpillar tractor and repaired and maintained it herself. But she paid a price for working in a man's world — she lost her femininity.

The pro-women element can argue all they want. They will never convince me that it is right and proper for a woman to command a warship. They will never convince me that it is right and proper for women to be in combat.

A woman soldier was recently laid to rest and the media pundits made such a big deal over this young woman's tragic death. It is tragic and I feel for the family. The tragedy is that it did not have and should not have had to happen. However, she chose to put herself in harm's way, to take on a role that men have been more-than-willing to fill for eons. She did what was not necessary nor expedient. Unfortunately we cannot have it both ways. You cannot have women exposed to combat and not expect them to be killed.

Some think the Navy brass relieving Captain McClure for grounding her ship was harsh. It was. She may not have been the one that made the mistake, but she was in command and it is the captain's responsibility to stay afloat. Captain McClure has just joined the ranks of many others who have had the misfortune to lose their commands for running their ships aground. Welcome to a man's world!

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

The Little Red Hen — Modern version

This came to me in an e-mail awhile back:


Once upon a time, on a farm in Texas, there was a little red hen who scratched about the barnyard until she uncovered quite a few grains of wheat.

She called all of her neighbors together and said, "If we plant this wheat, we shall have bread to eat. Who will help me plant it?"

"Not I," said the cow.

"Not I," said the duck.

"Not I," said the pig.

"Not I," said the goose.

"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen. And so she did; The wheat grew very tall and ripened into golden grain.

"Who will help me reap my wheat?" asked the little red hen.

"Not I," said the duck.

"Out of my classification," said the pig.

"I'd lose my seniority," said the cow.

"I'd lose my unemployment compensation," said the goose.

"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen, and so she did. At last it came time to bake the bread.

"Who will help me bake the bread! ?" asked the little red hen.

"That would be overtime for me," said the cow.

"I'd lose my welfare benefits," said the duck.

"I'm a dropout and never learned how," said the pig.

"If I'm to be the only helper, that's discrimination," said the goose.

"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen. She baked five loaves and held them up for all of her neighbors to see. They wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share. But the little red hen said, "No, I shall eat all five loaves."

"Excess profits!" cried the cow.

"Capitalist leech!" screamed the duck.

"I demand equal rights!" yelled the goose.

The pig just grunted in disdain.

And they all painted "Unfair!" picket signs and marched around and around the little red hen, shouting obscenities.

Then a government agent came, he said to the little red hen, "You must not be so greedy."

"But I earned the bread," said the little red hen.

"Exactly," said the agent. "That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle,"

And they all lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked, "I am grateful, for now I truly understand,"

But her neighbors became quite disappointed in her. She never again baked bread because she joined the "party" and got her bread free.

And all the Government smiled. 'Fairness' had been established.

Individual initiative had died, but nobody noticed; perhaps no one cared.....as long as there was free bread that "the rich" were paying for.

Monday, September 3, 2007

Words

I like words. I can't even imagine what it would be like to not have the use of words. Jack London wrote, Before Adam, a story that takes place in prehistoric times before the invention of language. I admire Jack London. How do you write about communication in a time in which there were no words? He did it — but even he had to use words.

Words are tools. We use words to wheedle and cajole, to influence and pressure, to persuade and dissuade. The right application of words can win a lover's heart — or break it, start a war — or stop it.

Some words are more appealing than others. Some are graceful, others are coarse. Some are mellifluous, others are guttural. Some are beautiful, others are ugly. Some express complete thoughts, others have no meaning unless attached to another. Some words have a pleasant taste, others have to be spit out.

For the writer, words are most important. It is not the accumulation of words that is attractive, but the arrangement. Unlike our forbears, we like our writing to be tight, succinct. We don't enjoy reading the long descriptive narratives of ancient novels; we want our words to be active, to do something, to pique our interest the moment we start reading.

Even in oral communication, our minds wander when the loquacious jabber on with no idea of where they are going. I know some who have the gift of gab. Hmmn, who was it that said that was a gift? Anyway, I avoid having a conversation with them. Why can't they just get to the point? Why waste all that energy on description and explanation when what I want is clear instruction?

Words should be used with discretion. Say what you mean. Years ago, in my youth, I used nebulous terminology, saying things like thingamajig, whatchamacallit, and doohickey. One of my superiors called me up short one day. He said, "Everything has a name. Use it." From then on, when I used one of those non-descriptors he would say, "Proper nomenclature, please!" In time I was converted.

Word lovers find reading dictionaries a pleasant pastime, at least this philologist does. Some people get absorbed in surfing the Internet. I get absorbed in dictionaries. I have several English dictionaries, as many more foreign ones, thesauruses, and books on English usage. I want to know not only what a word means, I want to know when and where and under what circumstances it originated. I want to know how the word is used in a sentence, whether it is formal, informal, slang, colloquial, in fashion or passe.

Some like words that are multisyllabic, thinking that their usage in one's vocabulary will set them apart as erudite. Vocabulary can be learned from a list as easily as from usage. Words are tools of communication. Four letter words can have as much power and meaning as three or four syllable words. Knowing when, where, and how to use a word shows education. Being able to communicate to the unlearned is a skill and an art requiring not only a sack full of words but a knowledge of how to put them to best use.

Talking with doctors, lawyers, engineers, and scientists may require not only a different vocabulary but a different manner of speech than that used in talking with a longshoreman or ditch digger. I say "may," because there are educated longshoremen and ditch diggers even as there are uneducated professionals.

Words — I like words. There are words that fascinate me. Words open up mental exploration of subjects that otherwise might be withheld from me. As I look into the skies at night and see the myriads of stars and celestial objects that present themselves I find my mind opening to expanded knowledge. I cannot absorb that knowledge without expanding my vocabulary. Even words that I do know, words like "horizon" and "azimuth" take on a new meaning. New words, like sidereal, are added. Now there's a neat word: sidereal. Sid-er-e-al, I toss it around on my tongue. It tastes good. Can we talk about time and space without the use of this word? Now, how can I put it to use? Oh, I suppose I can impress someone by tossing it out in casual conversation. No. That won't do it. It has to have meaning for the hearer as well as the speaker, for the reader as well as for the writer.

I have noticed that those living on the left coast often pronounce words differently than those on the right coast. One day I asked one of my coworkers if he knew the correct pronunciation of concomitant. I said, "Is it CON-com-i-tant or is it con-com-IT-ant?" The former is the correct pronunciation and is what I learned in New York, the latter is often heard out here in the West. "What does it mean? he asked. I told him. "Well, why don't you just use the those words? Why use a word that I've never even heard of?"


"How many crayons are in your kid's crayon box?" I responded. He said, "Sixty-four." I then asked him, "Why didn't you buy him a box with only the basic eight colors?" You see, words are like crayons. They give a different hue, a different nuance. They make for more accurate and more interesting conversation.

Words give us the ability to say exactly what we mean. They incarnate our ideas. They make abstract thought concrete. Words are powerful. Words have changed the course of history, have changed the path our lives take, and words have left us with a repository of the thoughts of the great and the small down through history. Words are valuable and I am both glad and thankful that someone years ago opened my eyes to their beauty.