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Confusing new words are very un-Webster

FOR SENIORS ONLY

By MARCY BUCHANAN

Published: October 29, 2009

Seniors, what are we to do? A whole newly invented language with words and phrases not listed in our dictionaries have entered our simple world. Why at this late date for us are they coming out with a new way of talking and using words that we never before heard? I tell you, I am confused!

We realize that we don't hear as well as we once did, and maybe we misunderstand many of these odd-sounding words. But when we see them splattered in print and on the TV screen, we can blame it on our hearing loss. They've simply created an entire spectrum of speech that we are going to have to learn if we want to "keep in the know."

Do you suppose it's a new plan to get rid of grandma? I could have told them of an easier way: Give them a computer! We admit we can't half see, hear or taste what few foods we can eat. We can't run as fast, climb as high and we do say "Huh?" to many questions asked of us. But dad-blast it, why do people talk so fast and speak in such low tones?

Some of their lingo don't make a lick of sense. For instance: Like TX and LOL. I just knew that I had a couple of new boyfriends when I received payment remittances with TX. I wondered why Tex would omit the E from his name. I gave up on LOL, thinking it had to mean Lots of Love. Now, ain't that sweet?

When I began to hear the term "my space," I thought, now here was something I recalled. As a child, my space was on the bench beside the eating table. I had my space, sister Belle had her space and brother Lloyd had his space. We constantly reminded each other that this is my space. See? I'm learning.

Another familiar word caught my attention and made me feel more at ease with this un-Webster language. "Online" was something I heard every washday as far back as I can remember. Mama would raise from the wash board on the creek bank, holler up at me hanging out clothes and say, "Mar-celle, you got them clothes online?" See? I'm smart.

And my sweet deaf aunt said "tweeter" so often I was glad they had included that word into this new way of speech. Each time Auntie put too much sugar into something — whether it was a cake or run of apple butter — she fussed that is was much tweeter than she wanted it to be. You must agree that I'm a fast learner.

However, there are still some clauses that baffle the daylights out of me. The first time I heard "smoking pot," all I could think of was when Mama's pot of pintos burnt to a crisp. Now there was a smoking pot! As kids, the only thing we smoked was rabbit tobacco, a wild weed with a cottony taste that quickly told us it was for rabbits, not us. One other smoking experience turns my stomach 'til this day, and probably why I never had the habit of smoking anything ever again.

Our granddad grew his tobacco for his chewing habit. He hung it in the barn loft to cure, as he called it. A cousin and I decided to try a chaw.

We'd been impressed at how they could spit when chewing, so we tore off a big wad of the curing leaves and began to chaw.

Not for long, before our throats began to close on us. I looked at Cuz who was turning a pale green, and my stomach felt like I had been eating green apples. We didn't spit, but began to vomit as we made our way to the springhouse. There, on the cool rock ground, we plopped our bellies down, hung our heads over the small stream running out and puked 'til we were too weak to puke anymore. We thought we were going to die, and at the moment wished we could.

Years later, going to the movies and seeing how glamorous Bette Davis and Joan Crawford looked as the waved cigarettes over their heads, Cuz and I were never tempted again to smoke. After all, those glam-gals are gone. Cuz and I are still kicking.

But just thinking of all this makes me a bit sickish, so I will say bye-bye, ta-ta, arrivederci, ciao, aloha and TX for reading this. M-C-Y.

Marcy Buchanan is a writer from Hickory. Some of the names in her column are, by necessity, fictional. The stories are real, however.