In this week’s episode: Just how far back could you go and still understand the English people were speaking? We crank up our trusty time machine to find out. Hint: You’d probably have a tough time getting around in the eighth century, when English poetry looked like: “Hwaet we gardena in geardagum…”

This episode originally aired February 9th and 10th, 2008.

Listen here:

Download the MP3 here (23.5MB).

This week we also started our online-only summer minicasts. Listen to them here.

Speaking of the more recent past: When you played hide-and-seek as a child, did you yell “Ollie, Ollie Oxen Free”? Or “Ally Ally in Free”? Or maybe “Ally Ally Ump Free”? “Ole Ole Olsen Free”? Or something else? A caller in Montevideo, Uruguay, is curious about the origin of such nonsensical phrases.

It’s the Moby Dick of etymology: “Where do we get the phrase the whole nine yards?” A pediatrician in North Carolina wonders if it derives from a World War II phrase involving “nine yards” of ammunition. Grant and Martha discuss the many theories about this expression. Looking for the naughty story we mentioned about Scotsman and his kilt? You’ll find it on etymological researcher Barry Popik’s site.

Martha and Grant discuss squeejawed and other strange terms that mean crooked, or askew, including slanchwise, whompy-jawed, lopper-jawed, antigogglin’, sigogglin, and catawampus.

This week puzzle-guy Greg Pliska gave a quiz called Categorical Allies or Dandy Dyads. He gave a word and Martha and Grant had to come up with the second word that was in the same category as the first and began with the same two letters that the first one ends with.

So, French was a clue, to which we responded Chinese, the category being languages (though it would work as food, too). The two letters CH end FrenCH and start CHinese.

At the end of the quiz, Greg proposed that listeners come up with a string of more than four items in a specific category that follow the same rules. Greg gave the example of American states. His clue was Alabama. We followed it with Maine, Nebraska, Kansas. Or Maine, New Mexico, Colorado. Each word ends with the same two letters that the next word starts with.

So, to play this here in the forums, come up with a fairly narrow category, such as French authors, computer parts, insects, American presidents, or anything else, and then come up with four items that can be linked together by the pairs of last and first letters. Give everyone else the first clue on the forum and the guessing will commence! Your puzzle playground is here.

A woman wonders about a phrase from her past: “I’m going to beat you like a red-headed stepchild.” Martha and Grant discuss gingerism, or prejudice against redheads.

A New York babysitter says the English language needs a word to replace the clunky phrase, “the kids I babysit.” The hosts try to help her find one. “Charges”? “Child associates”? “Padawans”?

This week’s “Slang This!” contestant, a professor of medieval history at the University of Santa Cruz, tries to guess the meaning of the slang terms quizzam and snirt.

A native speaker of Spanish has a hard time with prepositions in English. Why do we say that someone’s “on my mind” but “in my heart”?

A listener in York, England wonders about the word grockles, a derogatory term for tourists.

On an earlier episode we talked about regional differences involving the words dinner and supper, prompting a whole smorgasbord of responses. Grant reads a few of them on the air.

If you’re still wondering about how far back in time you could go and still understand the English spoken then, check out these links:

Written and audio excerpts from the poem Beowulf.

Written and audio excerpts from Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales.

An NPR report in which host Robert Siegel gets a lesson in pronouncing Shakespeare, based on David Crystal’s research for London’s Globe Theatre.

Read the original blog post and listen to this episode.

At the end of the discussion about the term for baby-sat children, “care-giver” was mentioned. So how about “care-kids” or “carekids”? It carries a punch and has good connotations.

Hi, James — Yes, Chubby Checker used those too! Check out these lyrics.

I don’t think it’s connected to “squeejawed,” though.

I suggest “carees”. That way you can say, “My carees have caries” after a visit to the dentist.

For crooked items (e.g. when hanging a painting) I would often have used “skew-wiff” in England, but in Scotland I favour “squint”. If something I’ve made (drawn, cooked, etc) turns out all askew I would most likely call it “wonky”.

I had assumed the word “grockle” was much older than the 60s. My Mum (from Devon) used it particularly for “grockle shops” which sold little of interest to locals: mostly buckets and spades, postcards, etc.

I would also like a better word for kids that you babysit. I did like “sittee” above, except that it sounds too much like “settee” (sofa). I guess you could use the expanded version: Babysitter -> Babysittee. Meh.

There is one reference that was not brought out in the discussion about step-child and lost birth-rights would be that of a Red-head in the bible, Esau.

Gen 25:24-25
24 When the time came for her to give birth, there were twin boys in her womb. 25 The first to come out was red, and his whole body was like a hairy garment; so they named him Esau.

As the events unfold, Easu gave away his birth-right for a meal, and lost his father’s blessings (inheritance) through deception by the younger brother.

This reference could give reason for such a bad rep upon red-heads, though undeserving.

There is also a large hunk of anti-ginger-hair-itude reflected in J K Rowling’s books.

it’s rare that a “bad guy” speaks of the Weasley family without a demeaning reference to their red hair.

Wow — lots to respond to here…

Thanks for posting those, Marc. I especially like “I am Ginger!”

Gemma, I like “wonky” as well. And love the term “grockle shop,” which is a new one on me.

David, yes, the Esau story is another possible explanation floating around out there, but the truth is that as happens all too often, we just don’t know the answer for sure. (I remember my mother the Sunday School teacher getting a big kick out of the King James version, which asserts that “Esau was an hairy man.”)

And I grew up hearing it as “screwjawed.”

I grew up mostly in Wisconsin; my parents were from Iowa. I really don’t recall whether I read the word somewhere, heard it used by a family member, or heard it from school friends.

James D. Huycke said:

Grant & Martha:

Re: “squeejawed”, my father, born in 1910 in Mosinee, Wisconsin, used the term “gee-jawed” in a similar manner. As a driver of teams of animals, he would use “gee” to turn right and “haw” to turn left. I have no specific knowlege of the potential relationships, but the phonetic, conceptual and regional connections seem to close to be coincidental.

j

Yeah, I definitely remember rolling my eyes as I got older and still had to refer to my “babysitter.” (Also funny how she she seemed to get shorter year after year…)

I do like “care” in there somewhere, but darned if I can think of anything euphonious.

strehlow — Is she a Bruce Willis fan?

When I was in college and training to be a teacher, a professor used the name “kidlets” when referring to groups of students - present or future students that we would have in our classrooms. I used the phrase as I went on to teach and it definitely became a word I used when referring to my classes or “kidlet” when referring to one student. Frankly, it became a word which indicated a special and even fond relationship with my students. Thus, I wanted to propose the use of “KIDLET” to your NY babysitter seeking a word to refer to children she babysat. (One last comment - initially, some students take the word as being negative. I am quite sure the negative interpretation comes from the “-let” ending - since the ending is often added to words indicating that it is less than something, such as “booklet” versus “book”. I would quickly assure them that being a “KIDLET” was a VERY good person in my point of view.)

Welcome, chemchika! Thanks for your comments. I do like “kidlets” a lot. (Not to mention that it’d be a nice rhyme for “kismet.” Sort of.)