Mittens in Moonlight (episode #1586)

You’re listening to A Way with Words, the show about language and how we use it.

I’m Grant Barrett.

And I’m Martha Barnette.

In English, if you want to express skepticism about something somebody’s telling you, you might say, stop pulling my leg, or pull the other one, it’s got bells on, which are a couple of phrases I really like.

But there are really picturesque phrases in other languages that express that same kind of skepticism.

One of my favorites is, ahora cuéntame una de vaqueros, which is Spanish for now tell me one about cowboys. Enough of your tall tales. Tell me one about cowboys. And in Tagalog, there’s a phrase that literally translates as you’re making a rope out of sand, which I also really like. Oh, that’s lovely. In French, you might say, which basically means stop with your salads, which I think refers to the idea of just a mishmash of ideas that you’re throwing around. And of course, Missouri, where I’m from, you might say, I’m from Missouri. You’re going to have to show me. Oh, right. The show me state.

I like stop your salads. Enough with them already. Stop with your salads.

Wherever you are in the world, we know that you’ve got a way to tell people to stop with the nonsense. What is the way that you tell them to shush? 877-929-9673. Email words at waywordradio.org or talk to us on Twitter @wayword.

Hey there, you have A Way with Words.

Hi, my name is Holly.

I’m calling from Mount Pleasant, South Carolina.

Hey, Holly, welcome.

Thanks.

I had a question about something my grandma always said. She used to have the whole family over every Tuesday for dinner, and she would always say that she’d put the pepper in the food until she could see it.

So as her eyes got worse, you can imagine that the pepper got more and more. And this was just kind of a joke that we all liked pepper so much. But every once in a while, we would tell her, you know, you really went overboard on the pepper today. And she would always say, well, that’s good for you. You won’t get the pip.

And we had no idea what the pip was. And neither did she really. And she just said her mother always said it. Won’t get the pip like P-I-P?

I think so.

And, you know, we would ask her, you know, what is this disease that we’re so thankful we’re not getting for eating all this pepper? And all she could come up with was that she thought it was a disease that chickens got or something. She always said her mother was of German descent. So I don’t know if it was something translated from a different language that maybe just didn’t quite make it to English.

Well, there are variations of this in other languages, but PIP has been used for certain diseases in poultry in English for five centuries at least.

So it’s true.

Yeah. And then from there, there were like respiratory diseases or diseases of like the skin or beak. And from there, then it was generalized to any nonspecific disease for humans. So you might just get the PIP or the PIPs. And it’s a little bit old-fashioned, but it’s still around here and there.

Yeah, but so it’s been used for a long time. It comes into English from Middle English and then from Middle Dutch. It probably goes back to a Latin word meaning phlegm.

Does it have anything to do with pepper?

No, not at all.

Not in a bit.

Nothing at all.

Oh, okay.

But I could see the pepper being a folk. I mean, there’s always been this idea with folk remedies and folk medicine that the stronger something is, the more likely it is to cure you. You know, if it’s nasty tasting, yep, that’s got to be the thing that’s going to cure you, right? If it makes you blanch when you swallow it, yep, that’s going to fix you right up.

Well, maybe that’s why my family likes pepper.

There are some variations on this, too. The meaning changed over time where, particularly in the UK, it can mean to make somebody angry, to give someone the pip. And it can also mean to become depressed or down-spirited or to be irritated. And there’s a line from P.G. Woodhouse, if there’s one thing that gives me the pip, it’s unpleasantness in the home.

What he means is if there’s one thing that makes me irritated, it’s unpleasantness in the home.

I don’t know. It sounds like your grandmother’s phrase translates as, don’t criticize my cooking.

I mean, that could be it, too, but it was really more of a joke.

It sounds a lot like it’ll put hair on your chest. It is a very common.

Right. Or cut off the crust of the bread to get curly hair or something.

Right. Yeah.

She was full of all those superstitions. Yeah.

Oh, yeah. I feel like superstitions have been replaced by memes in our society. That what used to be passed around as folk wisdom, the folk wisdom now is meme wisdom.

That’s an interesting perspective. I’ll come up with a meme for the pit.

We’ll watch for it.

Maybe we should do that. We start memes based on these old sayings.

Anyway, Holly, thank you so much for your call. We really appreciate it.

Thank you for solving the mystery.

All right. Take care. Call us again sometime.

Thanks. Bye.

Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

Here’s a Spanish expression for sleeping planchar oreja, which means to iron the ear. If you’re sleeping on the pillow on your side, you’re ironing your ear. Oh so true, that’s as a side sleeper, that’s definitely what happens. You wake up and you feel like your ear is no longer got those curves and it’s no longer like a seashell, it’s more like a more like a receipt from the store.

Share your favorite phrases and idioms with us, 877-929-9673, or send them to us an email. That address is words@waywordradio.org.

Hello, you have A Way with Words.

Hi, this is Pam from Camden, South Carolina.

Hello, Pam. Welcome to the show.

Hey, thank you.

What’s going on, Pam?

What my question is, is my husband is from Minnesota, Minneapolis, which, you know, he thinks is the best state in the country. And he has all these funny terms that he would come up with. And I always kind of called him on it. But one of the terms that he uses whenever I’m choking is, oh, it went down your Sunday throat. And I said, you know, that’s like a creepy thing you’re talking about. He goes, no, my mom used to say it all the time. And I said, I don’t think that’s valid. I think, you know, I don’t know if that’s like a real term or not. So I just wanted to see if you all had any background on the term Sunday throat.

Yeah, that’s a weird one. And it doesn’t seem to be particularly regional. We don’t even know the origin of this expression, although you will hear it all over the place. It’s not that common, but you will hear it from time to time if you’re joking. We don’t really know except that, you know, traditionally there’s been something different about Sunday as opposed to every other day of the week, right? In our culture, it tends to be a special day. And so it’s different from all the other days in the week and sort of in the same way. If your food is going down the wrong tube there, it’s going down a different tube. It’s not going down the usual one. And that’s really about the best we can do on that.

Okay.

Well, that’s more credit than I gave it. So that’s good.

That’s good.

Yeah. Sometimes it’s called the Sunday lane or the Sunday pipe, but it just has to do with it being different from the usual pipe it usually goes down. And now, Martha, there are some other Sunday items that are special, too, that aren’t the throat, right? Like your Sunday go-to-meet-and-close.

Oh, yeah.

Or your Sunday face.

Your Sunday face is your kind of fake face that you put on when you’re being insincere.

Right. And Sunday face is also a slang term for your backside, for your derriere, because it used to refer to a sanctimonious expression. You know, you put on your Sunday face and you look very prayerful and pious. And people took that term and turned it into a slang term for your buttocks.

Nice, nice. That’s kind of like what would happen to us when we would go to church. We would have the fight in the car, and then we would pull it together when we went through the door. So that’s valid.

Exactly. Put on your Sunday face.

Keep the food going down your weekday throat, Pam, and take care now.

Thank you. Love your show. Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

Thank you, Pam. Bye-bye.

Yeah, your Sunday going to meeting clothes. These are your fine clothes, not like your play clothes.

Right, right. And then there’s your Saturday night bath.

Saturday night bath? What? I have to take one like every night or every other night.

You know, I knew somebody growing up who talked about taking her Saturday night bath. I think that that was just to get ready for church in the morning.

Right. So you’re, yeah, because I can’t imagine getting all the kids ready for early morning church, right?

Yeah, you got to start early, right?

Clear your Sunday throat and get on the line, 877-929-9673.

Hello there. You have A Way with Words.

Great. This is Alan O’Neill. How are you?

I’m doing well. Where are you, Alan?

I am in Charleston County, South Carolina, in the little hamlet of Hollywood, which is located about 20 miles south of the Historic District.

Welcome to the show, Alan. What can we do for you?

Well, I grew up in eastern North Carolina, as did my mother, and she often used the word jubus. I’m not sure how it’s spelled, but she would use it in the context of being weary of something or not quite sure, maybe thinking, I’m a little skeptical of that. And she used it often.

That sounds just about right.

She would not be alone in that.

It’s a pronunciation of dubious, D-U-B-I-O-U-S, jubus. And jubus has had multiple spellings, J-U-B-O-U-S, J-U-B-U-S, D-U-B-O-U-S, D-U-B-U-S. You are more likely to hear it in the American South, but there are forms of it known in various English dialects and in Scotland. So West Yorkshire, Cheshire, Leicestershire and Shropshire. And it’s got evidence of 200 years of use in the United States. So, yeah, all meaning kind of doubtful or suspicious. Like, I’m dubious about Tom. I believe he’s going out with a young woman for he’s put on his Sunday suit twice this week. That’s a quote from one of my dictionaries.

Right. Well, that’s interesting because that’s exactly the context in which she used it. And she has departed, unfortunately, but she was of Scottish heritage. Her maiden name was Grant.

How about that?

Sometimes you might hear jubirus, J-U-B-E-R-O-U-S, or guberus or gubbers. And all of these are gubius. All of these are variations on dubius. Some of them are spread outside of the South, like you might hear those latter ones in New England. But they’re all just basically dialect pronunciations of dubious with hundreds of years of history going back to the old world.

That is interesting.

A synonym is dubersome, if you’d like to go that direction.

I like that.

Dubersome.

I like that.

Right.

And how is that spelled?

D-U-B-E-R-S-O-M-E.

Dubersome.

Okay.

Great.

I’m an uber sim of this guy who says he’s going to fix my car for $50. I just don’t think he’s going to do a good job.

And he certainly wouldn’t do a good job today for $50, would he?

No, he would not.

Hey, Alan, thanks so much for calling.

Thank you all. It’s been an absolute pleasure, and I enjoy your show.

Thank you so much.

Take care.

Call us again sometime, Alan.

I will.

Thank you.

Have a great day.

Bye.

You too.

Bye-bye.

All righty.

Bye-bye.

Bye.

So J-U-B-O-U-S is probably the usage that he’s talking about.

Yeah, J-U-B-O-U-S or J-U-B-U-S. Very likely heard by many people in the American South. I bet a lot of ears perked up when he said that.

877-929-9673.

You’re listening to A Way with Words, the show about language and how we use it. I’m Martha Barnette.

And I’m Grant Barrett.

And, well, Augusta Wynn, the door swings open, and who’s standing in the shadows but our quiz guy, John Chaneski.

Hi, John.

Hi, Grant.

Hi, Martha.

I’m coming out of the shadows to bring you this quiz.

Wow, it’s very bright in here.

Okay, good.

Now, there are lots of fun ways to call somebody a bad guy. You know, you can say they’re a rogue, a scoundrel, a rascal, a cad, a bounder. But one of my favorites is ne’-do-well. So descriptive. As comedian Gary Goldman says, how often do they do well? Nair. They nair did well. Now, it was my own wife, poet Jennifer Michael Heck, who told me, you know, there are some people you can’t classify as nair do wells because, you know, every once in a while they get it right. She says, I’d call them a rare do well.

Oh.

Yeah.

Well, that’s all I needed and I was off. So what would you call someone who does some good and, say, lives in a nudist colony?

A rear-do-well?

A rear-do-well.

Or, or.

What do you think, Martha?

Maybe a bear-do-well.

A bear-do-well, yes.

Or a bear-rear-do-well.

Let’s try some of these now. Now, you know, it’s not easy to do well by yourself. Sometimes you need an associate, a friend, a compatriot. Like Batman and Robin. What would you call a couple or duo focused on good deeds?

Pair-do-well.

A pair-do-well, yes.

Now, for some people, it’s not enough to do well. You also have to make it tough on them. Like Robbie Knievel or his father, Evil Knievel. What devilish do-gooder can only do it if you challenge them on some level?

A dare-do-well.

Yes, a dare-do-well. Very good.

My barber, he’s a great guy. On the weekends, he offers his services for free to homeless people who have a job interview. Now, what do I call him?

A hair-do-well?

A hair-do-well, yes. Very nice.

Did I ever tell you about my veterinarian? He assists pregnant horses in birthing their foals in his spare time, and he does it for free. What do I call him?

A mare do well.

A mare do well.

That’s right.

I have a barber, and I have a veterinarian, a personal veterinarian.

Wow.

Right?

Big life.

Big fancy, yes.

I’m watching late-night TV, just sitting there. Commercial comes on for Feed the Children or World Wildlife Fund, whatever, and I could just pick up my phone and donate without ever getting up from my Barker lounger. What would you call me?

Chair do well.

Chair do well.

Laziest of all the do wells, the chair do well.

Of course, sometimes it’s very simple to do well. All you have to do is give a little of what has been given to you. The other day at work, someone offered me a brownie. What did I do? I gave a little bit to Grant and a little bit to Martha. What would you call me?

You’re a chair do well.

I’m a Cher-du-well, yeah. Good guy.

All of these people are Care-du-wells, so we’ve gone from near-du-wells to Care-du-wells. I think it’s great. So go out and do well, you guys. You guys did very well on the quiz.

Well, fairly well, John, and thank you for the quiz. We appreciate it.

Farewell, farewell.

We’d love to talk with you right here on the air about language. So give us a call, 877-929-9673, or send your stories about language to words@waywordradio.org.

Hi there. You have A Way with Words.

Hi, my name is Alvin. I’m calling from Huntsville, Alabama.

How are you?

From Huntsville?

Yes.

What’s on your mind, Alvin?

I love the show. First of all, I just want to say I love the show. I’m a big fan and a big word nerd.

Yay!

But I was listening to a show, I think maybe last week or two, and the caller called in and it made me think of a word that they weren’t talking about. And the word I’m talking about is chumpy.

Chumpy.

It’s a word that I learned from a guy that I met. My sister was dating a guy. She went to college in the Pennsylvania area. And the guy she was dating was from Philadelphia. So this was back in the late 80s maybe. He came with the word chumpy. And I was just enthralled with it. And I was wondering if you guys had some history on it. How does chumpy fit into a conversation?

Isn’t that the question?

Everywhere.

Bro.

Oh, wow.

I’m a chumpy.

You’re a chumpy.

Everybody’s a chumpy.

Chumpy is replaced. It replaces any noun or pronoun pretty much out there. And it’s great because it’s just fun to use.

I’ve heard Will Smith use it in Fresh Prince of Bel-Air from time to time if you paid attention.

He’ll say, yo, that chumpy was fly.

And he’s pure Philadelphia, right?

He is pure.

Are you kidding me?

Wow.

Yeah, he’s kind of Hollywood now, but no, he’s still Philly.

We’re going to give Will Smith.

He keeps true.

He kept his card.

Okay.

Yeah.

But, yes, I was wondering if you were able to find any history on the word.

I’ve had friends from the area, and I can’t find anything on it.

And I love the word.

My wife hates it.

She hates when I say it.

And so it makes it more fun for me to say.

So you use it more often?

Is that what you’re saying?

Yeah.

How do you use it, Alan?

Yeah.

Oh, well, I use that chumpy any way it goes.

You know, I’ll be like, this chumpy is delicious.

I went down to the chumpy and saw the chumpy.

I was with my chumpy.

It’s literally that bad.

Very similar to the John that comes from Philly.

You guys discussed that a little while ago.

We did.

I was guessing that was the call that you would listen to that made you think of chumpy.

John is another one of those placeholder words.

It just kind of fills in anything that you’re saying, any noun.

It can just be right in there.

I’m sorry to say I don’t have a lot for this particular use of chumpy.

It’s unusual.

Wow.

The earliest that I know is the 1980s, and that’s what you mentioned as well.

You learned it in the 1980s, right?

That’s correct.

Yeah, I don’t know any earlier than that, but I would not be surprised if it’s much older than that.

There are a lot of different other chumpies, other slang terms, but they’re unrelated.

You know, there’s a chumpy meaning insane, and there’s a chumpy meaning peculiar, and there’s a chumpy meaning chunky, and there’s a chumpy meaning happy.

But these are all clearly not the same word.

This word is really unusual.

And, of course, we have to mention Chumpy’s, the African-American-owned brand of potato chips that started.

But they started in 91.

Kind of in a response to the popularity, I think.

I think you’re right.

Yeah, they were named after the slang word.

So the slang word didn’t come from the chips.

So at least that gives us like a firm date.

We know that the word was definitely out there before 91.

You remember it from the 80s.

Dude, I don’t know.

Alvin, we’re going to have to put the word out and see if any of our listeners can give us some more concrete information.

I’d love to see something in print where somebody’s using it like in a yearbook or school newspaper or something.

But either way, it’s just fun.

Philly has great fun slang.

It sure does.

Except for your wife.

I’m going to go use it with her at least two or three times and just get on her nerves.

It’s so much fun.

That chomping is fun.

Oh, dude.

I’m with you.

I don’t want to get between you and your wife, but I’m behind you all the way.

But fun is fun.

But if we find out more, we’ll put it on the show.

I’m sure we’ve got listeners everywhere, and I’m sure if somebody comes up with something, we’ll put it out there.

We’ll let everyone know what we found out, all right?

Well, that Chumpy sounds great.

Yeah, all right.

Thank you very much, Alvin.

This has been a great Chumpy.

Indeed.

You guys stay on top of the jump and keep doing well.

I love the show.

You guys, I’m a big fan.

Thanks for having us.

Call us with another Chumpy sometime.

How did I do?

I sure will.

When I get one, you know I will.

Thanks.

Okay.

Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

Have a good day.

Take care.

Are you from Philly and use chumpy kind of as a placeholder word for just about anything?

Let us know, 877-929-9673, or send us the evidence in email to words@waywordradio.org.

Here’s a word to add to your word horde, pabblebonk.

Pabblebonk?

How do you spell Pobblebonk?

P-O-B-B-L-E-B-O-N-K.

Pobblebonk.

Is this English?

Yes.

Pobblebonk.

Is this when you walk under a fruit tree and you get hit on the head by a falling fruit?

I don’t know.

I always love your guesses.

I don’t know.

They’re so picturesque.

A Pobblebonk is an Australian bullfrog that doesn’t croak so much as plonk.

It actually sounds like a banjo, and it’s also called a banjo frog.

And we will link on our website to videos of those frogs making that noise.

Because it really does sound like a banjo.

I’m not kidding.

Wow, musical frogs.

Musical frogs.

Hello, my honey.

Hello, my baby.

Hello, my bad time cow.

Well, okay, it’s not that complicated.

It’s more like bubble bonk.

I mean, it sort of is what it sounds like, but check it out.

Oh, you can join us on the air.

Go to our website at waywordradio.org/contact, and there’s a million ways to reach us, whether in the United States, Canada, or anywhere in the world.

Hello, you have A Way with Words.

Hi, my name is Susan, and I’m calling from Chester County, Pennsylvania.

But I grew up in New Jersey.

Okay.

Growing up in New Jersey, we got all the New York stations on TV and radio.

And whenever they would refer to the five boroughs of New York, it was always Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, Manhattan, and the Bronx.

Always the Bronx.

And I’ve always wondered about that.

Why the definite article there?

Why is it the Bronx and not a Bronx or just Bronx?

Right.

Why not just Bronx, like Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, Manhattan?

Yeah.

That’s a really good question, Susan.

There was a man named Jonas Bronk.

He was a Scandinavian.

I say Scandinavian because it’s debated whether or not he was Danish or Swedish.

And he arrived in New Netherland in 1639,

And he bought about 500 acres north of the Harlem River

Around what is known as the Bronx in 1642.

Now, he had come through the Netherlands,

And he was married to a Dutch woman,

And he worked for the Dutch West Indies Company.

He had kind of a Dutch flavor about him.

It wasn’t like he was completely Scandinavian.

But he didn’t live very long after that.

And so his land didn’t keep the name Bronx Land or Bronx Farm or anything.

But there was a river which runs down the middle of the Bronx and up through Westchester County that lets out on the East River.

And the Bronx River kept his name.

Now, he spells his name B-R-O-N-C-K.

And it became known as Bronx River, possessive.

So it’s his river.

And that’s the only part of his name that stuck.

Years ago, in 1993, there was a historian who wrote to the New York Times to talking about this particular bit of transaction, like why it’s called the Bronx.

And originally, he says the Bronx is part of Westchester County, which is just north of the five boroughs.

And in 1874, New York City added the area west of the Bronx River and in 1895, the part east of it.

Now, it wasn’t called the Bronx yet.

People in Manhattan called it the Annex District and people who lived there called it the North Side.

But then in 1895, when New York City kind of became what it is today with the five boroughs, they needed a name for it.

And so since the Bronx River ran through that northernmost annex district, or that north side, they called it the Bronx, with a capital T on the, after the river.

So it was named after the river, which is named after the man.

So the Bronx River.

Yeah.

Now, the question I have not found an answer to, which nobody seems to be able to provide me, is why we don’t spell it like he spelled it, B-R-O-N-C-K, why we spell it B-R-O-N-X.

Nobody seems to know.

I cannot figure out for the life of me, and I’ve looked for years, when Bronx got its ex.

By the way, I can recommend, Susan, if you have more questions about this,

There’s a great book called The Names of New York.

It’s by Joshua Jelly Shapiro.

What a great name.

J-E-L-L-Y hyphen S-C-H-A-P-I-R-O.

Joshua Jelly Shapiro, Names of New York.

The Names of New York.

Yeah.

Oh, good.

Yeah.

And it talks about street names and park names and building names and all different kinds of names throughout the five boroughs.

All right.

So it’s complicated.

It is.

You got that right, Susan.

Thank you, Susan, for your call.

We really appreciate it.

Well, thank you.

It’s good to get that history, and I’m definitely going to get the book.

All right.

Take care now.

Thank you.

Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

Well, Martha and I do love digging deep to find out answers to questions.

What’s the question that’s been bothering you?

The one you’ve been waiting to ask, you’ve always meant to ask us but didn’t.

Now’s the time. 877-929-9673.

Hello. You have A Way with Words.

Hi, Martha. This is McPaul calling from Montclair, New Jersey.

McPaul, welcome to the show. What can we do for you?

Thank you. I wanted to talk about a strange, unique, regional spelling variation that I was conscious of.

I wasn’t conscious of it until I left the region where I grew up.

I grew up in Erie, Pennsylvania.

And in Erie, there are about a half a dozen restaurants that are called, they have the word diner in their name, you know, Stan’s Diner or the Park Place Diner or whatever.

But all the diners in Erie are spelled D-I-N-O-R on their signs.

So, you know, growing up, I just assumed that was how diner was spelled until I went to college in Pittsburgh and saw a diner where it was spelled D-I-N-E-R.

And I pointed at the sign and I said to my friends, they spelled diner wrong on that sign.

And they all sort of thought, you know, it was a classic look at me like I had two heads moment.

And then, you know, that was the moment that I found out that only in Erie a diner is spelled D-I-N-O-R.

So I’m curious about whether you’ve ever come across that odd variation.

And also just more generally about colloquial alternative spellings for commercial businesses in particular regions.

Well, our other listeners have noticed that.

We’ve heard from Robert White in Ohio and Alan Perkins in Vermont.

They noticed that diner was spelled that way in the northwest of Pennsylvania and wanted to know more, too.

And so it’s primarily around Erie and the surrounding cities and not much else.

There’s nowhere else, really.

Occasionally, you’ll find it a little further away.

But as far back as the 1920s, you can find listings in, say, business directories or ads in the newspapers for diners spelled O-R in that part of the country.

Nobody knows for sure why it’s the case.

But looking for an answer, I turned in the past to Brian Butko’s book.

That’s B-U-T-K-O, Diners of Pennsylvania.

And it’s a really wonderful book.

I mean, it’s so full of history.

It’s just a real nice picture of a time and a place in this country.

And as you know, diners were often made out of dining cars.

But there was also this side industry of making diners prefabricated, I think in Patterson, New Jersey, and shipping them to other places in the country.

So they were made to order to look like dining cars and not necessarily from dining cars originally.

And so some of these diners with an OR at the end in the northwest of Pennsylvania are these prefabricated diners.

He lists a bunch of different theories.

One theory is that people were saying to themselves, well, you can’t have it both ways.

You can’t have the person who eats there be known as a diner and the building known as a diner.

So we should call the building something a little different.

So let’s call it diner OR.

Another theory was that it was just a misspelling that caught on, though nobody really knows who spelled it that way first.

Another idea was that, and this is the one I think has the most legs to it, so to speak, is that it was, Martha, there’s a term for this where these businesses misspell language on purpose.

Sensational spelling.

Yes, that’s it. Sensational spelling.

Oh, sure.

They use these spelling variants just to kind of catch your eye, like quick becomes K-W-I-K or the through in drive-thru comes T-H-R-U or night.

Right, or light beer, L-I-T-E.

Yeah, exactly. Night becomes an I-T-E as well.

There’s a theory that it comes from German, but there’s no German word that’s like that, that means anything like diner.

But in any case, the one that I like the best is that it really is just a kind of a commercial business spelling variant that caught on.

Thanks for raising that question.

Thank you. Bye.

Let us know if you have another example.

You can email it to words@waywordradio.org or call us, 877-929-9673.

The Spanish word for sunroof, like the sunroof in a car, is quemacocos, which is a wonderful word because the word coco is a slang term for head.

It has to do with the head’s resemblance to a coconut.

And in Spanish, quemar means to burn.

So, quema cocos.

You pull back the sunroof and you burn your head.

Quema cocos.

877-929-9673 is the magic number to call toll-free in the United States and Canada or email us from anywhere in the world, words@waywordradio.org.

You’re listening to A Way with Words, the show about language and how we use it.

I’m Grant Barrett.

And I’m Martha Barnette.

We heard from Wendy Stanton Westwood in Fredonia, New York, who wrote to us about a project her mother Barbara undertook during the pandemic.

Now, Barbara Stanton is 96, and she spent the last few months compiling a list of words and phrases that their family used growing up in the 1950s and 1960s.

And Grant, the Stanton family lexicon, as she calls it, is 33 pages long.

Wow.

She sent us a copy.

And it’s really fantastic. Some of the words are childhood misunderstandings and some of them are intentional mispronunciations that just kind of stuck around.

One of their relatives owned a traveling circus so there’s a little bit of circus slang in there and games that the family would play and it’s just a lot of fun to have kind of a fly-on-the-wall view of a whole family growing up during that period of time.

Let me just give you a couple of examples. Instead of saying New Mexico, they would call it New Mixing Bowl, which I think is really cute.

And one of their neighbors used to refer to the broadcaster Walter Cronkite as Waffle Corn Flake.

So they all adopted that, you know, time for Waffle Corn Flake after dinner.

They also referred to the New Room. That’s the name of the family room that was added to the back of the family home back in 1960.

But of course, it’s still called the new room, which happens in families, right?

Right.

Oh, it reminds me of Pont Neuf in Paris, which is by no means new anymore.

It’s hundreds of years old.

No longer new.

Here’s one more, Billy Onsen.

Billy Onsen was the name of one of the boy’s imaginary friends.

And once the dad went on a business trip and mailed a postcard from Billy Onsen to the kid, and the kid was really confused about getting a card from his imaginary friend.

That’s a great prank.

Something like that happened in my family, but maybe I’ll save that for another time.

Oh, that would be a lovely story to hear, Martha.

Every family has its own language.

That’s just the way families work.

Why don’t you sit down and record a lexicon of your family, and while you’re at it, you can share it with us.

You can send it to us, words@waywordradio.org, or go on our website at waywordradio.org and find our contact page.

And there’s lots of ways that you can reach us.

Hello.

Welcome to A Way with Words.

Hi.

Yes.

This is Matthew Butler.

I am calling in from Columbia, South Carolina.

Columbia, South Carolina.

Well, we’re glad to have you on the show.

Well, so growing up, I always heard the word thirsty in my family whenever someone would go on a vacation or just go somewhere and come back.

They would bring little treats, little kind of, you know, just small items.

It was never anything big or extravagant, but it was just a thoughtful little gift.

And honestly, I’ve always heard it.

I’ve never seen it written down.

I have no idea how it’s spelled.

And I’m just wondering where it came from or, you know, it’s obviously a colloquialism, but just wondering if it’s specifically regional or, you know, if we can find out where it came from.

It is indeed regional.

Circe, meaning a small surprise gift that you don’t tell the person about until right when you deliver it, right?

Right, right.

Yeah.

What kind of Circes have you gotten before or given before?

It was always from Aunt Snuggles.

And it would just be small things, whether it was like a specific candy or something like a little knickknack from someone’s vacation.

If they went to like Disney World or someplace, like bring back, not necessarily a key chain, but like just a small little something that kind of represented where they went and something they just thought of.

Okay. Okay. Yeah. A little Circe for you.

I’m not surprised that you don’t know how to spell it because it has lots of different spellings. As you suggest, it’s a word that’s usually spoken rather than written down. So we see lots of different forms of it like S-U-R-C-Y or S-I-R-S-E-E. There are lots of different versions of this.

But, yeah, it’s the kind of thing that you sort of whip out from your purse and say, I got a Circe for you. And you may be wondering, well, why do we call it a Searcy? It’s a term, by the way, that is scattered throughout the South and particularly in South Carolina. So I’m very interested that you’re from there.

There was a professor of foreign languages at the University of South Carolina, Dr. F.W. Bradley, who wrote a few newspaper columns there in the State and Columbia Record back in the 60s. And he was kind of trying to crowdsource the origin of this term that he’d been introduced to. And so a lot of people started writing in. And there was one woman who said that she went to Coker College and heard it there. It’s now Coker University there in Hartsville, meaning exactly what you’re talking about.

And other people wrote in from Columbia College. Grant, there were a lot of these, right? Yeah, Erskine College. And some people didn’t name their schools, but almost always there was women’s colleges, young women remembering it from either their camp experience, like summer camp, or from their undergraduate college experience. So that is pretty interesting. And we’re talking the 1930s and the 1940s that they’re remembering it from.

Wow. I mean, so I guess is it really that I’m wondering, is it kind of a new-ish word if you want to call something for the 1930s new-ish? Well, yeah, it depends on your definition of new, I guess. It’s probably traveled around some, but you definitely, definitely hear it in the South. And it makes sense to me, and I think to Grant as well, that it might be the kind of term that’s passed around among college girls back in the day. And at least one of them has suggested that it may have to do with being a surprise secret, a sur-see, a surprise secret. So the first part of surprise and the first part of secret put together in one word. That’s not for sure the source of the word, but it would make sense.

That certainly would. That’s very interesting and certainly kind of enlightens something that, you know, I just kind of grew up hearing. Well, we wish you many happy Sersis to come. Well, thank you. And to y’all as well. I hope everyone receives a wonderful Sersi sometime very soon.

Take care, Matthew. Thanks for calling. Sounds good. Bye-bye. Bye-bye. Thank you. Y’all take care. Bye-bye now. Bye-bye.

We know there are traditions in every facet of life. What do you remember from your college days? I know there’s some slang that you’re still hanging on to that you used back then. Share it with us, 877-929-9673. Email words@waywordradio.org. And talk to us on Twitter @wayword.

In 1936, Carl Sandburg published The People Yes. That’s a 300-page poem that’s a kind of celebration of American culture and phrases and folklore and the American people who were struggling during the Depression. And parts of the poem include bits of idioms and phrases that Sandburg didn’t necessarily invent, but he incorporates it into the stanzas. And I just wanted to share his description of audiences, which I really enjoyed.

One audience may wheeze like a calliope with sore tonsils and another roar like a burning lumber yard. Some of them, as you look closer, are slow as molasses in January or quick as greased lightning. Some are noisy as a cook stove falling downstairs and others quiet as an eel swimming in oil. Isn’t that great?

I especially love that last line, summer is noisy as a cook stove falling downstairs and others quiet as an eel swimming in oil. Because they already look unctuous eels. Unctuous. They look super slippery and just like you’ll never get your hands on them. Right. And they’re so quiet swimming in oil. Sandberg’s poetry deserves a look if you haven’t paid attention to it in a while. And if there’s poetry that you’ve been enjoying, we’d like to hear about it. Send it to us, words@waywordradio.org, or heck, read it into our voicemail, 877-929-9673.

Hello, you have A Way with Words. Hi, this is Susan. I’m calling from Cocker City, Kansas. Hi, Susan. Welcome to the show. I’m curious about some expressions that my mother had, one in particular. She grew up in Dayton, Virginia, out in the Appalachians, so she had a lot of funnies. But one in particular, she had always called, if she saw a woman from church or her bridge group or something, that was always immaculately dressed and makeup and hair and matching purse, shoes, things like that. She’d always say to us girls, she always looked like she just stepped out of a band box.

We’d say, well, what is a band box, mom? Well, she had no idea, but it was one of her favorite expressions. And did you picture anything in particular when she said this? In my mind, I just saw someone immaculately dressed, you know. I mean, my mother was the kind of person, her gloves matched her purse and her shoes. And so that was kind of that era. But she always would have a hair out of place or something because she had five children. So I guess she just admired the woman that could just show up and be completely flawless.

Okay, got it. And she said she looked like she just stepped out of a band box. That’s what she would say. Okay. What I pictured when I first heard this expression was somebody stepping out of a gazebo in a park, you know, at some band performance or something like that. I was thinking of a place where a band gathers to play, but that’s not what it is. Well, that makes more sense, though. Well, it’s picturesque. Yours is picturesque as well.

But here’s the cool thing about this expression. They looked like they stepped out of a band box. Back in the 17th century, a band was a kind of ruffly collar that you wore at your neck. And a band box was like a cylindrical box made out of cardboard or really, really thin wood to protect that or to protect a hat or to protect a clerical collar. So you would store those items of clothing in a band box, a band being originally that ruffly collar that you would wear around your neck. You would store those things in a band box.

So it would be perfect. It would be perfect, exactly. We see the expression stepped out of a band box back in the early 19th century, talking about exactly the kind of thing you’re talking about, somebody who’s very fastidiously put together, just perfection, really. Well, that’s very interesting. I sure appreciate that. Thank you. We’re happy to help. Sounds like you’re fond of your mother. Thank you for sharing that with us. Take care, Susan.

Well, thank you, guys. Thanks so much. Bye-bye. Well, if you are fussy and finical about your language, call us, 877-929-9673, or talk to us on Twitter @wayword.

I found an intriguing saying in a book of Proverbs. It’s, moonlight doesn’t dry any mittens. Interesting. I’m not quite sure what that means. I’m not sure either, unless it just means trying something in an inappropriate way won’t work for you? I don’t know. I could see that in some circumstances you might use it to mean shedding light on a situation is one thing, but it doesn’t necessarily solve the problem. That could be.

Moonlight doesn’t dry any mittens. Well, let us know if you use that and what it means to you. 877-929-9673. Or go to our website, waywordradio.org/contact, where we have a bunch of ways to contact us no matter where you are in the world.

Hello, you have A Way with Words. Yeah, hi. This is Jerry. I’ve called you a few times. I used to be from Hell’s Kitchen, New York, but now I’m retired and I’m living with my son in Northern Virginia. Well, all right. Well, welcome to the show, Jerry. We’re glad to have you. Thank you. Yeah. The reason I called was because the other day we have a standard poodle,

And standard poodles are really active and jumping around and this and that.

And I said, I just happened to comment to my daughter-in-law.

I said, and his name’s Pepper.

I said, Pepper is certainly rambunctious.

And then I paused and said, rambunctious?

What the heck kind of word is that?

Where did I get it?

I don’t know what the heck.

I don’t know where that came from.

Rambunctious is just really active, really, you know, I have no problem knowing what it means, but I don’t know where it came from.

So I thought maybe you could clarify it for me.

Yeah, it’s a great word for a standard poodle, isn’t it?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Rambunctious is a bit of a puzzle.

It first shows up in the early half of the 19th century in the U.S. When there was this period of great linguistic exuberance and creativity, particularly in the 1820s and 1830s.

30s, we get a lot of these really active, rough and tumble words like discombobulate and hornswoggle,

Meaning to swindle, or absquatulate, meaning to take off in a hurry, or scalawag, or scrumptious,

And snollygoster, which is a corrupt politician. They’re all these words that bubble up in this

Period where people are just having a whole lot of fun with language. And we’re not really sure

Exactly how that one came to be, although it may be an alteration of a British word,

Which is rumbustious, which sounds kind of similar, doesn’t it? Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Yeah, it can mean boisterous or robust. And in fact, that word comes in turn from a word

Robustious, which means boisterous and robust. So it seems like maybe it’s an adaptation of that

Word, but we don’t really know. So it has nothing to do with livestock and rams and

Butting heads or anything like that. No, that’s a great picture. That’s the only way I could put

It together. That’s where I was really stumped on it. Okay. Okay. That’s great. All right.

All right. Thanks, Jerry. Yeah. Give Pepper a little head scratch for us. Oh, I always do.

He loves that, too.

Well, who doesn’t?

There you go.

Yeah, that’s a good point.

Good point.

Take care now.

All right, great.

Thanks very much.

Thanks, Jerry.

Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

Bye.

Come join us.

Let’s be rambunctious together.

877-929-9673.

Linda from Wichita, Kansas wrote us to say that we need a word for that closed mouth little smile that you give to somebody when you pass them on the street or in a store.

When you want to acknowledge that person, but you really don’t know them, so you can’t give them a big old toothy smile.

And she would like to suggest the word smurm.

S-M-U-R-M.

Smurm.

Smurm?

Smurm.

Maybe, but it’s so close to smarm, which sounds like you don’t mean it.

I liked it just because it sounds like, you know, when you try to give somebody a smile, but it’s obligatory.

You know, it’s not one of those Duchenne smiles where your face lights up.

It’s just that little.

For dudes, it’s sometimes like the chin jack.

You just kind of push your chin out or you raise your eyebrows because you don’t want to be too familiar because you might be sending, you know, romantic signals that you don’t mean to, you know.

And the same for anybody.

You just kind of got to be careful that it’s like, I see you.

I know you’re human.

I’m a human too.

Bye-bye.

That’s all you’re saying.

You’re just smirming.

I mean, it sounds like smurf too, I guess, but, you know, smirm.

I like it.

Smirm.

Okay, maybe.

I could grow on me.

Do you have a better word?

Let us know.

877-929-9673 or send us a tweet.

We’re at WayWord.

Thanks to senior producer Stefanie Levine, editor Tim Felten, and production assistant Rachel Elizabeth Weisler.

You can send us messages, subscribe to the podcast and newsletter, and catch up on hundreds of past episodes at waywordradio.org.

Our toll-free line is always open in the U.S. And Canada, 877-929-9673, or email us words@waywordradio.org.

A Way with Words is an independent production of Wayword, Inc., a nonprofit supported by listeners and organizations who are changing the way the world talks about language.

Many thanks to Wayword board member and our friend Bruce Rogow for his help and expertise.

Thanks for listening. I’m Grant Barrett.

And I’m Martha Barnette. Until next time, goodbye.

Bye-bye.