Years ago, part of my training at a major coffee retailer was to understand coffee as a process -- how it went from bean to that seemingly essential liquid that many of us need to get through any given day. From its early harvesting, as a bean from a plant, or (ew) as digested material from an animal that had eaten the beans from the plant, it went through several steps until it became the processed grind that is now the root of all lattes.
I wondered on a semi-regular basis who had come up with these steps and how: at what point did someone say, "hey, let's take this mountainside bean, dry it in the sun, sort it by size, color, weight, origin, then mash it up, then put it in not-quite-boiling water for a certain amount of time, then add cow juice and sugarcane, then ...." Coffee's been around a long time -- how did it go from something chewed on as a stimulant to being combined, in its liquid form, with caramel syrup and whipped cream?
The process evolved over years and years, from the first guy who experimentally gnawed on a bean and found it made him feel more energetic, through many stages and many people later -- all the way to the eventual group in a conference room discussing the addition of pumpkin spice or peppermint syrup for the holidays.
Sometimes I feel that way about words. Lately in my profession, I see a lot of words that are simply not in any dictionary I have access to. People are making stuff up, changing the way words are used, making language evolve.
Admittedly, sometimes I get an education. Lost in Brooklyn on Sunday, we drove through some pretty sketchy areas. We wondered about "tenement". For the record, it's a 14th-century word. It's Middle English from Middle French from Medieval Latin, the Latin term "tenere" being the root, and meaning "to hold". "Tenement" came to mean "property held from one person to another". Last week I had to copy edit an historical romance, where one of the heroes complained of his "bastardy". Since "bastard" is still a fairly common term, you might easily derive the meaning: This is a 15th-century word, indicating the quality or state of being of illegitimate birth.
But what about more recent additions to our language? Here are three I've encountered:
Badassery -- this refers to when someone is tough, full of bravado and able to back it up with physical or psychological superiority. "His badassery was legendary: he could take on any guy in the bar with his right hand and win without even spilling the beer in his left."
Defecacious -- this term basically means one is full of feces, or the state of being a bullshit artist. "Dude, you are such a liar -- that's totally defecacious!"
Ballin' -- Now I know that some people will say this term has been around for a long time. It has; but it is the evolution of its usage that causes me to list it here. Rather than its implied sexual indications, the term is presently used as an adjective to mean something that's interesting, relaxing, or just great to be a part of. "It was a ballin' party, especially after they handed out the Jell-o shots."
In our house, we've recently made up one or two: There's "frenchtoastinated", which is the pleasant state of being after you've been served some delicious, hot, egg-battered toast, usually on a weekend, with or without syrup and butter or jam or cinnamon. This is similar to the joy of being "waffleinated", except it's better because you don't have to clean the waffle maker afterward.
I also sometimes use the word "shdrool", for which I must credit my ex-boyfriend Steve, who wore Capezios (so you know how long ago that was) and liked to name lobsters and let them "play" together on the kitchen floor before tossing them into a pot of boiling water and then serving them whole. I still have an aversion to eating anything in a shell, previously named Spike or Lucy, that might make me feel guilty about it by seeming to be looking at me, but I kept this word. It means, in essence, "extraneous stuff". He used it most frequently to tell me, when we got into his battered Mustang, "There's plenty of room for your feet if you just push the shdrool to the side."
Usually that "shdrool" involved discarded and smelly coffee cups.
So, language evolves and changes and adds on. What words have you discovered lately? What words have you just plain made up?
Addendum: I have been reminded, off-post, of the word "scrudja". I've asked my reminderer (yes, I made that one up, too -- take that, etymologists!) to give me his definition. But what do you think? Prize to whoever comes closest in a comment, and to whoever comes up with the most unusual guess.
Well, first of all, "scrudja" sounds eerily similar to one of the naughty words my Sicilian grandmother used whenever she was pissed off - though I suppose that would be spelled, scrudia - replacing the "j" with an "i" and thus placing the accent firmly on the "dia" part of the word so it hits you on the back end - kind of like a flying roundhouse. Beyond that, the only word I've made up - and I can't be certain I didn't steal it from somewhere - is turtle-ing. I can't even spell it. It means what you'd think it means - someone moving so slowly they're like a turtle. So they're turtle-ing. :-/ Sorry. That's all I've got... and yes,I have had a full pot of coffee already today... in case you couldn't tell.
ReplyDelete"Turtle-ing" is a fantastic term -- I will use it to describe most of the drivers in my town. Also getting child number two out of the car when she doesn't want to be somewhere.
DeleteI don't think "scrudja" is Italian, actually. But I love the way you describe that "roundhouse" effect! Thanks for commenting, Debbie.
A new word to me, though a very old one, that seems to me to be useful is UHTCEARE, an Old English word meaning to lie awake before dawn and worry. Happy are you if you have never awakened at 3 am and lain in bed uhtcearing!
ReplyDeleteI LOVE this word. How do you pronounce it? It happens to me all the time -- I just didn't know there was a name for it!
DeleteThanks for stopping in, Lil.
Funny, but “turtle-ing” makes me think of unsure early teens at a party: “Mary-Sue and Billy-Bob each took hesitant turns on the dance floor, only to quickly recede back to the wall and the safety of their personal shells.
ReplyDeleteAs for “scrudja,” it must be a blended word for the crud you scrape off of something, like when you’re cleaning a grille, or knocking off hardened mud from your shoes. I assume it comes from Middle-English, as the following quote from Maid Marian would suggest: “What ho! Robin! Thou art scattering scrudja upon mine father’s floor after thou hast traipsed through yon Sherwood Forest. Turtle-eth not when I speaketh to you! O! Thou of most basterdy behavior!
I have to admit I love your response, but unfortunately scrudja has nothing to do with crud. Creative, though :)
DeleteWell. No one has come even close to the meaning, and my reminderer doesn't want to supply it. However, Runner10k9 yours is the most inventive. If you e-mail me at lrcmadcity@yahoo.com with your contact info I'll send you something interesting!
Thanks for stopping in.