An Inventory of Illegitimate I Words

An itty-bitty installment of Almost the Dictionary: The Almost the Truth™ Dictionary of What Words Ought to Actually Mean: A Lexicon for Parallel Thinkers.

ICE (acronym)  -  Intentionally Cold Environment

Icecap (n)  -  Cooling headwear for those hot summer days

Idealist (n)  -  Casino employee who works at the blackjack table

Ideate (n)  -  The eighth in a series of fake identities

Identical (adj)  -  Having exactly the same ticklish teeth

Idiomatic (adj)  -  Being utterly foolish or senseless independent of volition; involuntarily stupid

IDIOT (acronym)  -  Independent Dude Incapable Of Thought

Idol (clause)  -  Statement of self-awareness by Barbie^®

Ineffable (adj)  -  So physically attractive as to be completely out of one's league; "You'll never sleep with her. For you, she's ineffable."

Ivory (clause)  -  "You either let us insert this tube in your vein, or give us a good reason not to!"

Almost On The Road Again

Number 471 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 greatest songs of all time was written by Willie Nelson specifically for his movie, Honeysuckle Rose.

The rumor is that it took him practically no time at all to scribble out the lyrics. Judging from this transcription of the first draft, it doesn't surprise me in the least that not a lot of time was put into it.

On the road again

Just can't wait to eat a big toad again

The life I love is cookin' roadkill with my friends

And I can't wait to get on the road again

On the road again

Findin' possums in a garbage bin

Eating things that I may never eat again

I can't wait to get on the road again

On the road again

Like a band of gourmets, we clean up the highway

We're the best of friends

Downing stacks of cats that we found our way

And our way...is on the road again

Just can't wait to scrape the road again

The life I love is cookin' roadkill with my friends

And I can't wait to get on the road again

On the road again

Cookin' armadillos on a red-hot manifold

We're the best of friends

Makin' raccoon sauce that's nothin' if it isn't bold

And can kill a cold...on the road again

Just can't wait to eat a big toad again

The life I love is cookin' roadkill with my friends

And I can't wait to get on the road again

And I can't wait to eat from the road again

A Handful of Hinky H Words

A non-heaping helping from Almost the Dictionary: The Almost the Truth™ Dictionary of What Words Ought to Actually Mean: A Lexicon for Parallel Thinkers.

Habaneros (clause)  -  "Laughter shuts down libido."

Haberdasher (n)  -  A person who is in a hurry to sell hats

Habit (n)  -  1. A comedy routine; 2. A funny mouthpiece of a bridle

Habitat (n)  -  An indelible skin-marking of one's home

Habituate (n)  -  Laughter based on what a female dog consumed

Hack (v)  -  To secretly break into a taxi with an ax

Hacksaw (n)  -  A cabdriver's amazement

HAD (acronym)  -  Held At Dawning

Haddock (adj)  -  Previously owned a pier

Hysteria (n)  -  A buffet belonging to a male

My First Kiss

'Twas the fall of my Freshman year of high school. I had been cast as Jonathan Harker in Norwell High School's production of Dracula.

It was a leap of faith for the director. My previous stage experience was as the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz in 8th grade. To go from that light, comic romp to one of the main protagonists of a dark, horror story...well...I must have just been a better reader than the others at the auditions. 

I certainly didn't LOOK like the groom-to-be of a fair maiden who succumbs to a bite from the Count. At the age of 14, I didn't look like much of anything except a 14-year-old.

Topping off my list of concerns about the role was the presence of a scene in which my character kisses his fiance. Up until that time in my life, my kisses had been reserved for my mom, my gramma, and my dog.

The first time we rehearsed the scene, my co-star immediately jerked away, wiping her mouth and saying, "You don't have to slobber all over me!"

I was in desperate need of some real-life experience.

Enter the Older Woman, a curvy Junior with a slight overbite who sat with me on the school bus. We talked and laughed and secretly held hands on those bus rides...and I was convinced that this fine young woman, who I had nicknamed Sam, would soon fulfill my need.

The opportunity for me to be educated in the ways of the smooch presented itself one evening when Sam gave me a ride home from some event. We pulled into the circular drive of my homestead. Sam put her car's gearshift into Park. She turned slightly toward me. I turned slightly toward her. I thanked her for the ride. She leaned forward. I leaned forward. Somehow, our lips found each other.

The entire known universe dissolved into oblivion and I could feel absolutely nothing except the soft warmth of our lips pressed together.

And like a fool, I quickly said goodnight, practically stumbled out of the car, and rushed into the house, like some silly co-ed in a 1961 beach movie.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

"If you could go back in time and tell your younger self one thing, what would you say?"

Woah! What's your hurry? Get back in that car, young man!

If You're Desperate and You Know It Clap Your Hands

It's funny how a song's musical style and emotional feel sometimes have nothing whatsoever to do with its lyrical content.

When you listen to the 472nd greatest song of all time, "Where Did Our Love Go?" by the Supremes, you may be tempted to clap your hands or move your feet...it's that kind of a bouncy, obviously-1964ish  pop song.

It's also a sad, desperate tale of abandonment.

Baby, baby

Baby don't leave me

Ooh, please don't leave me

All by myself

I've got this burning, burning

Yearning feelin' inside me

Ooh, deep inside me

And it hurts so bad

You came into my heart (baby, baby)

So tenderly

With a burning love (baby, baby)

That stings like a bee (baby, baby)

(Ooh baby, baby)

STD?

Then again, maybe the constant overuse of the word baby isn't coincidental.

Now that I surrender (baby, baby)

So helplessly

You now wanna leave (baby, baby)

Ooh, you wanna leave me (baby, baby)

(Ooh baby, baby)

Men can be such jerks.

How Will You Be Remembered?

There's nothing like a spring-time walk through a cemetery to help you feel alive.

(Can you say, "Neener neener!"?)

But it can be a sobering stroll, too. Consider the tombstone pictured here...

You've got to feel at least a little empathy and/or sympathy for Dian, and for at least three reasons:

     1.  She became a widow at the age of 52.

     2.  Her parents didn't know how to spell her name correctly.

     3.  While her husband, Randall, will be remembered as a woodworking craftsman, she will be forever immortalized as a number-cruncher. 

Or, perhaps, a cheese grater?

Aretha in Need Is a Franklin Indeed

Hey, fellow-babies, this is Dr. Dewey Fever comin' atcha loud and strong with Rolling Stone's 473rd-greatest song!

The Queen of Soul is making her first appearance on the countdown with a little ditty The Doctor had never heard before called "Do Right Woman, Do Right Man."

Now, at first listen, your musical physician figured this was a standard "treat me right and I'll treat you right" kind of song. I mean, dig this lyric:

Yeah-yeah they say that it's a man's world

But you can't prove that by me

And as long as we're together baby
Show some respect for me

Solid stuff, right? (And by the way, let's go ahead and get used to hearing the word respect from Aretha, because THAT song'll be showing up quite a bit higher on this list.)

But when I pulled up an actual copy of the words for this slow groove, it became clear that Mother Franklin is stepping WAY outside the norm.

The very first verse starts out inside the box...

Take me to heart and I'll always love you
And nobody can make me do wrong

...but the second half sounds a warning that the guy better not ignore:

Take me for granted leaving love unshown
Makes will power weak and temptation strong

And if there's any doubt in your mind what she's being tempted about, just listen to the chorus:

If you want a do right all day woman

You've gotta be a do right all night man

In other words, if you expect me to cook your food and clean your house, then you better be, in the words of Bernie Taupin, "wreckin' the sheets real fine."

Men...can you say "performance anxiety"? Booger!