On boots and bars and motorbikes...

Surfing the state and national headlines last weekend I happened upon a word I’d never seen before, applied to squirrels, of all things, all over Texas. Curious, I clicked the headline, which carried me to a story, written originally for the San Antonio Express News but republished in the Houston Chronicle, about how in this miserable oven setting otherwise known as “today’s temperature” – a weather anomaly that’s been with us for half of 2022 now – even the squirrels were employing an all-new method of beating the heat. They called it “splooting” and because I’ve never a big fan of squirrels (tree rats, mostly) and this sounded something like a child might tell Mom after she hears a loud boom from some back corner of the house (as in “I didn’t do nuthin: It just sploded, all by itself”), I eagerly clicked ahead to the image gallery. To my disappointment, none involved any rodents spontaneously combusting (though that would’ve been kinda cool, you gotta admit). Rather, it showed ...

Hearing about all the words that get added to a language has become almost commonplace in our world of social media, Wikipedia and mile upon mile of online apps and spellcheckers that make things like a big, fat, well-worn dictionary almost a thing of the past. Which is sad, really. I’ll probably be buried with mine (to make I sure something heavy keeps me from wandering off, no doubt). Because along with helping you know when to use role vs. roll and provide handy definitions, there’s truly no end to many uses a good dictionary comes in handy with. Like leveling a sofa, perhaps, one that’s missing one of those footie jobbers underneath, or chucking at varmints that always seem to wind up in places they shouldn’t. They’re make swell booster seats/step stools for toddlers. And I can’t think of a better tool to employ when waking that snoozing student who’s about to miss the best part of your lecture. What’s far less common then even dictionary users are the lists of words that nob...