cunning babies vs. ducky babies

It was one of those mornings when I get dressed and I'm ahead of schedule and I think I'm pretty cool, until I'm on the way out the door and I realize that I have no idea where my keys are and it occurs to me that I might not be as cool as I'd hoped. Later, when I'm halfway to Waltham and it's begun to rain for real and I realize that I forgot my umbrella -- it is then readily apparent that I'm not anything like cool.

Wussing out of a muddy mile and a half walk (and soaked books, and an unhappy velvet jacket -- what possessed me to wear that?), I took the bus back to Harvard Square, and ducked into Newbury Comics "to get out of the rain" (which, when I'm not lying to myself, means "buying that Polyphonic Spree album"). From there I proceeded to Davis Square, and McIntyre & Moore -- funny how record shops and book shops seem to offer me the best possible protection from the weather. By the time the sun had (sort of) come out, I was well into a pot of mango black tea and a pile of used books.

I've recently decided to collect dictionaries. I can't afford any of the ones I really want; I think a full set of the OED will have to wait until I have achieved financial stability and own a house in which to keep the whole thing. (That'll be my wedding registry: everyone can give me one volume of the OED.*) So I've decided to collect obsolete reference books instead: old style manuals and slang dictionaries, with special priority given to works that have no practical application whatsoever.

Today I purchased Wilson Follett's Modern American Usage: A Guide (New York: Hill & Wang, 1966), which purports to be "grounded in the philosophy that the best in language... is not too good to be aspired to," and H.W. Horwill's A Dictionary of Modern American Usage (London: Clarendon, 1944), which sounds like the same thing, but "confines itself to what is; it is not concerned with what should be." The former rails against the proliferation of "Germanisms" in the language, clarifies the distinction between momently and momentarily (have I ever heard anyone say momently? was that a word in 1966?), and other grave errors:

sake, for its own. This phrase harbors an ambiguity that has led some critics astray in their efforts to popularize the disctinction between the practical and fine arts, or more especially between communicative and so-called pure art. When a "purist" critic says that he listens to music, not in order to follow a story or titillate his emotions but for its own sake, he successfully suggests that he is pursuing a nobler course than his neighbors and doing proper honor to the high art of music. But a moment's reflection shows that for its own sake cannot refer to music, which, not being a person, has no sake.

...Whereas the latter is less judgemental, and more of a guide for British readers who want to make sense of the American dialect. Circa 1944, of course.

cunning. In Am. this word often lacks any idea of dexterity or slyness. It is a common term of endearment, applied esp. to children and pet animals of small size. 'What a cunning little baby!' is the Am. equivalent of the Eng. 'What a ducky little baby!'

Davis Square, Somerville. The ceiling of the Someday Cafe, with its two shades of endearingly godawful blue.

Harvard Square, Cambridge. Anyone can get decaf or a flavor shot, but only English speakers are allowed a moment to themselves. Everyone else is shit out of luck.

*This remark is a pretty sure sign that no one will ever marry me.

Comments

[Terry]

I'll have pics of the Polyphonic Spree up soon. They took us to church. The band even managed to surpass the Flaming Lips in terms of sheer exhumberance. And surely, I'm not the only person to ever entertain thoughts of marrying you. And we never even met.

[El Macho]

Forgive me, Christine, for while you would top my (admittedly lengthy) list of brides, I am forever married to my disarming good looks and my uproarious playboy lifestyle. Which reminds me: who're you doing tonight (you get one guess)?

.~El Macho~.

[oboreruhito]

Marry her all you want, but I'm going to sweep her off her feet with this simple bit of clever: _duckylingus_.

And I've got dibs on getting a year's subscription to the OED online for the registry. DOUBLE SNAP!

[gus]

omg it is way too late for me to be posting this but when I was little in Maine and when my little sisters were just born Mom used to get all excited because the old Maine ladies would come up to us in the strollers and say "a'n't she cunnin! God luvva!" (god is pronounced "gowad" and luvva means "love her") further proof that maine is awesome because it is behind the times.

[Kathleen]

My grandmother still says "cunnin'" all the time. It's mostly applied to things which are both clever and cute. Squirrels are very cunnin'. Unless they're eating fom the bird feeders.

[Gwynne]

This is amazing - the OED List Price on Amazon:

List Price: $3,000.00
Price: $895.00
You Save: $2,105.00 (70%)

They make it sound like such a steal. Perhaps it is.

[sushiesque]

It probably is. But note that it doesn't qualify for free shipping.

[Terry]

There's an Amazon distribution center in Lexington, KY. I'll see if I can pick it up there then I'll drive it up. : ) Shipping costs suck!

[katya]

Actually, you should demand that the OED be included in your marital partner's dowry. I think that's a pretty good sign of compatibility, at any rate.

[Terry]

Next you're going to say that she should try to contact, ie date, one of the people that wrote an online review of the OED @Amazon. haha

[El Macho]

Sweet Christine-
I tiled the floor with my 20-volume the other night, just to see. While it is not the most comfortable mattress one could wish for, IT CERTAINLY SERVICES. I hope you're game.
Illicitly-

El Macho

[Gwynne]

A dowry? That's a brilliant idea! I'm going to tell my suitor that he can't marry me unless he brings 3 healthy cows and an embroidered camisole to the deal.

Incidentally, my parents got their gi-normous Unabridged Webster's Dictionary as a wedding present...

[kate]

that's brill- the OED as a wedding gift. Can you buy it by the volume? That would work well. Folks can buy their favorite letters. *swoon*

I've always like the Someday Cafe- even before I visited it, since it was the name of an album i liked. The wonderfully horrible blue ceiling just cinched it.

[Kathleen]

I highly endorse the condensed OED. All the words, more shelf space for other books. Be sure you get that magnifying glass, though.

[Terry]

I must be tired; I could've sworn the pages of the book above actually flipped.

[R.]

Kathleen-
Yeah, my compact OED is easily the coolest thing I own. (You mean the microprinted one with nine pages to a page, right?) What it lacks in badass volume it makes up in badass small-printedness, and you get the light-up magnifying glass and the guide to usage. As graduation gifts go, it kicks the crap out of a car.

[gabe]

Not being a coffee (or tea) drinker, I have only had the cookies and brownies at the Someday Cafe, which are sub-par at best. I'd reccomend Diesel across the way there, which has delicious mint brownies AND the best hot chocolate drink I've ever had (namely, the Tuck's Turtle).

[sushiesque]

Gabe, as I recall, just watching *you* consume one of those turtle things was enough to make me love Diesel.

Someday's great, though -- I can spend $1.85 on a pot of tea that lasts long enough to get some substantial reading done.

[gus]

Folks, from experience, I would seriously warn against combining one's cunning linguism with relationships. Case In Point #1: Jessamyn said she would marry a man who could beat her at Scrabble. Marriage turned out horribly. Case In Point #2: Evan took to giving me successive volumes of the Dictionary of American Slang for birthday and christmas presents and we broke up and til today I keep wondering wtf is up with American slang after the letter O.