BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

…how to walk in high heels. Trust me, she knows… But, I suppose I should back that up with an explanation.

Now, I have to begin with the fact that we are not talking about E K here. This is not to say that she doesn’t have the aforementioned talent, because she does, in spades. However, in this particular instance I am waxing poetic (as you will see) about another young lady.

As you all well know, I travel a fair bit for book tours and the like – that much is a given. And, during my travels I see things. Sometimes they are frightening, sometimes they are strange, sometimes they are interesting, and sometimes I have no clue what the hell I am witnessing.

And then, there’s Leg Girl.

The Legend Of Leg Girl began several years ago on a weekend trip to Nashville, Tennessee to do a book signing and seminar. My dear friend and fellow author, Tish Owen, also owns a bookstore called Goddess And The Moon. I’ve done several signings there, and I always have a blast hanging out with her, her clientele, her husband Patrick who is my cigar smoking and booze drinking buddy, and all of my other friends there in “music city”.

Well, as the true story goes, one Saturday night after spending the day presenting a workshop on writing, and then signing a mess of books in one of the meeting rooms at the shopping mall across from where Goddess and the Moon was then located – it has since moved – we were going back to the store for a bit of a soiree. Wine, beer, booze, cheese, crackers, munchies, etc. You know the drill. Folks were going to come by, visit, have books signed, get a photo op or two, and all that jazz. Typical book store event sort of stuff. A great chance to just chill out and relax.

Unfortunately, the day had been so hectic for poor Tish and her staff that she had not yet had the opportunity to go pick up the aforementioned noshing items and beverages. Since I had nothing to do between finishing the seminar and the start of the soiree, I volunteered to ride along with Tish and help with the toting, lifting and other such stuff at the grocery store. And so, off we went…

No more had we pulled into the parking lot and begun our search for a space than out in front of us steps “Leg Girl”… All of mid twenties, great hair, hourglass figure, and most prominently on display a set of legs that a Rockette would sell her soul to have. And, I do mean prominently on display, for you see, this entire package was wrapped in nothing more than a sheer blouse, blazer, flared miniskirt – and I do mean MINIskirt – and patent leather stiletto heeled pumps. This was despite the fact that we were at the end of November and the temperature was in the mid forties or thereabouts.

And no, she was NOT a figment of my hormone driven imagination. Tish saw her too. In fact, Tish saw her so well that she was infuriated…

Allow me to explain. You see, Leg Girl literally stepped right out in front of us and began to slowly saunter up the middle of the aisle in the parking lot. Not to the left, not to the right. She was smack dab in the middle of the lane and Tish was unable to get around her. And saunter Leg Girl did. Slowly, deliberately, and swaying with a rhythm that would bring any red-blooded heterosexual male to his knees.

Well, suffice it to say, I had no room on the floorboards in order to get on my knees, not that I didn’t try. Still, even though I was unable to assume the appropriate position of Goddess Worship, I was mesmerized. Tish, however, was most assuredly not. Somehow, and I don’t know how, through my hypnotic stupor I was able to recognize this fact and managed to persuade Tish not to run over Leg Girl – trust me, that took some doing because that was exactly what Tish was intending to do.

Ever since that day, Leg Girl has been a running joke between Tish and me. Every time she books me for a gig at the store, or at PUF, she asks if there is anything special I need, and I always reply, “I need Leg Girl to be my handler for the weekend.” (“Handler” as in liaison / gopher / assistant… Let’s keep it clean here folks…)

Fortunately for me, though always promised by Tish – followed by a healthy chuckle, of course – Leg Girl has never materialized for said duties. Not that I would complain, however E K probably wouldn’t be particularly excited by it. In fact, I’m not really sure which one of us she would kill first…

But anyway, the Legend Of Leg Girl kind of… well… ummm… the legend has legs so to speak – no pun intended. Really. Seriously… But, pun or no, the events of that evening actually inspired a lyrical parody, written by yours truly.

Maybe someday, if we happen to have someone on site who knows all the chords to the original song, I’ll get drunk enough to perform this ditty at PUF…

Leg Girl

(To the tune of Two Hangmen by Mason Proffit)

As I rolled into Nashville with my friend her name is Tish

I saw what I’ll relate to you and it was quite a pretty dish

It seems there was this woman, who had this pair of gams

They went all the way up to her neck, and that’s
where it began

The woman’s name was Leg Girl, the best that I could see

She like to show her legs off, and that’s okay with me

I guess she saw me coming, and donned that mini skirt

And stockings and stiletto heels just so she could
flirt

She walked across the parking lot, right down the center aisle

She swayed and sauntered like a dream, it really made me smile

She stopped a moment in our way and then she tossed her hair

The wind picked up and her miniskirt billowed with
much flair

The driver’s name was Tish Owen, she said this bitch is slow

I’m gonna run her over now if she doesn’t start to go

I said to Tish please don’t do that, I really like this sight

She went to all this trouble so just let her make my night.

The wind continued blowing and gave Leg Girl a goose

She moved a little faster now, but still shook her caboose

Tish was laughing hard at me, as I began to drool

Leg Girl was such an awesome treat that made me
act the fool

Tish finally found a parking space and pulled in with a squeal

Leg Girl was going into the store on teetering high heels

We followed along behind her, and then she disappeared

But I saw her again as we checked out, with a case
or two of beeeeeeeeeeeeeer…

(Chorus)

And she’s my Leggggg Girrrrrllll, there in Tennessee, and that don’t bother me, at all-all-allllll…

And she’s my Leggggg Girrrrrllll, there in Tennessee, and that don’t bother me, at all-all-allllll…

(Repeat Whole Bunches Of Times)

One more time!

And she’s my Leggggg Girrrrrllll, there in Tennessee, and that don’t bother me, at all-all-allllll…

And she’s my Leggggg Girrrrrllll, there in Tennessee, and that don’t bother me, at all-all-allllll…

More to come…

Murv

…What You Think It Means.

Yeah… Another Princess Bride reference, and I’m not even talking about “Mahwage”. How cool is that? After all, Inigo Montoya was one of the best parts of that whole film and the aforementioned snippet of dialogue has become even more appropriate today than when the movie was made.

Allow me to explain what I mean…

If you are reading this blog, you probably already know that I make my living with words. If you don’t know this, then let me set the record straight –

I make my living with words.

– There. Now we are all on the same page (LOL)… The truth is I’ve always been fascinated by words. They are what made me become an author in the first place. They are what prompted me to begin reading at an earlier than generally “normal” age. I simply cannot get enough of them.

And, because of my fascination with words I am well aware of the mutations some of them go through because of regional dialects, changes in society, people thinking they are being “cute”, plain ignorance, or sometimes because the speaker in question can’t seem to decide which word to use.

This is why we now have the “Urban Dictionary.” Honestly, I much prefer “sniglets” to “word urbanization.” Sniglets are funny while having a morphed meaning. The majority of urbanized words, to me at least, are completely unnecessary.

For example, I had a friend – ha ha, very funny… Yes, I still have plenty of friends, but this particular guy moved to a different part of the country and I don’t see him anymore – Anyway, I had this friend who, whenever he thought something couldn’t be done, would say that it wasn’t “fausible” (Fah-zih-buhl) – obviously a blending of feasible and plausible.  Two words with similar, but not exactly the same, meanings. Honestly, this grated on my nerves something fierce, probably because he said it all the time, but I could see some humor in it because at least it sounded funny.

Such is not the case with quite a few of the “urbanized words” I’ve come across. Truth is, they sound just like the original word, but look like they are misspelled. To me that does not convey a blending of two words to create a new meaning. It simply looks like the person who wrote it is either woefully uneducated, just plain lazy, or both – especially in this day and age with anything and everything having a built-in spell checker.

Now don’t get me wrong. Typos happen. I am good for quite a few myself. But, intentional misspellings, that’s a different story. If I do that, I do it to be funny, and I offset the word with quotes or italics. But, I digress…

As I’m sure you already guessed, I ran across a blatant incidence of this very recently. But, as you also may have guessed, this blog isn’t actually about the word in question. It’s about a different word.

You see, I came across this particular blight on the English language via a Myspace friend request. The individual was flying an anti-Obama poster as his (or so he says) profile pic. It was the “Obama as the Joker” thing that has been going around. Now, as you all know, Obama wasn’t my choice for President, but then neither was McCain. I actually wrote in Evil Kat. Yeah… Seriously. But, that’s a whole ‘nother blog, and doesn’t apply here.  So, while I thought the pic was in poor taste, I wasn’t about to cast aspersions on the person’s political views. That’s a personal choice and everyone is welcome to their opinion. However, the point is, said Myspace person was using this as a profile pic and it had this egregious misspelling on it. I probably wouldn’t have said anything if it weren’t for the fact that the misspelling didn’t really change the meaning of the word as was intended. The “Urban Dictionary” claims this bastardization to have a blended definition but the reality is the original root word would have conveyed the supposed message much better, and it wouldn’t have looked stupid.

So, I pointed this out when I accepted the friend request. Now, granted, I didn’t use smiley faces and LOL’s, but I wasn’t nasty about it either. I just noted that a spell checker might be a good idea. Still, I’m willing to concede that instead of rushing through my email and responding with a one liner perhaps I should have sent a longer note explaining that while I realized what was trying to be said, it might come across better a different way, LOL Smiley Happyface Grin No Offense Meant HAPPY HAPPY.

But I didn’t. And for that transgression I received an interesting response. That reply is what this blog is actually all about:

Now, I’ll be honest. Upon reading this my initial reaction was the desire to reply with a rebuttal explaining that while to err is human, attempting to convey sentiment with gross misspellings didn’t qualify as beautiful, it actually fell under the heading of looking like an ignorant schmuck.

However, I did not do that. I spent a few minutes ruminating over the fact that I probably could have pointed out the errors in a different way had I not been so rushed, and thought to myself, “Hey, maybe I should go apologize to this person.”

So, I clicked the mouse a time or two and surfed on over to this person’s Myspace page. And there for everyone to see, was this:

I read the tag line. Then I read it again. Then I went back to my email and read what had been said. Then I went back to the page and re-read the tag line. I refreshed the page. I cleared my cache and refreshed the page. I rebooted my computer and cleared history, then surfed over to the page yet again. Why? Because certainly someone who had just recommended I “try humility” wouldn’t have a tag line like that, now would they?

Just to be certain I wasn’t having a senior moment, I checked the dictionary – the real one, not the urban parody – and found this:

No change as far as I could tell. Apparently humility still meant what I thought it meant.

However, I do not think it means what the misspeller thinks it means. And, given the situation I really don’t find that inconceivable at all. However, I won’t keep saying it, even though it means exactly what I think it means.

For the record, I did not send the note of apology. Obviously it wouldn’t have mattered…

More to come…

Murv