"Foppotee". A simple-minded person.

(I'm late on the September assignment...see my previous post. It didn't dawn on me until after I finished to set this story in an Irish pub. Even the picture below is from my recent trip. But I was too lazy to rewrite it.)

A man walked into a coffee shop unaware that a book signing reception was in progress. Looking around, he recognized no one. Course he wasn’t from the area so why would he recognize anyone. The coffee shop was a-buzz with activity – people eating cheese and crackers, sipping wine, a violinist playing a cello in the corner (the cello player took sick), chit-chatting and – drinking coffee. In another corner there was a stately, middle-aged gentleman signing books. The author. The man walked up to the author and, noticing a few hundred books stacked on the table, grabbed one and paged through it.

"This your book?" asked the man.

"Yes," confirmed the author. "Would you like to purchase one? I'd be happy to sign it for you."

"No thanks." Uncomfortable pause. “What’s your book about?” asked the man.

“Growing up in Cambridge, Wisconsin.”

“Cambridge? Never heard of it,” said the man.

“It’s near Madison,” said the author. He returns to signing books.

Odd, thought the man. He imagined anyone could write a book about their childhood, particularly if they grew up in an interesting place. But Cambridge, Wisconsin? Never heard of it.

The man stated, "Now...if you had written about your life growing up in Madison, I might have found that interesting."

The author smiled. "But I didn't grow up in Madison. I grew up on Cambridge."

"Yes," said the man, "so you've said."

Madison would have been much better place to write about, the man thought to himself once again.

The author asked the man, “If you'd like some wine or cheese..."

“No thanks,” said the man.

“Well - enjoy your visit,” the author said and returned to signing books.

The man nodded at the author - and stood there for a few seconds. “Foppotee,” said the man to the author.

“Excuse me?”

“Foppotee,” repeated the man.

“What does that mean?” asked the author.

The man stated firmly, “Foppotee.” He paused. “Foppotee, foppotah.”

The author sat there dumbfounded. He chose his next words carefully. “You’re a simple-minded person, aren’t you?”

The man stared at the author. It's not known whether the man was staring at the author or staring through him. It made no difference.

“Foppotee, foppotah.”

Then the man turned, walked out of the coffee shop as quickly as he had entered it. The author stared at the door for a few seconds then returned to signing his books.

“Foppotee,” he muttered under his breath.

Chiasmus Corner

Have you ever been intrigued by John F. Kennedy’s famous quote, Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country? Perhaps you are familiar with the late great Mae West’s observation, It’s not the men in my life, it’s the life in my men! If so, then you have already been introduced to two examples of a chiasmus. Once awakened to these chiastic phrasings, it’s almost impossible to become unaware of them. They await discovery, whether it be a line in a book, a motto, a lyric line, part of a comedian’s routine . . . or absolutely anywhere and everywhere a lover of language might leave a mark.

It's not having what you want, It's wanting what you've got - Cheryl Crow, Soak Up the Sun lyric

When the power of love conquers the love of power then the world will know peace. - Jimi Hendrix

Where there is Peace, there is Culture; Where there is Culture, there is Peace - Nicholas Roerich

You don’t have time; time has you! - George Carlin, Phoenix performance, 1978

I often tune in to a long-running radio show on my 6 a.m. weekday morning commute where a daily call-in contest is featured. A new weekend evening talk show on the same radio station, hosted by Bob Earley, invites the public to share their views on various topics of interest. Bob has already attracted a strong following of regular callers. Recently, the host of the morning show, Stan Piatt, urged his own listeners to try and win the contest by stating, You don’t have to be an Earley star-caller to be a star-caller early!

For more chiasmi visit www.drmardy.com. There you’ll find genius wording entertained by an entertaining word genius!

Feel free to post chiasmus discoveries from now on - under the heading of Chiasmus Corner!

Curmudgeon

Grandpa seemed to have the richest vocabulary in all the world. His love of words added a richness to his conversations and he created the world's best puns. He talked about places with sylvan glades and fruits called kumquats and referred to himself as an old curmudgeon. I believe the word 'curmudgeon' is in need of saving and it was brought to mind when I was at market. There was an old man with a green apron selling potatoes. His body reminded me of a big bean. Two teens walking lightly in white sneakers filed by his stand holding cans of coke. He yelled, "Coca Cola is not good! Coca Cola is not good!" I had some pieces of candied ginger in my pocket and I offered him one after he talked a long while to me about his 500 acres of land and his asparagus/potato farm. He'd never tried ginger before and he asked me what it was and I told him it was a root. Someone corrected me: no, it's a rhizome. (I still think its a root.) Somehow the conversation turned to Nepal and the old man didn't know where that country was and he complained about his plastic bags being too chintzy for the price he paid. When he opened the sliding door of his white van there was a tumble down pile of small waxy potatoes, dusty red potatoes, and buttery oblong potatoes in blue mesh bags. He told me that happily potatoes store up for one year. I watched him break the steady stream of customers to waddle over to the pastry shop and come back with a huge profiterole with chocolate icing in his mouth. The people just kept lining up to buy his potatoes. Was it because he'd been selling potatoes (and asparagus in spring) for thirty years? Or was it that twinkle in his eye? He brought to mind the word curmudgeon, a word on it's way out and which officially means: a bad-tempered, difficult, cantankerous person.

Lip-smacking Lardlet Lunacy

Greetings my dear friends and faithful readers; I am oh so excited about this month’s Culinary Q & A because I received a question that brought back a delicious little nugget of goodness back into the forefront of my mind. I've abandoned my usual three question format in order to focus solely on what I believe has been a forgotten ingredient in many a kitchen. With the winter months just around the corner, I have been turning my attention to warm rich comfort foods more and more. Apparently, so has reader Hans, who wrote:

Q: Geir, I love a good pot roast, but no matter how hard I try, the meat always turns out dry and bland. What can I do to keep the roast moist, juicy and succulent?

A: Thanks for the question Hans. Now, the first thing to remember about pot roast; the meat must not be prepared in a speustic fashion. It takes time and great care to cook a moist succulent pot roast. So, if your thinking you can throw a roast in the oven at high heat and it will be perfectly cooked in thirty minutes; well, you should probably think about having something else for dinner. But any culinary advice columnist could tell you to cook the pot roast low and slow and move on to the next question; but this HomeLife magazine, and I'm Geir Ragnar, and I know you've come to expect more from us.

The answer in preparing pot roast perfection lies in a luscious little morsel of pork fat goodness called a lardlet. Now, those of us who have ever popped open a can of baked beans or pork and beans have seen lardlets floating around in the sauce; but few have actually seen or used them in other applications. The pot roast, my friend, is another is another dish that benefits greatly by the use of the lardlet.

For those who may not know, a lardlet is a small piece of bacon that is put into a dish to enrich it with fat. As we all know, fat equals flavor, but the lardlet also enhances the pot roast by keeping it moist and providing it with just a hint of smokiness. The end result will provide your meat with a depth of flavor and richness few have had the pleasure of experiencing in a pot roast.

September Topic

Language has been around for awhile now. I can't be bothered to check, but I know it's at least since the 1920s because that's when the last book I read was written. Anyway, such is the case and as can be expected, words come and go like the standards of the written word.

The job this month is to do your part in saving the words that are on their way out. Head to Save the Words and pick one out that calls to you in one way or another. Take this word, extract inspiration from it, and write something around it - narrative, memoir, haiku, sordid tale, whatever. You might use the word for a title, theme, adjective, it doesn't matter, so long as you use it in some capacity. Just be sure to let us know what word you chose and what it means.