Something weird is happening to my vocabulary: slang from my mother's generation is creeping into it. I have no idea why this is happening or what's going on here, unless I'm slowly being taken over by aliens who are still translating radio waves from the 1930s. Neat-O!
No, seriously. Last Friday I was at the bar at Broadways waiting for my friends J & S to show up for our usual Friday evening Ladies Drinking Circle meeting. J got there and she was wearing a nice top - therefore, because I am a nice person, I complimented her by saying, "That top is just as cute as the dickens!" This caused my other friend J, sitting next to me, to more or less fall off her barstool in laughter. And I got all flustered because, for chrissakes, the dickens?!? Where did that come from? Why am I suddenly turning into my mother, at Broadways of all places, where my mother would never, ever go? What the hell is the dickens, anyway, and why is it a good thing? If it's a reference to Charles, shouldn't it be more, like, "That top is just as bleak and heartbreaking as a cute orphan starving in the 1830s London snow"?
If only it stopped at the dickens, I could maybe get away with it. But no, more is creeping in. I've caught myself referring to a whole lot of things as crummy, lately. I don't think anyone besides my mother has used the word crummy since 1956, but there I am, driving down Patton Avenue and saying to my son, "Well, my phone is just crummy" which makes him turn sideways and stare at me in bemusement. And then there's nifty. I actually said nifty the other day. Naturally, I've said crummy more than I've said nifty, because let's face it: more stuff IS crummy than nifty. A sad fact of life, but true.
The dickens. Crummy. Nifty. This has gone way too far. I had better grab up some hella more modern slang, fo shizzle, or I'll look all, like, totally gnarly and dated. And we wouldn't want that.
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1 comment:
Well bless my britches! So I'm not the only one starting to talk like it's 1946.
I just go with it when my favorite old timey expletive "Hell's bells!" pops out. That was my Dad's favorite.
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