Category Archives: A words

Adjust

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjust (v): alter or move slightly in order to achieve the desired fit, appearance or result

“Adjust” is to “evolve” what “wisdom” is to “intelligence.”

In other words, if you’re waiting for our species to evolve to more enlightened places or to grow gills so we can swim in the ocean, it is likely you won’t be around for the experience.

So I don’t know why people even TALK about evolution. After all, the best we can do is adjust. Not evolve.

Having been a fat man all my life, I find that it’s impossible for me to evolve into a slender fellow. I work very hard to make sure that my children are not carrying the destructive tendency of obesity, but for me, everything is about adjusting.

  • Adjusting my food choices.
  • Adjusting my calorie intake.
  • Adjusting some exercise into the mix.
  • And also adjusting an awareness of my mortality so I can keep a sense of humor about my prospects.

So while the rest of the world discusses the theory of evolution (which none of us actually can see unfold within our own lifetime) what we should be fostering is the art of adjusting.

What have I adjusted to in my lifetime?

In my lifetime, blacks and whites have become equal. They weren’t before.

In my lifetime, women have been allowed to discuss their rights without ridicule.

In my lifetime, we have made adjustments in medicine, to learn how to control conditions that used to kill people in a very few short years.

In my lifetime, gas has gone from 39 cents to $3.90 cents a gallon.

You see, not ALL adjustments are pretty, nor are all of them proven to be historically necessary. But we do the best we can.

And hopefully, if we continue to believe in free will, creativity and keep a sense of good cheer about ourselves and others, our adjustments may just take us to the passage that will not only help us understand ourselves … but begin to embrace the heart of God.

Adjure

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjure (v): to urge or request someone solemnly to do something. e.g. I adjure you to tell the truth.

I have been part of discussions that started out in a desperate attempt to remain civil, often by using fancier language and cautious terminology. I’ve even heard people who were trying to convince me of the error of my ways tell me that they “adjure me” to consider another option.

The end result, in my experience, to those ventures in civility are that they eventually break down and people start slinging their hash instead of sipping their wine and nibbling their cheese.

Now, I DO understand the importance of humane treatment and respectful dialogue. But if you put a cork in a bottle and the pressure builds up, the cork can explode, impaling a near-by victim.

We have to be careful when we go into a situation with great feelings of animosity and bruised emotions, that we don’t merely put off the avalanche of misgivings by trying to build a safety net.

This actually makes things worse. Let me tell you what turns a simple conversation into a heated discussion and ultimately causes it to degrade into a nasty argument.

1. Unrealistic expectation. If people are mad, they’re mad. Setting rules for the dialogue only makes them madder.

2. When we try to hide our true sensations behind words like “adjure,” we end up coming across as condescending. (“Well, I guess I didn’t expect you to understand, given your situation.”) Condescension is what changes a normal conversation into a heated discussion.

3. Abandoning the subject. Once we feel someone has been condescending to us, the leap to rampaging usually occurs when we completely abandon the present subject, to attack the other individual personally. It can be bringing up the past, pointing out a foible that you’ve never mentioned before, or just attributing to the partner in conversation a series of assertions that he or she deems to be lies.

So how can we resolve a conflict without becoming either “hoity-toity” or turning the situation into an episode of The Fight Club?

My suggestion is this: don’t let moments pass.

If something occurs to you NOW, say it. By the time you share it later, it is completely blown out of proportion. Also, in the first fruits of frustration, we are more pliable about being wrong than we are when our hurts and pains have fermented in our brains.

Always keep in mind that big, unusual words–terminology grabbed to express supremacy–are usually received as an attack on the intelligence of the hearer.

You don’t have to agree with that, but I think when you let the sun set on your anger, you always wake up in the morning … certain that you’re right.

Adjunct

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjunct (n): a thing added to something else as a supplement rather than an essential part

I think it’s misspelled. It would be so much easier to understand if the word was “addjunk.”

Really, that’s what we all do. We add a bunch of junk to our lives as we journey, convincing ourselves that it’s priceless, only to spend most of our time shuffling it around from place to place, even though it is inconvenient and infrequently used.

About ten years ago I came to the realization that the only power in getting older was in being smart enough to travel lighter. I had so much unusable, often unrecognizable material hanging around me, like unwanted relatives stopping in for a loan, that I was often baffled as to whether there was enough space for me to live and breathe.

It was stupid. I had added so much junk to my human trailer that I was beginning to resemble white trash on my way to NASCAR. (This is not to say that ALL people who go to NASCAR are white trash. I speak by permission, putting into practice comedy, and quite bluntly, the law of averages.)

So what did I do? I started giving away everything I had not used in the previous sixty days. It was astounding–because things that I did not view as worthy of a two-month connection were valuable to others around me–sometimes even a life saver. I looked generous.

Now, I wasn’t really generous. It was a practical move to make sure there was enough oxygen in the room for me and my necessaries. In no time at all, I had grown lean and mean, and at my fingertips were all the goodies that I preferred, which by the way, were much easier to locate since they weren’t hiding under the freeloaders.

The second thing I did was I decided to live. Now I’m not talking about sucking in air or planning a shaving and bathing schedule.

If I wanted to do it, if it was practical, fruitful and in the spectrum of my abilities–I just did it.

Is there anything worse than people who are aging, who both lament getting older and also constantly offer regrets about their lack of accomplishment?

Shut up. It’s addjunk.

It seems that many people over fifty have only used their time and energy to practice becoming professional complainers. Here’s the key: give and live.

Give away everything you don’t need and live out what you want to do, and in the process find out if it was worth tackling.

I realize that to some degree this essay has nothing to do with the definition, but you can take that up with my boss.

(Ha, ha. I don’t HAVE a boss. I gave him away … so I could live.)

Adjudicate

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjudicate: (v) make a formal judgment or decision about a dispute

Courts freak me out.

I suppose there are very few people, except lawyers who make $750 an hour, who find them appealing. I guess a judge might enjoy the atmosphere, since he or she gets to wear the robes. But if you’re not making the bucks or not getting to judge, that particular arena can seem like the Coliseum in Rome on a lions-chomping-Christians mid-afternoon.

I sometimes think about the fact that even though I am a law-abiding citizen, toeing the line and trying to be faithful to my responsibilities and as honest as I can possibly be, I do realize that if someone had a vendetta against me, they could probably dig up something which could be misconstrued as criminal.

Isn’t that weird?

Sometimes in life, it’s not the piss in the pot that gets you in trouble, but rather, who you piss off.

About seventeen years ago, I took three children into my home. They were going through a rough time with their father, who certainly had some difficulties and struggles, and was not treating them up to par. I thought I was being generous. Damn–I thought I was being Christian. I thought I was helping a lady out, who was being abused, and her children, who were being somewhat neglected.

But this fellow took the legal system and used it against me, making up stories and twisting situations to get those in authority to adjudicate against me, forcing me into a courtroom to explain my actions.

As his lawyer sat in that room accusing me of everything except the Kennedy assassination, I realized how fragile we all are, and how we should never become so arrogant as to believe that our actions could not possibly be viewed as questionable.

So even though this gentleman was proven to be a charlatan, I still had to go through a grilling process which made me empathetic to a two-inch sirloin steak.

So what is my point?

None, really.

It’s just that legalities are filled with so much legalism that no one could ever escape if the law was determined to get them.

That’s why I tip my hat to policemen, stay away from downtown areas where there are lions sitting next to lots of steps in front of courtrooms, and I try to keep all of my disagreements simple, discussed and resolved.

Because if I ever started being adjudicated … I don’t know how well I’d hold up.

 

Adjourn

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjourn: (v.) to break off a meeting, legal case or game with the intention of resuming it later. e.g. the meeting was adjourned until December 4th.

The key to organization, which by the way, is the breath of successful life, is to get your ducks in a row without making everybody around you go “quackers.”

In other words, be efficient without being a jerk.

This is my problem with Parliamentary procedure. For when I think of the word “adjourn,” I recall all the meetings I have attended, which have basically consisted of children trying to act grown-up by following some archaic procedure of rules and regulations which end up being the conversation of the room instead of working on the topics themselves.

Quite bluntly, in that atmosphere, the person who seconds the motion and whether they have seconded a motion before instead of waiting in line, or whether the vote was taken before discussion, becomes much more important to the committee than whether they pass resolutions.

Thus, Congress.

The thing that upsets me about our form of government is that we’re much more concerned about maintaining the traditions of our system, tipping our hats to old-fashioned methods, than we are about whether progress is being made and we’re actually addressing situations before they slap us in the face.

I usually don’t pontificate on this issue because I don’t have an alternative.

I do understand if we don’t have SOME sort of order while considering options in a meeting place, that chaos can quickly become the ruler of the day. But I am not convinced that following the rules of Parliament (which by the way, isn’t even American) has anything to do with the general welfare or the common good.

What should come out of a meeting?

  1. All ideas expressed within a time limit.
  2. Those who are uncertain of facts should be able to question them.
  3. A vote–up or down.

That’s it. The quickest, easiest, friendliest and most human way to achieve that should be pursued with great passion.

I’m just not sure that all of the rules and regulations that we follow like a herd of sheep is doing anything but fleecing us of possibility.

So for me, I’d like to adjourn Parliamentary procedure.

Can I get a second on that?

Adjoin

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter AAdjoin: (v.) to be next to and joined with (a building, room or piece of land). e.g. the dining room adjoins a small library.

If you are not accustomed to traveling on the road and you find yourself normally perched in a domestic nest, one of the greatest thrills in life is checking into a motel room. Now, if you want to highlight that experience even more, go with friends and get adjoining rooms.

It is a phenomenon of the hotelier industry–placing a door between certain enclosures, allowing for free flow, creating one huge space. Thus, adjoining. It transforms your simple Motel 6 into a Motel 12.

After a few hours, it does become a bit annoying, though, because:

  • If you leave the door open, sounds from the other room, including laughter, can float onto your side, and if you step over to find out what’s so funny, the moment has passed.
  • Or the television from next door is so loud that you can barely hear yours, and you find yourself trying to follow the plot of two shows–one at a distance.
  • Or you take the option of removing your pants and sitting in your underwear, and then you realize that the door is open and your neighbor could suddenly appear and view forbidden turf.
  • But if you go over and close the door, you become known as “the guy who closed the door,” creating an unnecessary mystery about what you planned to do. And understanding the imagination of human beings, that could be anything from shooting a porn video to starting a meth lab.

Matter of fact, as I think about it, adjoining rooms seem to have more problems than positives. So why do I remember them so fondly?

I think it’s the rush of the first few moments when you arrive, and realize that you are on vacation … adjoined with really good friends.

Adjective

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjective: (n.) a word or phrase naming an attribute, added to or grammatically related to a noun to modify or describe it.

Sometimes I grow exhausted living in a “verb-and -noun world.”

Adjectives are those words inserted into our lives which prove that we actually give a damn. For instance:

“This is my wife.”  Dull, right?

“This is my beautiful wife.” Just adding the adjective “beautiful” means that I care enough to explain that the woman with me is not merely a flesh-and-blood appendage, but someone who possesses attractiveness.

“This is my intelligent friend.” The word “intelligent” triggers the notion that I am about to meet someone of ilk and knowledge.

Adjectives are the words that God created to keep us from becoming boring.

              “How are you doing today?” my neighbor asks.

              “Good,” I reply, completely terminating further communication.

I know that many people think being laid back, limited in words and tight-lipped is a way of sharing that you are simple and free of complication. It is also a style which telegraphs that you don’t have much going on in your cranial cavity and your emotions have been drained of all juiciness.

I like adjectives.

Of course, they can be overdone. A simple rule is to never use an adjective to be an adjective to an adjective. In other words, two adjectives in a row are not only unnecessary, they are verbally incestuous.

But without them, we don’t really have any way to tell people how valuable they are to us, or of sharing with God how glad we are that He has come … to modify our lives.

Adjacent

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjacent: (adj.) next to or adjoining something else.

It was a big chunk of three-story, square brick building, sitting right in the middle of our little town, holding within its confines a trio of completely unrelated businesses. The only thing they shared in common was that they were adjacent to one another.

The building looked like it had been constructed by about forty-five Amish men with only a break for lunch in between bouts of mortaring. It was simple.

My parents’ little loan company was located in the center, with a hardware store to the right and an optometrist‘s to the left. Our eye doctor fellow only showed up two times a week, driving in from Columbus to take care of the bespectacled in our community.

The hardware store was always open, but never busy. As a boy I often wondered how they stayed in business. It seemed the only commerce was the pop machine in front of the store, which was frequented by everybody on the block, since such contraptions were a bit of a rarity at the time.

Directly across the street was the town green, wherein sat another brick-chunk building, dubbed The Public Library.

For many days and in many ways, this little parcel of business and commerce was my stomping ground, playground and home, as I patiently waited for my parents to finish the dribble of business they did, often loaning money to people in our burg for anything from motorcycles to stud bulls.

Beneath this massive construction was a basement that connected all three businesses, and when I y worked up my courage, I went down to the spider-web-infested terrain, hoping to discover some treasure I might be able to sell, in order to acquire enough coinage to stroll up the street and visit the local Five and Dime for treasures often beyond my comprehension.

The town was so small that actually, everything was adjacent to everything else. And like so many pieces of my life, the older I became, the more it seemed to shrink and become insufficient to my expanding boundaries.

But Samuel’s Hardware and Bremen Optometry will always be in my mind the quintessential definition of adjacent.

Adirondack Chair

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adirondack chair: (n.) an outdoor wooden armchair constructed of wide slats. The seat typically slants downward toward the sloping back.

If anyone asks you, Panama City Beach is very sunny in the first two weeks of March, but icy cold if you decide to sit anywhere near the ocean. (Just a little travel tip from the well-seasoned vagabond.)

The reason I can share this is that I rented a cottage near the Gulf one year, to spend a few days writing on my first novel. It sounded so romantic and exciting, with a bit of wild abandon thrown in for good measure.

This was before computers and word processors were portable and could be taken out into a thatched-hut cabana for creative purposes, so I was using an old manual Royal typewriter. The little machine was quite quirky, having a nasty disposition which caused it to occasionally refuse to register the “e” key. I didn’t care. I was a writer–and I was near the beach, transforming my thoughts into storyline.

Three things immediately came to the forefront:

1. Manual typewriters were invented in hell, to the devil’s glee–especially when you’re sitting out in a cabana with the cold wind blowing through, icing your fingertips. Now, I might agree that a certain amount of pain is necessary to stoke the furnace of composition, but I draw the line at frostbite.

2. The second problem was that my cottage was much warmer than my workplace, so my mind kept floating back to the grocery provisions stocked in my refrigerator, the television set sitting idly by, awaiting my return, and the room heater that took away the chill and made me toasty. So to keep from going back to being the non-creative lump considering the virtues of daytime TV, I would frequently step out of my cabana into the sunshine and perch myself to thaw out in one of those Adirondack chairs which peppered the surrounding sand. Thus, my third problem.

3. The first time I sat in the chair I was fine, because I didn’t allow myself to get comfortable. But the second time, the sun was so warm and glowing that I leaned back into the chair, sliding into that slope described in the definition, and I dozed off. When I awoke, I tried to rise to my feet to go back to my writing, and I realized that my posterior region seemed to be a perfect fit into the slat at the bottom of the back of the chair. I had wedged myself there–seemingly, permanently.

I and the chair were one.

At first I laughed, thinking that if I just wiggled or squirmed, I would be able to free myself. But no. In a matter of moments, terror gripped my soul. Try as I may, I was unable to unplug myself from the chair. Should I scream for help, only to be emotionally damaged for the rest of my life if someone actually had to uncork me? Should I stay there, hoping that after a few days, weight loss would trim my backside?

For some reason, it occurred to me to do the twist. Remember that dance? You wiggle your hips back and forth like working a hula hoop. It took about fifteen minutes, but finally my left cheek freed itself, and then, by brute force, I was able to rise to my feet.

I have never sat in one of those chairs again.

I’m sure for normal people, who do not have a rear end that parks quite so well, they are absolutely comfortable and adorable.

For me, they are ... the quicksand of furniture.

Ad infinitum

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Ad infinitum: (adv.) again and again in the same way forever. e.g.: registration is for seven years and may be renewed ad infinitum.

I’ve never been particularly impressed with the word “forever.”

To me, the weakness of eternal life is that it’s eternal. I guess the miracle of God will be His ability to explain how something that goes on and on can escape being repetitive, and therefore, boring.

This has caused me to be able to do my occupation as a vagabond artist. While others in my human family find it comforting to know where they’re going to be a year from now, I feel no sense of compulsion to dance about in the ballroom of security.

Insecurity seems to be a bad word, when actually, life itself is geared to be such. Guarantees are few, promises are many, sameness is unusual, but pursuit of identical results is universal.

Somehow or another, the key to life is not in looking for anything that lasts forever but to forever look for things that are lasting, but changing.

That seems to be a contradiction, doesn’t it? How could something be lasting AND changing?

There’s a little phrase in the Good Book that says, “Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever.” Kind of makes him sound like a Grandpa, clinging to his Beatles albums.

But actually, the way Jesus is the same is that he’s constantly and faithfully evolving toward meeting human need.  And since we are going through a similar process, being creatures of the earth, he has to have a lot of mercy and a lot of good humor in order to embrace our foibles.

I don’t need forever.

Matter of fact, sometimes I think the things we want to last for a lifetime are unrealistic.

  • I don’t require a lifetime guarantee on my muffler.
  • And perhaps even marriage would be better if we renewed it every ten years.

I don’t know–such decisions are reserved for individuals much more intelligent than me.

But ad infinitum is not necessary for this pilgrim. All this pilgrim needs is some turkey, dressing, a little gravy … and some cranberry sauce.