Category Archives: A words

Adieux

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adieux: (n.) from Old French, another term for “goodbye.”

I think it’s the whole “another term” thing that bothers me.

We all know people who think they’re extraordinarily clever by coming up with a new word, new phrase or new angle on saying or doing something that is common to the crowd. They insist on spelling it “ketchup” instead of “catsup.” They will argue with you that the pronunciation is unique and obvious.

I don’t like it when people go into foreign languages to express a word–greeting or departure–that is not their own tongue–and is one of seven words they know in that other language.

Thus, “adieux.”

When you look at it in the context of the dictionary, it seems fascinating. When you speak it aloud it is pretentious.

“I bid you a fond adieux.”

Such a person is a prime target for de-panting, mocking, gossip or alienation from the Bingo tournament based upon the various ages in his or her life.

I think we have to be careful not to be TOO common, so as to make ourselves invisible, yet not choose to become so bizarre that people avoid us for fear that we’ll have a psychotic break at any moment.

I think that’s why the word “common” and “sense” go SO well together. It is a decision to join the human race while being willing to learn how to run better.

That would not be “adieux.”

I must warn you–if you ever use it around me, I will smile, connoting to you that I found it intriguing, only to laugh at you … when you sashay from the room.

 

 

Adherent

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adherent: (n.) someone who supports a party, person or set of ideas e.g.: he was a strong adherent of the single pay system of health care

Glue is sticky.

This is irrefutable. Matter of fact, if it’s not–sticky, that is–it really can’t be called glue.

When I see the word “adherent” I think of the word “adhere”–being STUCK to. At the risk of being considered a weirdo, I must tell you: I don’t adhere to much.

Here’s why: things change.

And even though folks around me stump and stomp for their causes, within a generation we have usually changed our minds, thus becoming unglued. So I’m not quite sure what the initial purpose is of gluing things down–if you plan to rip them up later.

  • Does that make me wishy-washy? Oh, no.
  • Does it make me a flip-flopper? Not exactly. I’m not really a flip-flopper if I warn you that my flip may flop.

There are three words I believe are important when pursuing our dreams and getting along with other human beings. They are visionary, follower, and adherent.

When it comes to faith I am a visionary. I think it is impossible to please God or yourself without occasionally taking a chance on something that looks like it has potential for blessing the world around you.

In the realm of hope I am a follower. I see no reason to turn to someone who is struggling with cancer and covets my prayers, and tell him to buck up and get ready for the end. Hope can be dangerous if it’s the only input you allow yourself, but if hope if a decision to relieve the torment of worry, allowing your faith a chance to work, then it can be pure gold.

And the only thing I can truthfully say I am an adherent of is love. Love is anything whatsoever that encourages life, forgiveness and acceptance. For that I would be an adherent.

So I think you have to decide when you want to be a visionary, using your faith; choose moments to tap your hope by becoming a follower of those who are standing against the odds, and always be an adherent when love appears on life’s menu.

I am comfortable with that.

Love is the glue … the only sticky stuff which is able to hold us together.

Adequate

Words from Dic(tionary)

Adequate: (adj.) satisfactory or acceptable in quality or quantity.dictionary with letter A

 Five steps to building a loser (for after all, they ARE manufactured, not born):

  1. Teach him or her that they were born special and unique. (For if you’re going to fail and not measure up to the standards set around you, you need to be able to forgive it by mentioning your individual genetic configuration.)
  2. Tell him or her that all they have to do is their best. (Being human, our best is eventually defined as the amount of energy we are willing to expend at any moment on any situation.)
  3. You should also tell them that they deserve praise for just trying. (Addicting people to praise is leaving them to believe that they’re going to be able to acquire the drug on the street. They won’t.)
  4. Let them know that excuses are the same as apologies. (Can we make this clear? An excuse is the opposite of an apology. An excuse is asking someone to understand why it was completely impossible for you to achieve the goal. An apology is an admission that the goal needed to be achieved, and unfortunately, you fell short.)
  5.  And finally, communicate to him or her that everyone wins. (Matter of fact, print certificates of participation, place gold stars on their sheet or make sure the pizza party planned for the winners is diluted by including everyone who lost.)

We live in a world where we honor people who train, excel, pursue and win the prize.  There is usually only one.

Contrary to Mr. Webster (or Ms., so as not to be sexist) adequate is not satisfying. Adequate is also not acceptable.

Adequate is when people inform us that they don’t believe we can do better. It is why we will not put up with an adequate doctor, an adequate plumber or even an adequate person washing our car.

What we expect from others we need to apply to ourselves. Since we know there is no reward for the first mile and blessing only in the second mile, how could we ever think we should be applauded … at the half-mile mark?

Adept

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Adept: (adj.) very skilled or proficient at something: e.g. he is adept at cutting through red tape; an adept negotiator.

Beware of titles that require follow-up.

I often come across individuals who want to quantify my abilities or value by assessing names or positions to my talents. We all are tempted at times to tout our value by putting some sort of signature on it, which is supposed to communicate our qualification or aptitude.

  • Lieutenant
  • President
  • Senator
  • Manager
  • Father
  • Mother
  • Principal
  • Reverend
  • Husband
  • Wife

Well, the list goes on and on–an unending collage of words that are supposed to scream out our uniqueness, so people will give us respect in the foreground before they check too much into our background.

Matter of fact, without these accolades, we sometimes feel that we’re just human beings, God forbid. But when we insist on such bravado in front of others, we take away the element of surprise, which allows people to surmise our lack of worth based upon our appearance, only to be proven wrong by the tally at the end of our endeavors.

Sometimes I don’t even like it when people ask for a resume. I always hated it in a job interview when the question was posed, “Tell me a little about yourself.” An impossible inquiry. If you stumble or act humble, people will say you lack confidence. If you go on and on about your personal achievements, you certainly will flirt with arrogance.

Yet for some reason the human race is convinced that carrying our “blue ribbons” to the starting line is confirmation that we will win the race.

The beauty of life is also the most frightening part. For after all, what I did yesterday is worth very little if I plan on screwing up this morning–and calling me by some regal proclamation only increases the pressure or takes away any praise I might achieve by exceeding expectation.

Am I adept at things? Probably. But I will never tell you.

  • Tell someone you’re adept at writing and they’ll critique your paragraphs.
  • Adept at love-making? God help you.
  • Adept at comedy? Be prepared for the audience to stare at you, waiting for the funny.
  • Adept at parenting? Watch your neighbors scrutinize your children very carefully.

“Adept” is one of those American words we use to attempt to impress before we actually perform. Sometimes it’s just better to shut up, do the best you can and surprise everybody when you actually have … some game.

 

 

Adenoids

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Adenoids: (n.) a mass of enlarged lymphatic tissue between the back of the nose and the throat, often hindering speaking and breathing in young children.

I was only ten years old so the significance completely evaded me.

Our family physician was named Dr. Livingston. To me it was just another name, not a literary setup, so when Dr. Livingston looked over his silver spectacles and told my mother and father that I needed to have my tonsils removed–otherwise I would have tonsillitis any time it was rumored to be in the area–they agreed.

They were further delighted when he told them that while he was in there yanking out the little boogers, that he might as well take my adenoids, too. It was common at the time. Tonsils were apparently so emotionally linked to adenoids that it was a given in the medical field that if you took one you had better remove the other, too, or fussiness would ensue.

Dr. Livingston? Tonsils and adenoids, I presume?

My father, being raised in a miserly German home, was excited because he felt he was getting two operations for the price of one.

So I was sent to a clinic in the big city twenty miles from our little burg, and was prepped for surgery. This was long before anethesia was perfected. It was actually barely beyond the phase of a shot of whiskey and a punch in the jaw.

What they used to put you under was ether. Now, let me explain what ether smells like. It has a distinctive odor. Imagine if a bottle of alcohol let off a big, stinky fart.

There you go.

So after they had removed my co-dependent organs, I awoke to the smell of this nasty “stinky” in the air, to spend the next hour-and-a-half doing nothing but trying to regurgitate all of my insides for public view.

About two hours later my stomach finally calmed down and they told me I could have some nice, cool Jello. (I had heard rumors that ice cream was the normal gift given to a patient, but apparently I ended up at K-Mart Presbyterian Municipal Hospital, where budget cuts were inserted to extract all pleasures.)

Unfortunately, the flavor they chose for my Jello was cherry.

When my mother and father wanted to go out and catch a bite to eat, they left my older brother in charge. The cherry jello by then had landed in my stomach, was introduced to the raging ether, and was immediately evicted. So when I threw up my cherry jello, my brother was convinced that I was bleeding to death. He ran through the halls screaming for nurses to come and save me.

The comical part (as if it isn’t already) was that it took the nurses at least ten minutes to figure out that what was in my bed pan had the unmistakable fragrance of Kool-aid.

Things went back to normal–if you call being ten years old, in a hospital, losing your tonsils and adenoids, vomiting profusely, with a maniac for a brother, only room for Jello and without the benefit of an ice cream confection … anywhere near normalcy.

Address

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Address: (n.) the particulars of the place where someone lives or where an organization is situated.

150 Letts Avenue.

That was my first address. It’s where I grew up. We were a family of seven living in a two-bedroom house that was less than twelve hundred square feet. In most cases, that would qualify us for subsisting in the third world.

But in Sunbury, Ohio, it was my home. And when you’re a kid, you don’t spend a lot of time considering social status, closet space or the particular drape of a curtain. You just get by.

If you do it right, you spend more time outside, where the square footage is only limited to the amount of panting you can tolerate following a sprint.

My friends had bigger houses–what you might call a “better address.” Interesting phrasing. They also lived on Letts Avenue, but their parcel of land yielded more prosperity. But we didn’t look down on each other–at least, I don’t think so. There may have been parents in the neighborhood who told their kids not to play with me because I was “Little House Johnny,” but I was not aware of the slight.

Since then I’ve had many addresses. Big, small, bathtubs, showers, dishwashers… even swimming pools.

Presently I don’t have a home address because I’m traveling. This causes some folks to shake their heads and smirk as they comment on my “gypsy lifestyle.” But all in all, home is where you hang your hat. At least, that’s what they say.

But if you can’t afford a hat, I guess home is just where you hang.

As I look back on it, I had great fun on Letts Avenue. Even though all the moms and dads were concerned about money and prestige, the kids were concerned about snacks and play. Maybe that’s what happened to me. Maybe I never grew up.

Because I am certainly, to this day, more concerned … about playing and snacking.

 

Addled

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Addled: (adj.) confused and unable to think clearly (often humorous).

So what is the difference between addled, comedic, pitiful and hilarious? I guess it would be whether people laugh or shake their heads in disbelief. For after all, in order for confusion to be funny, we have to believe there’s some way that clarity could have won the day.

There are actually  many addled things in our society that do NOT evoke a smile:

Listening to Republicans and Democrats debate an issue which they don’t understand but still have developed a rock-solid conviction about is not a source of gaiety. It teeters between baffled and frustrated.

Going to a religious service to hear the mispronouncing of two-thousand-year-old names and locations, as people donned in robes insist that bread and wine purchased at the local grocery store has supernaturally transformed itself into everlasting life, is not exactly what I would call the “joy of the Lord.”

Even though I appreciate that the dictionary considers “addled” to have humorous overtones, watching your grandparent misplace his or her keys for the fortieth time this week does lose some of its charm.

I think we have a responsibility, at all costs to the human tribe, to avoid appearing addled. Matter of fact, there are times I am reluctant to ask others to help me look for something or remember something, but instead choose to find a nice, comfortable, cushy chair in my soul and relax there until memory serves me.

Yes, sometimes it’s better to shut up for fear that your brain has already been closed for repair.

Addled is not cute–and if you’re over the age of thirty-five, if you accidentally become disoriented in front of anyone younger than yourself, they will attach Alzheimer’s to you.

Politics and religion are argued because no one knows one way or the other, but everyone insists they have the answer.

So that’s addled–when you run across a mystery and you’re positive that Mr. Plum did it with a candlestick … in the conservatory.

Additive

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Additive: (n.) a substance added to something in small quantities, typically to improve or preserve it: e.g. many foods contain chemical additives.

I am an additive.

I have never been the main substance or the primary focus in my entire life.

I have come upon a political system where I neither fit in nor agree and can only disperse granules of my feelings into the concoction.

I am part of a religious system which is encumbered by its own lack of essentials, and I attempt to stir in my flavor and saltiness to produce a better brew. But is there a vanity in proclaiming that my additive will make it a better brew? I don’t know that for sure.

For instance, when making a cup of coffee, since I don’t really care for the “squeezing of the bean” in the first place, I find that I prefer the additives to the original concept. In other words, creamer and sweet ‘n low are to my taste, whereas I tolerate the coffee.

Let’s be candid. I am not alone here. Anyone who tampers with the “original black gold” is admitting that the additives are possibly more appealing than the caffeine blend.

What would we do without additives (although they certainly have a bad reputation)? Matter of fact, we like to advertise that our particular rendition of something is “pure” because it’s free of additive.

Our politics is completely Republican, with nary a nod for the teeming masses.

Our Democratic Party is one hundred per cent liberal, castrated of ANY conservative values.

We will not allow additives, so as to make sure that we are offering the purest product possible.

So you see my dilemma. I am an additive. I come along and try to sweeten, smooth, flavor, enhance and even color the broth of humanity, to make us all more palatable to each other.

Purists must hate me.

Those who like a good mug of joe probably despise my artificial sweetener.

I don’t care.

Additives in and of themselves are not evil as long as they don’t give you cancer or take away the power of the original concept but instead, make it more palatable. They are not only precious, but I will go so far as to say–necessary.

We could use some additives:

I would like a little courtesy with my human interaction.

I would like a bit of smile with my faces.

I would like a dose of humanity with my spirituality.

And I would like a little spirituality within the Politick of the Body Earth.

So being an additive, I am an advocate of such inclusion. Just make sure it won’t kill you … and it just might bless you.

 

Addiction

Addiction: (n.) the condition of being addicted to a particular substance, thing or activity: e.g. an addiction to gamblingdictionary with letter A

Being mortal, flawed, and yet inexplicably granted intelligence, I often find myself wanting to attribute all negative vices to others while retaining virtue unto myself. It is one of those conditions in the human race that we often refer to when awkwardly explaining our inadequacy or even calloused behavior. In other words:

“You’re addicted. I’M passionate.”

“You are disemboweled and disenfranchised by your actions. I am in the pursuit of diverse choices.”

Sometimes the best way to assist others is to find similar difficulties in ourselves. For instance, I don’t understand why people want to put a stick of tobacco in their mouth and light it up, setting their lungs ablaze. They are probably just as baffled about why I continue to eat when the meal is already completed. Yet I would be willing to justify MY actions as “harmless” while condemning theirs as evil.

No one in this society will ever be able to have mercy, and therefore grant finance, to aid those who are addicted until we are willing to admit the addictions that have crept into our own activities and our willpower.

Candidly, I don’t eat because I’m hungry. So when I see an advertisement on television, explaining how some pill or exercise will curb your appetite, I just laugh.

  • I eat for kicks and pleasure.
  • I eat because it comes to my mind that there is some food in the refrigerator yet unconsumed
  • I eat for entertainment.
  • I eat for reward.

In so doing, I allow food to dictate some of the policy of my life. It is the definition for addiction–at least in my opinion:

If any activity begins to put together your personal calendar and you find yourself shifting your efforts in favor of those choices, then you’re probably dealing with some form of addiction.

There are three things necessary to take care of addiction:

1. A climate where confession is greeted by appreciation instead of judgment.

2. An understanding that willpower is never enough without the support of others.

3. Failure is inevitable, success is rare and the race will go to he who endures to the end.

Addiction CAN be beat, but it will do well when the dictionary does not tie it to drugs and gambling, but instead, points it out as human selections of all sorts … gone awry.

 

Adder

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Adder: (n.) a small venomous Eurasian snake that has a dark zigzag pattern on its back and bears live young. Also called VIPER.

I just think it’s rather weird.

I am pretty sure that we are taught–or maybe a stalwart portion of our culture is instructed–that most people are deathly afraid of snakes. Even folks who will pick up a cockroach or fiddle around with a praying mantis will usually shirk at the possibility of handling an adder.

Don’t you think that’s curious? I suppose if there was a nine-month-old baby crawling along, the little tyke might go over and try to pull on the tail of the reptile, but I’m not quite positive THAT’S true. We seem to have some sort of innate dislike for snakes.

Does it have anything to do with some of the spiritual tales told in holy books? Is it just the way they look, as they slither from side to side?

I’m not sure.

But even when I see them in the zoo, which is often in a rather dark environment, I don’t really desire to stay too long, peering at them, especially if they’re moving behind the glass. Certainly there is a small handful of human souls who are in charge of taking care of these creatures, who have developed the ability to come across as functional, if not fearless.

But there is something mystifying. It seems that the more prehistoric a creature appears, the more frightening it is to us. I guess we’re more accustomed to those specimens which have evolved in our span of time.

It’s not that I’m saying that lions, tigers and bears are not equally as intimidating–it’s just that those animals don’t make our skin crawl as much.

I would love to join in a discussion on this with some people who are smarter than me, to see if there are any sociological, psychological or even spiritual aspects to this trepidation.

But I probably won’t do that.

I probably will just choose to keep my distance from the adder … even though I think being called a viper is really cool.