Category Archives: A words

Acoustic

Words from Dic(tionary)

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acoustic: (adj.) of music or musical instruments not having electrical amplification: e.g. acoustic guitar

  • It has to be fun.
  • It has to be humble.
  • And it has to be willing to learn.

Those are the three ingredients I think are necessary to make any adventure workable, enjoyable and realistic. Whenever any group of people takes themselves so seriously that they believe they’ve arrived at the apex of all understanding or the pinnacle of all talent, they are obnoxious and in some ways, dangerous.

This is true of musicians.

Music, which was meant to be a heartfelt explosion of joy, intimacy and emotion, has become, God forbid, a craft. And as craftsmen, we sit around and discuss the subtleties of the use of particular implementations which hold our delicate treasures together.

Thus the word acoustic.

So the rock band, which was once willing to admit “they only knew four chords and that’s why their music sounded the way it did,” pretentiously now does a documentary film, sharing their music acoustically instead of using electronic assistance. We’re supposed to stand back in awe of these cave men, who have discovered that there is some little world outside their enclosure, and mull over their genius simply because … “they’ve unplugged.”

I love music.

  • Music was God’s way of saying life should be tuneful.
  • Music was God’s apology for conversation.
  • And music is our way of expressing ourselves without insisting that the whole room listen to us pontificate.

So we should HUMBLY pursue it, realizing our limitations and ceasing to make excuses for our frequent bobbles.

But instead, we proclaim some people who compose to be “masters,” and everyone else mere “minstrels.”

So rather than enjoying the fact that other people have picked up our instrument and exceeded our efforts, we instead attempt to tear them down because they are not purists and don’t honor the traditions of syncopation or structure.

YUK.

I don’t care if you rock, jazz, square dance, hillbilly, rap or insist on Mozart. Be humble about it and have some fun. You’re not a better musician because you play an acoustic guitar instead of an electric one. It’s not a better auditorium because it’s acoustically adjusted to the high A-sharp on the first violin.

It’s supposed to be joyful. “A joyful noise”–remember that? So unless you plan on giggling and dancing, don’t come my way.

Acoustic set.

Somebody needs to take off the rubber nose and the big floppy shoes.

Acorn

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acorn: (n.) the fruit of the oak; a smooth, oval nut in a rough, cup-like base.

I decided not to look it up. You see, I found that my feeble attempts at trying to REMEMBER the old saying were much more comical.

  • I think it’s “Big oaks from little acorns grow.”
  • Although it could be: “little acorns make big oaks.”
  • I’m pretty sure it’s not, “Big acorns amazingly make little oaks.”
  • There is a chance it might be, “Big growth comes from little acorns which cause oak trees.”

You get the idea.

It’s one of those little slogans made up by people to take basically worthless objects and make them seem valuable. Here’s the problem with acorns–you can’t eat ’em.

No matter what else the acorn does, it is completely obliterated by the walnut, the pecan and any number of other similar nuts that end up in our tummies instead of our Book of Proverbs.

I do not know why some people can’t understand that value is placed on objects. Things that are lesser are sometimes just short-changed.

I became a happier man when I realized that every time I walk into a room, there are people in that enclosure who are smarter than me. I do not have to be equally attractive, equally intelligent or equally blessed with everyone I meet. And acorns just need to understand that the little cap they wear on top of their heads may be cute, but they’re just a hard nut to crack.

So … let me be the first one (or tenth one, depending on how far this has moved along) to say that merely declaring everything equal in quality does not make it so.

I think by creation and by mission, acorns are just as good as pecans. But until they come up with a way to transform themselves into a delicious pie, they need to understand that in my book, they are not promotable.

 

Acolyte

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acolyte: (n.) a person assisting the celebrant in a religious service or procession.

I make no judgments on traditional religious practices which I may or may not consider to be part of my lifestyle.

Yet some of the more humorous events have happened to me while watching young and old try to walk down to the front of the church and light the ceremonial candles.

We call them acolytes. They are usually young people who have been convinced they have been granted an honor by sitting through a couple of classes, hearing an over-explained description of an age-old process, which appears to be VERY simple until Sunday morning arrives and they are put in the position of being the fire-starters.

One of my favorite visions is the young acolyte wearing the ceremonial robe with a pair of dirty tennis shoes sticking out of the bottom. I won’t even go into the symbolism.

I recall being at one church and an acolyte came forward to light the candle, only to discover that his magic fire stick was not making connection with the wick. For some reason the thing would NOT ignite. So in a moment of humanity, he proclaimed for all to hear: “Aw, shit.”

Laugher ensued (even though I am sure folks sought absolution later.)

I DO like it when there is a hovering grown-up presence off to the side, nervously watching the youngsters go up to light the candles, like a mother hen concerned that the chicks will not know how to receive the nourishment of the grain being thrown by the farmer, breathlessly anticipating a fiasco–nearly apoplectic.

And of course, you can’t forget the acolytes who come forward dragging their feet, completely disconnected, barely able to get through the process before collapsing, exhausted, on the front pew designated for their position.

I know that the lighting of the candles is a symbolic portrayal of “bringing in the light of Christ” to our spiritual gathering. But like most human attempts to honor divine concepts, it is always laced with inadequacy, comedy and apathy.

I am not suggesting we should train and pay acolytes who are more professional in their approach.

But in conclusion, my favorite of all the events was when one of the deacons at a church realized that the trainee acolyte was having difficulty lighting the candle. The deacon ran up to the rescue, tried to light the candle himself using the apparatus, was equally unsuccessful, and so reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarette lighter, leaned forward to complete the job, had his cigarettes fall out of his pocket, bounce on the altar–and scatter all over the top of the prepared communion.

In the seconds that followed, you could sense the man’s horror. There were probably countless revelations about his character revealed through this single action–and speculation on whether it would be appropriate to remove one of his cigarettes from the holy goblet, nearly rendering him paralyzed.

At length he gathered up his smokes and retreated to his seat to languish in his humiliation.

Being an acolyte is another one of those rites of passage that you have as a young person, which older people tell you is very, very important–but no one ever really mentions … after their eighteenth birthday.

 

Acne

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acne: (n.) the occurrence of inflamed or infected sebaceous glands in the skin, characterized by red pimples, usually on the face, prevalent among teenagers.

There are so many things about acne that come to my mind that I barely know where to start.

I was not one of those people who had tremendous amounts of the skin infestation. There were people in my class in high school who appeared to have a face of acne, with occasional interruptions of real skin.

This was not me.

My face broke out around my chin and sometimes in my lip area, which was frightening enough in itself.

Somewhere around my fifteenth birthday, I became convinced that my lips were huge. Matter of fact, I would occasionally purse them when I was around young women for fear that they might think I had some Afrikaan in my ancestry. Not only was that thought bigoted, but also ridiculous when you saw my parents, who made the Pillsbury Dough Boy look like he had just come back from Jamaica.

But the thing about acne is, in a self-conscious era, an even more obvious and visible affliction is placed on you. For those who wonder if God is cruel or just has a bizarre sense of humor, the gift of acne to adolescents is an excellent example.

As a teenager, you have a self-consciousness which teeters on suicidal to begin with, and to be given a red rash all over your face, to accentuate your lack of attractiveness, might be the definition of cruel and unusual.

It didn’t help to be around adults. Adults fell into one of three categories:

1. Understanding. Now, this may sound promising, but to hear someone say “you’ll outgrow it” is like the Mama Alligator telling her young offspring that his tail will grow back after the truck ran over it and severed it. It may be true, but it’s not very comforting.

2. Remedy people. These are the adults who are positive they have the perfect solution to get rid of your acne. And it always has something to do with a medication that burns or smells like crap. Oh, and then when you smear it on your face and it actually makes the acne MORE noticeable.

3. Then there’s the third group, which was inhabited by my mother. These are the people who warn you that if you pick at your acne, especially in the area of your chin and nose, that you are in the part of the face which she referred to as “the fatal triangle,” and that you could infect yourself, send poison to your brain and die within minutes.

So as you can see, there is no hope for those who are young and afflicted by Job’s cankerous sores.

I guess the truth is, you do mostly outgrow it, even though every once in a while, I will sprout a pimple, even at my age. It does not make me feel young.

It just brings back memories … of “the fatal triangle.”

Acme

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acme: (n.) the point at which something or someone is best, perfect or most successful: e.g., physics is the acme of scientific knowledge.

NOW it’s even funnier.

As I reflect back on the Road Runner and Coyote cartoon, understanding the definition of “acme,” the little dramas portrayed onscreen between these two adversaries gain a new hilarity.

If you remember, the coyote was continually ordering some product to destroy the road runner and it  always arrived from the Acme Company. NOW I realize that Acme means the best. Top of the game. Highest quality.

Of course, the irony here is that these contraptions which the coyote used inevitably failed, backfired, and usually ended up squashing HIM into the ground.

Nevertheless, they were often quite intricate and cleverly devised, which is a lifelong warning to all of us–that putting ingenious products into the hands of imbeciles not only makes us question whether the invention was quite as clever as we thought, but also opens the door to these innovations striking back to bite us in the ass.

So it gave me pause for thought. Maybe my computer is REALLY perfect–just being operated by a hairless monkey.

ACLU

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

ACLU: (abbr.) American Civil Liberties Union

I’ve got it figured out. (Well, I probably don’t, but I thought I would begin this article without using the passive voice.)

EVERYONE is conservative.

That’s right. Everyone is trying to conserve something. And everybody who disagrees with what the other guy is trying to conserve believes that the other party is either a hick, an ignoramus, a pseudo-intellectual or a hippie.

All you have to do is mention the American Civil Liberties Union in a positive light, and you are already labeled a liberal. There is no such thing as a Republican who is an advocate of this organization. But if you read their charter, all the ACLU wants to conserve is the liberty and individual rights of every American citizen, with an emphasis toward honoring the sanctity of the freedom of minorities.

THEY want to conserve liberty.

Now, you find some organization down the road called the Family Research Center, or something of that ilk, and they are just as deeply convinced that they are divinely ordained to conserve morality. Now, the ACLU may not be nearly as concerned about morality as they are liberty, but quite honestly, the Family Research people are not nearly as concerned about liberty as they are morality.

You can see the problem. They’re all conservative, without realizing that they need each other. That’s right:

  • Liberty without morality is a train wreck right outside your front door.
  • Morality without liberty is a decision to build a dungeon in your basement for all the people you have decided are evil.

If we could learn to respect one another and listen to each other’s core belief, we might be able to meld into a strong unit for justice.

But it’s much easier to throw rocks across the fence–because you have the great joy of tossing them without ever knowing who they hit on the other side.

I would not want to live in a country that does not have the American Civil Liberties Union. They remind me of people I might forget about–if it weren’t for their presence.

I also would not want to live in a country that does not have the Family Research Center, which informs us when we begin to take good health for granted–be it emotional, spiritual, mental or physical.

Since we’re all conservatives in our own way, we might want to conserve our energy by not fighting–and expend some of it in an attempt to become reasonable.

But since that won’t happen, the ACLU should probably not do a lot of traveling south of Louisville, Kentucky.

And the Family Research Center people might want to avoid taking the big tour of Hollywood.

Acknowledge

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAcknowledge: (v) 1.to accept or admit the existence or truth of  2. to recognize the quality of: e.g. the arts community had begun to acknowledge his genius.

It’s not easy.

Often in the process of acknowledging the truth of a subject, we have to admit that we have fallen short of achieving a parallel situation.

It’s why we’re so stingy with our praise. People have to do immensely amazing things to get attention anymore. This causes us to only acknowledge things that are outlandish. And most outlandish things are often detrimental.

So our entertainment is realistic by being dark.

Our politics touts its value by only being adversarial, with no room for compromise.

And our relationships are explosive, portraying the alleged battle between men and women.

If there’s a gauge on our acknowledgment, I think we should turn it UP. I think we should start acknowledging things that aren’t as loud and overwhelming. I think we should allow people who decide to take a quieter path to be appreciated instead of only advertising those individuals who sound their brassy horn to let us know they’re coming through.

What DO I acknowledge?

  1. I acknowledge I’m human and it’s okay.
  2. I acknowledge there’s a God who knows I’m human–and that makes Him okay.
  3. I acknowledge you’re a human made by that God, which also puts you in the okay category.
  4. And finally, I acknowledge that good things deserve more attention than bad things.

That’s about it.

Acknowledging is a great thing if it brings about a sense of edification which exhorts us to higher ideals.

For instance, I know that pigs live in slop. I don’t need to have a movie made about it (no disrespect to the “swine” of the film industry.)

I would welcome a little bit more propaganda about goodness in our world …, so we can acknowledge that life is well worth the living.

Acid

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acid (n): a chemical substance that neutralizes alkalis, dissolves some metals and turns litmus red, typically, a corrosive of sour-tasting liquid: e.g. the rainwater is a very weak acid.

It burns. It disfigures. It’s pungent.

None of those words are particularly pleasing. I know there’s a purpose for acid. I also know it should not be thrown in somebody’s face nor drip too much into your gut.

When I was a kid, there was a saying: “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

Somewhere along the line, that slogan has been ridiculed to the extent that we now feel that saying nice things is stupid or pansy and that having an “acid tongue” is what’s necessary to communicate honesty.

I was watching a show yesterday when some unqualified individuals who certainly were beyond their scope in both understanding and righteousness were criticizing Kanye and Kim for naming their baby “North,” giving the young child the entire signature of “North West.”

These pseudo philosophers were distressed that the young parents had placed an undue burden on a child in a season when bullying is common–that they were certainly cursing their offspring to a life of perpetual ridicule. As the audience applauded these intrusive comments, each one of the “interferers” gained intensity and acidity with their observations. By the end, one would have thought that Kanye and Kim had murdered their small baby, throwing her into a duffel bag and dumping her into the East River.

Honestly, folks, I don’t know what the value of acid is. I am sure somebody could enlighten me, but in my understanding, it burns, it disfigures and it’s pungent.

I really don’t need any one of those three things. It may be a little optimistic to think that we can only say good things when observing some nastiness around us. But to purposefully wear the cap of cynicism for entertainment, or worse yet, in order to feel superior, is a curse on our society and will be viewed by future generations as a little piece of insanity that we fortunately escaped.

I do not favor acid. I don’t like it when it comes out of a beaker or slips off a tongue.

And maybe I’m weird–I think having a name like North West gives you a chance to start a conversation in a world that at times ping-pongs between acidity … and mute.

Achy

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Achy (adj.): Suffering from dull continuous pain: e.g. she felt tired and achy.

That’s not what it makes me think of!

Because of the foolishness of a crazy song, when I hear the word “achy,” I think of Billy Ray Cyrus singing “Achy Breaky Heart.”

I don’t know what it is about our society, but for some reason or another, to escape the doom and gloom of everyday problems, we will occasionally take on trends which are absolutely too silly for words. Our nation has a whole series of these:

  • The hula hoop: a circular plastic tube you placed around your waist, to wiggle around to keep it constantly rolling.
  • How about The Twist? I saw a movie the other day and people were doing The Twist and I wondered how we were so blind to the stupidity of the vision?
  • Of course, that goes for La Macarena, too.

We have these notions that certain things are cool for a season. They are silly and we want to escape the drudgery of thought, so we jump on the bandwagon and start tooting our horns with the rest of the off-key crowd.

Achy Breaky Heart??? How did that ever get past a publisher?? How did that get recorded?

Somewhere along the line we need monitors in our society who remind us that our particular difficulties are not so seriously devastating that we need to escape to utter childish pursuits.

I see them every day–people chasing this, pursuing that…and I’m telling you, even things like Twitter and Facebook will eventually have the same fate as telegraph lines, designer phones, 8-track tapes and My Space.

Didn’t they have an Achy Breaky Heart dance?? That is the definition of a double hell.

I am not trying to be some sort of curmudgeon who doesn’t see the joy in an occasional flippant trend, but when we’re chasing down causes which we know are stupid even as we’re doing them, it would just be better to avoid the detour.

And you know what’s worse? This guy, Billy Ray, is still traveling around every night–singing that song to adoring fans who remember where they were the first time they heard it. Do you know where I was? In musical hell!

It’s just too much. Even the word “achy” itself is a little bit “Sesame Street.”

Please just be mature enough to go ahead and have an ache.

Achilles

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAchilles: a hero of the Trojan War. During his infancy his mother plunged him into the Styx, making his body invulnerable except for the heel by which she held him. During the Trojan War, Achilles killed Hector but was later wounded in the heel by an arrow shot by Paris, and died.

Since I saw the movie, Troy, Achilles will always be Brad Pitt to me. Or maybe it’s that Brad Pitt will always be Achilles. Whichever floats your boat. And speaking of floating your boat … Supposedly Helen of Troy had an affair with Paris, which started a war and launched a thousand ships.

If you watch the movie, you see the portrayal of a very arrogant, self-sufficient, mean-spirited, dark, quizzical and I suppose to the average woman between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five, sexy Achilles.

He liked killing people.

That should be one of the classic turn-offs, but it seemed to be very exciting to his fellow-fighters and all the women who met him. He was rather ruthless, which the Greeks, who touted themselves to be such a scholarly bunch, still extolled as noble. He considered himself to be invincible, which lends itself to a bit of foolishness and certainly makes one obnoxious.

What did I learn about Achilles? I relearned the very valuable lesson that half of what I believe about myself is only true because it hasn’t been tested, and the other half, that has been tested, I do not believe, for some reason or another, to be sufficient to my needs.

We are all foolish when we think that because we haven’t yet met an enemy who can take us down, that we are beyond conquering. And we’re also quite silly when we downplay the TRUE virtues of our soul and talent, deeming them insignificant.

If Achilles had just been a good soldier, treated people better, and had not run into battle believing he was made of titanium, he probably could have lived to a ripe old age, had children and been deeply respected by the world around him. Instead, he let his ego drive his mission rather than using common sense and restraint.

It’s doubtful that dipping him in the River Styx actually achieved the purpose of making him supernatural. It sure did give him a lot of confidence, though–that is, until somebody shot an arrow in just the right place.

Interesting. Since we talk about Achilles, I wonder if that’s where we got the phrase, “that person’s a real heel.”