Category Archives: A words

About-face

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

About-face: 1. (n.) {chiefly in the military} a turn made so as to face the opposite direction 2.(v.): a command to make an about-face.

I don’t like to be ordered around.

Of course, if you say that out loud, people think you’re too spunky or too touchy. I’m not saying that I WON’T be ordered around. There are people who have the right to do so, and I respect their position.

I guess what I really mean is, I don’t like to be ordered around simply because someone has run out of things to do, so they come up with a new command to bark at me so they will still feel in control.

It reminds me of when I was a kid and would occasionally make the mistake of acting like I was bored. Before I could correct my error, my mother or father would always find something for me to do to fill my time in the most unpleasant way possible–a meaningless chore like cleaning out the attic, which no one ever visited anyway.

I do think there are things in life which demand an about-face. I would hope we would be intelligent enough to figure them out on our own, though, without someone having to scream at us to get our attention.

I think it would be wonderful if the President of the United States made an about-face and quit the Democratic Party, becoming an Independent, to communicate to the nation that he was no longer President of a club, but instead, the leader of all the people.

I would love to see the Catholic Church do an about-face on its traditions, which have generated sub-par human beings who abuse children out of their frustration over the lack in their own lives.

I would love to see the corporations in America do an about-face and realize they will not be able to make lavish profits if they continue to destroy the confidence of the consumer, raping them of money for often-inferior products.

I would like to see the entertainment industry do an about-face and add a little bit of conscience in with the effort to make a dollar at the box-office.

I would like to see the nation make an about-face on the issue of anything that kills people and put our freedom above the Second Amendment.

I would like to see myself do an about-face on believing there is a short list of things that I cannot overcome because I’m either too old or too stubborn.

About-face is a good idea–especially when you’re not waiting for a drill sergeant to give the order.

Yes, I guess I am much more pliable when the commands come from my own heart, through my soul and register in my brain.

About

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

About: (prep.) on the subject of; concerning.

Finally–a word I can write about that doesn’t tell me what to write about, but instead, allows me the about on which I wish to write.

Since I was a kid I’ve been given topics. Subjects–things that I’m supposed to think about, do or construct a paragraph to explain. It’s limiting!

But now, today, because of the courtesy of the word “about,” I could write ANYTHING on this paper and make a case that I was merely elaborating on the subject to explain the word “about.”

I feel empowered.

I feel completely in control of my own destiny from an artistic sense–not bound by tradition, complication or compulsion–unless you want to consider the compulsion that I might have–to focus “about” something…

It’s a great question: “What is this about?”

You can answer almost anything, since the person asking obviously has no clue. Your response is as good as any.

Matter of fact, the other day I tried it. Somebody was speaking to a friend in line at a restaurant and said, “What do you think all this debate concerning the budget is about?”

There was a brief pause, wherein I leaped through the silence, into the conversation and replied, “Guilt over genocide of the Indians.”

I then turned my back and resumed a dialogue with a nearby friend.

Neither one of the people who had been engaged in this discussion concerning the budget exactly knew what to do. After all, they didn’t know what it was about, therefore leaving themselves wide open for a tangential interpretation. What I succeeded in doing was stifling their involvement. They changed the subject and moved on.

So, since I could write about anything today, what I’ve decided to discuss…

Wait a second. They’re telling me my time is up. I’ve already used too many words.

Shoot. Another blown opportunity. Well, let me sum it up.

Can anybody explain to me why frog legs which have been fried taste a little bit like mush until you put salt on them, and then all they taste like is salt?

Thank you for your time.

Abound

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abound: (v.) Exist in large numbers or amounts.

I abound in pounds.

That nearly rhymes.

I was trying to think about all the things I abound in. For a brief season in my life, I abounded in money. Without sounding like an absolute nerd or a ditz, I didn’t particularly find the experience to be any different from having just enough money to meet your needs–because unless you plan to do excessive things that you really don’t require, like order in Red Lobster every night to be delivered by a valet service, let’s be honest: clothes are clothes, food is food and a place to sleep is all about your pillow.

The fun I had with money when I abounded in it was giving it away–which is why I no longer abound. Some folks think I should have thought ahead and kept some  money on balance, so that I would always be well-to-do instead of just temporarily well-to-do, and now mere mortal.

But if you remember, in Superman II, Clark Kent was willing to give up all the powers of Krypton to get a peek at Lois Lane‘s byline. So even if you’re a superhero, you might be willing to forfeit your abounding for something more important.

People are always talking about America abounding in wealth, education and freedom. I suppose so–but abounding isn’t nearly as much fun if you can’t share with others. And I never met a selfish person who really thought he or she WAS abounding–even when it was obvious they had much more than they needed.

So what IS abounding?

I guess abounding is the day that you feel comfortable in your own skin, and everything you really need … is inside there.

ABO

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

ABO: (n.) A system of four basic types–A, AB, B and O–into which human blood may be classified, based on the presence or absence of certain inherited antigens.

I realize that I would make a terrible vampire.

I would be great with the intellectual pursuit–in other words, studying the types of blood, speculating on the various textures or flavors. Occasionally at a dinner party, I might pull off sipping some of the hemoglobin, to be fashionable or even fun-loving. But I could never be a guzzler.

I think the teeth bother me, too. Talk about telegraphing your intentions–with two pointy incisors protruding from your jowls!

I don’t particularly like the hours, either. I work best in the morning, and after midnight, I kind of zone out.

I guess I am one of those weirdos who never understood the romantic or sexual energy from the whole vampire thing. In the midst of pleasure, I really don’t want to be bitten. If that makes me the non-adventurous type, then so be it. I especially would not want to be chewed on if the goal was to drain my blood. Isn’t a certain amount of blood circulation necessary to achieve pleasure?

I guess vampires confuse me.

The only advantage they have seems to be immortality, but if you end up working a blood-sucking job, what’s the glory of living forever?

I don’t think I’m a fuddy-duddy and if somebody nibbled on my neck a bit in the throes of passion, producing some tingles, it would be fine. But I think I would be a very dishonest vampire. I would have to pretend I was turned on by the look and probably would end up pouring V-8 Juice in my glass to fool my fellow-believers, and also to get my two servings of vegetables.

Yes, blood types are really nice to think about if you need blood. Other than that, it’s kind of icky.

So if there is a choice in the matter, I choose NOT to be a vampire. I’m not really interested in vampires, and I, for one, think Dracula is creepy rather than sexy.

But I guess if you want to be overtaken, bit on the neck and have all your blood drained as a type of foreplay, this is the United States of America–a free country. Go for it.

Not for me. I’m still trying to learn the intricacies and techniques of French kissing.

Abort

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abort: 1.(v.) Carry out or undergo the abortion of a fetus  2. bring to a premature end because of a problem or fault: the pilot aborted his landing.

No young girl dreams of growing up and being abused by a man.

No little lady talks about how wonderful it will be someday … when she is a prostitute.

No lass with any intellectual bearing breathlessly awaits the day when she can put a mask over her face to disguise her femininity.

No studious teenage girl burns the midnight oil, hoping that someday she can smack her head on the glass ceiling and make 72% of the salary of her male counterpart.

No young woman anxiously envisions a life where she is romantically involved with a man who not only is insensitive to her sexual needs, but insists that his appetites drive him beyond their mutually agreed upon bedroom.

No flourishing young lady aspires to be considered less than the males around her and incapable of sharing spiritual thoughts because she was born with a vagina.

And …

No precious members of the female of our species look up at their mommies with eyes of wonder … and dream of the day that they can have an abortion.

You see? What is absent from our dialogue nowadays is common sense. It is because folks have “pet issues” and allow similar ones to remain strays.

If we had more education, dialogue, intelligence and opportunity made readily available, we would not have to debate prostitution or abortion.

There are only two things I would like to see aborted: ignorance and hypocrisy.

Aborning

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Aborning: (adv.) While being born or produced: The idea died aborning (adj.) Being born or produced: In the 1960’s hippidom was aborning.
You must be “aborn again.”

Well, I don’t know about you, but I need it.

Sometimes I find myself stupidly trying to live within the confines of this tiny little cultural moment that I am squeezed into by the pressure of my society. I am tempted to abandon all of my previous experience and knowledge, and somehow recreate myself as some sort of seed which has recently fallen out of a pod to the earth below.

But that’s NOT me. That is the “me” who walks around frustrated because I feel out of step with a world that wants me to be in step before I dare step out–or else, get stepped on.

Hogwash.

I want to be aborn again. Here’s the life I desire:

  • I want to have the rebellion of the ’60’s deep in my soul–so every time I see an injustice I speak out against it instead of just rolling my eyes and waiting on the world to change.
  • I want to have the joy and revelry of the 1970’s, when we had the common sense to believe that even our suits should be leisurely.
  • Simultaneously, I want to be a family man of the ’80’s, where I treasure the beauty of those close to me and appreciate the opportunity to be part of something nuclear which doesn’t blow up.
  • I am not afraid to take on the technology of the ’90’s, which transformed us from a generation that was “lost in space,” walking around mumbling, “Does not compute,” to full-blown technicians, adept at computers.
  • And I want to carry the true patriotism of the 2000’s, when we regained a sense of what it was to be an American–because American soil was tainted with blood.

I want it all. I don’t want to be some narrow-minded individual, even if that tiny path takes me to a conservative conclusion or a more liberal vista. I want to be a rebellious, joyous family man, hip to technology, who loves my country.
Is that too much to ask? Is that too much to believe? Or are we all just afraid … of too much?

I must be aborn again. Amen.

 

Aboral

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Aboral: (adj.) relating to or denoting the side or end that is furthest from the mouth, especially in animals that lack clear upper and lower sides, such as echinoderms.

I don’t know why this word made me think about the Mississippi River. I stopped worrying about the weird tendency of my mind to leap to bizarre inclinations years ago, and have chosen to believe it a virtue rather than a vice.

But the Mississippi River has a mouth. It’s somewhere up there in Minnesota, among those stoic German-Lutheran folk, who would certainly be willing to be the “salt of the earth” if their doctors had not told them to avoid too much sodium.

But the further you get away from the mouth, the less German and Lutheran the Mississippi River becomes. It winds its way through the heartland, flirting with Illinois, kissing up to St. Louis, where it throws a quick wave at the Gateway Arch, careens down through Memphis, listening to jazz and smelling the barbecue, but also remembering some of the tragedies, such as the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Having started at its mouth, it now gets deeper into its aboral quest, as it swims its way through the south, landing at a very un-Minnesota-like destination, of New Orleans. Desiring international credibility, it eventually dumps itself into the Gulf of Mexico.

It is a flow of water which separates this country from east to west. Yes, east of the Mississippi live most of the population, insisting they prefer wide-open spaces, while clumping together like year-old peanut brittle. West of the Mississippi, there are regions that appear to be still available for marauding buffalo and Native American tribes.

The Mississippi River is a divider without being divisive. It does something that nobody seems to be capable of achieving–dribbling from one culture to another without preconceived ideas or bigotry. As it goes from its mouth to more aboral locations, it wiggles through accents, belief systems, cultures and states with ease and comfort–absent favoritism.

It is a citizen of both Minnesota and Mardi Gras, without apology.

I’m not so sure if those at the mouth would approve of the aboral destination of the river. But the river does not ask permission. It has learned a valuable lesson:

Go with the flow.

 

Abominable

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abominable: adj. causing moral revulsion.

What did the Snowman ever do to you?

Why did he end up being Abominable?

Did I miss some news story on Inside Edition? Was the big Snowman caught in bed with Madonna or Pink? Is he doing cocaine in the snow? Is he killing off people in the woods?

Why is the Abominable Snowman considered abominable? What breach in morality causes us to find him revolting?

This is not fair. Just because you’re nine feet tall, are covered with hair in the frigid Yukon, growling at strangers, does not mean you lack the moral fiber to be a damned good Republican.

Is it just that everybody who does not fit the “normal” size, look or social presentation have to be scrutinized until we discover some hidden sin yet uncovered?

I, for one, think it’s time that we stop calling him, her or it abominable. I think “big and ugly” would be better than abominable, don’t you?

I am concerned that moral judgments are being made about a creature we actually know very little about. For that matter, we’re not even sure he exists.

Of course, in our present political climate, we seem to be very good at creating problems out of nothing. So who knows? Maybe there’s a reporter somewhere from some sort of tell-it-all rag who has been following this monstrous creature around and knows that he has nasty inclinations.

Yet that doesn’t stop us from having priests in the Catholic Church. It doesn’t eliminate politicians cavorting with prostitutes. We don’t call THEM abominable.

No, it is a word reserved for the Snowman.

And speaking of that, it reminds me of the reporter who once caught up with the self-assesssed, famous adventurer, Scarsland de Barkel, winner of the First Annual Coveted Explorer’s Award, and asked him, “Mr. de Barkel, have you found the Abominable Snowman?”

Scarsland replied, “Not Yeti.”

A-bomb

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

A-bomb: n. short for Atom Bomb.

I was able to duck but not cover.

When they tried to teach our second-grade class what to do in case of an atomic bomb landing somewhere near our school yard, the huskiness of my being permitted me to duck, as required, but I was unable to get UNDER my desk, to cover. My little second-grade desk was unwilling to provide shelter for my large self.

It was rather embarrassing. Matter of fact, my friends, who loved me, were nearly moved to tears, realizing that they would have to continue their school life after the bomb cleared away, with me destroyed by being uncovered. They were SO overwrought that I started to cry, because I did not want to have an atomic bomb eating away at my body, butt first.

It was very real to my eight-year-old mind. Of course, no one explained to us that an atomic bomb had little respect for a small wooden desks, and would not honor them as adequate defense.

But since none of us really knew what an A-bomb was, we were only concerned about our part and responsibility of ducking and covering, which I was only prepared to fulfill half-heartedly.

It was a strange time. And it was a bizarre notion–to think that at any moment the world as you knew it could disintegrate and burn up like onion skin paper in a hot fire, simply because some nation was crazy enough to believe they could conquer someone by disintegrating their environment.

I was so distraught after finding out that I was unable to cover beneath my little desk that my teacher went out into the storage building and found a larger desk for me, which would accommodate the full extent of my duck, as I covered.

I was moved.

The entire class was relieved, and somewhere deep in my heart, I believed that the Soviet Union found out that we had once again foiled their plans by discovering a way to protect ALL of our citizenry–by acquiring larger furniture.

This is my experience with the A-bomb.

Fortunately, I have never had to implement this particular safety procedure, although occasionally, just for old times sake and fun, I will duck.

Abomasum

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abomasum: n. the fourth stomach of a ruminant, which receives food from the omasum and passes it to the small intestine.

I got really excited with this one.

Being obese all my life and maintaining a commitment to the cause, I thought how terrific it would be to have four stomachs. You see, what you would possess is a greater potential for filling up–but ALSO you could evenly distribute your  gluttony so it wouldn’t SEEM like you were over-eating.

But then I considered the physique of these ruminants. Do I really want to look like a cow? Perhaps better phrased, do I want to continue to look like a cow? That’s bull.

So I decided that having four stomachs only quadruples the need for weight loss.

The other thing that bothered me about this particular word is how depressing it must be to be the fourth stomach. Talk about being the low man on the totem pole! What would get sent to the fourth stomach?? You have three other containers in front of you vying for the better parts of the intake.

Wouldn’t it be my luck to be a fourth stomach. How would you feel? Especially since you’re down there at the end of the line, and your job is to send crap to the small intestine.

I think we all do feel that way sometimes–we are the fourth stomach in a goat, doing nothing but puttin’ out a bunch of crap.

I’m going to stop writing now. It’s too depressing…