Category Archives: A words

Au revoir

Au revoir: (Fr. exclam.) good-bye until we meet again.

Even though I purposely avoid many of the stumps that come my way from which I could prophesy, today I shall indulge myself by sharing one of my few, but fervent pet peeves.

dictionary with letter A

I hate subtitles.

There are two reasons.

First of all, I think it’s pretentious to have American actors memorize some foreign words, contending that they are pronouncing them correctly.

Secondly, I’ve reached an age when I find myself squinting a bit to try to read the translation placed on the screen, which is often done in an obtuse font, blurry color and flashed so briefly that you’re trying to figure out the predicate from the acquired subject.

I don’t like pretense.

I don’t think you lose anything in a story if your German soldiers speak English.

After all, it’s about the story, right? Not how they pronounce the dialect from the Rhineland.

But I realize I’m in the minority and that the purists out there shake their heads, bemused by my objection.

Still, as far as I’m’ concerned, I would like to say to all those young filmmakers who feel they achieve great authenticity by offering intrusive foreign language into an American film … “Au revoir.”

 

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Aureole

Aureole: (n) a circle of light or brightness surrounding something, especially as depicted in art around the head or body of a person represented as holy.

I will freely admit to you that I have no scientific backing for my conclusions. These findings of mine are solely based upon years and years of observation of dictionary with letter Ahuman behavior.

There are three things that people will not accept from other folks:

  1. Arrogance.

We may even temporarily concede that certain people are “talented enough” that they have the right to be prideful, but we are simultaneously privately hoping they stumble and fall.

  1. Intolerance.

Even though we accept a certain amount of this nasty stuff in ourselves, we will not permit others to express this kind of fussiness and closed-minded approach with the world around them.

  1. Making the same dumb mistakes over and over again.

How many times can you say “I’m sorry” before people start hearing, “I’m pathetic”?

I bring these up to you because the Medieval artists began to place halos and aureoles around the heads of saints and angels–and especially Jesus of Nazareth.

I assume they felt this was an offering of respect for their good deeds or divinity.

But in the process they have taken a God who purposely became human and insisted that He be a human who was perfect–and a God.

It’s like turning to the Almighty and saying, “Your idea about becoming human like us was really stupid. We like people who wear hats that look like lightbulbs.”

I will tell you this–Jesus has no appeal to anybody when he’s proclaimed to be perfect.

  • We hate perfect people,
  • We plot their destruction.
  • We come up with pranks to make them look inept.

Likewise, Jesus does not have market when you insist he was a Jewish prophet for the Jewish people who was intolerant of Gentiles.

And Jesus does not have the ability to reach the world if his religion makes the same dumb mistakes over and over again that every religion has made.

So if you don’t mind, I would rather you remove the aureole from Jesus’ crown and have a more realistic representation.

How about a fly buzzing his head?

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Aural

Aural: (adj) of or relating to the ear or the sense of hearing.

Unashamedly, I will tell you that I enjoy being ornery. Perhaps I should give you a definition for ornery.dictionary with letter A

Ornery is 2 steps short of naughty and about 20 miles from gross.

Ornery is when something silly or sexual may come to your mind, and rather than blurting it out, you look for a clever way to play on the words so as to communicate that you are still viable without appearing to be a dirty old man.

It’s like today’s word. The minute I read it, my mind went to “aural sex.”

I’m sorry–it did.

Yet if I had giggled my way through this essay without preface, you might find me to be naughty or gross instead of just ornery. But since you’ve been kind enough to read what I’ve had to say thus far, may I go ahead and give you my definition for aural sex:

Aural sex is sex that is good enough that you can hear it.

 

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Aura

Aura: (n) the distinctive atmosphere that seems to surround and be generated by a person, thing, or place.

I once had an acquaintance who believed she could perceive “auras” around the people she met.dictionary with letter A

As our friendship grew, I realized that most of these colorations she “divined” were usually determined by whether she liked the person.

So much like humans.

Yet I must tell you, about 6 months ago I became very concerned that the aura around the American people seemed to be dark, dingy and depleted of any of the “red, white and blue” that makes us strong and valuable.

It worried me.

I didn’t want to be “mystical” or strange-minded, but I wanted to say something, do something or be something that would reawaken our gentle side and our willingness to believe in one another.

After all, politics seems to have drug us down to a complete halt and religion is a cantankerous debate among misfits.

A couple of months ago I sat down and wrote a book. You probably haven’t heard about it since neither CNN nor Fox News decided to cover its release.

I entitled the work “Within”–because I deeply believe that what stews around our innards eventually emanates in our actions.

What did I want the book to say? Many things, but three major themes:

  1. We have more in common than difference.
  2. Rather than being complex, we humans are delightfully predictable.
  3. And doing better is actually easier than continuing to falter.

Writing the book was an eye-opening, emotionally fulfilling experience.

I kept it short–matter of fact, the whole book can be read in less than an hour. And even though I don’t have the Madison Avenue publicity machine to make the public aware of this offering, I will continue to share it on as many different avenues as cross my path.

It would be my joy to reach the end of my life and know that I had an effect on the aura of the American people.

Yes. how wonderful to encourage us, building up our spirits again…to flower some color in our cheeks.

 

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Aunt

Aunt: (n) the sister of one’s father or mother or the wife of one’s uncle.

dictionary with letter AThe value of one’s relationship with an aunt is based upon the quality of the memories they have with your mother and father.

I wish I would have known that.

I had some pretty pukey aunts.They would not agree with that, I’m sure, but since they’re dead, I will risk offending their consciousness.

They were picky, they were self-righteous or they were completely disengaged.

I took it personally.

Being a kid, I tried to please them because I heard rumors at school about kids who had great aunts. Matter of fact, the abiding notion was that aunts were nicer than parents, or even grandparents, because they had so little invested in the future of the prodigy.

But my aunts were toads–and I don’t mean good toads. They just kind of sat there and peered at me, waiting for me to be either too loud or unmannerly.

Now that I’m older, I realize that these aunts didn’t have anything against me–they just didn’t like my mom and dad. So they decided to take it out on me.

After all, I was the swill that came from their bog.

I was the offspring of these people who the aunts had found fault with for years, had developed grudges against, and now persisted into the next generation.

I didn’t know this at the time. I thought I was perniciously ugly, fatally stupid or satanically infested.

It’s a good idea, if you happen to be an aunt and you’re pissed off at your sister or brother, to try to work that out with them and not pass the anger onto the kids.

Because in the long run, a good aunt is a treasure.

But a bad aunt would be better off living on the moon.

 

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Auld Lang Syne

Auld lang syne (n): times long past.

dictionary with letter AI was working on a screenplay for a Christmas movie which I had dubbed “Wonderful,” tipping my hat to the style and meaningful nature of Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

I have a way of writing plays or movies that’s a little bit different. I love to know how I’m getting into the story, developing the character and creating the conflict, but I do not want to look ahead to how the movie ends.

I once heard another screenwriter explain that writing a movie was “all about knowing how it was going to end.”

I’m sorry. That just seems foolish to me.

Since none of us know how our lives are going to end, why would telling a great story be benefitted by controlling the circumstances of the closing scene?

So I know it may sound weird, but I always let my characters decide how the movie’s going to end. After all, in both the short and long run, it is their story.

So when I reached the end of this particular movie, I found that the scene was evolving towards a romantic, if not bizarre, conflict, which needed to be quickly pulled together before the credits had completely rolled.

I needed something.

I remembered during the closing of “Wonderful Life,” they were all singing “Auld Lang Syne.” I didn’t want to have a typical, maudlin rendition of the song, but I thought a bluesy, melancholy, updated version would be perfect to cap off things.

So I sat down and wrote myself a musical preamble to the old standard, hired a great female caterwauler to intone the arrangement, and then just let it happen.

It was so beautiful that I cried.

You see, when you take something which has proven to be effective and you mess with it just enough that people know that you’re updating it for the times, and then let it work its magic, it is usually absolutely amazing.

Music has a spirit. There are certain tones that come together to produce emotion; chords that evoke sensation.

And this is why, when we do become nostalgic, the singing of “Auld Lang Syne” takes even the more cynical of us… to a place of reminiscent bliss.

 

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August

August (n): the eighth month of the year, in the northern hemisphere usually considered the last month of summer.

dictionary with letter A

It would be a toss-up between August and January.

These are the two months that are desperately in need of a good public relations agent, January being the let-down month after Christmas and the New Year, when the weather is miserable and people begin to get their credit card bills from Nativity celebrations.

But I still would have to say that August is the odd month out.

  • It foretells of the winding down of summer.
  • It’s when all swimsuits and inner tubes are discounted at your local Wal-Mart.
  • It’s also proclaimed to be the hottest month of the year, so therefore utility bills go up, fostering cranky consumers.
  • It also dangles on the precipice of the fall, which is full of the promise of football, whereas the month of August only offers a few measly exhibition games.

August is supposed to be august with regality but ends up producing the whining of young kids, complaining about the forthcoming of another school year, as they already begin to pine for better months with better holidays, like Halloween and Thanksgiving.

I don’t know whether you could promote August.

I have a dear friend who was born in August, so that makes it a little more pleasant.

But other than that, it’s kind of a let-down after July 4th, waiting for Saturday Game Day … for college football.

 

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Au gratin

Au gratin (adj): sprinkled with breadcrumbs or grated cheese, or both, and browned.

dictionary with letter A“That’s cheesy.”

We use that phrase whenever we want to insult something by portraying that it’s maudlin or overly sentimental.

Yet I’ve never heard anyone take a bite of a delicious lasagna and proclaim it “cheesy” and have it mean anything negative. Matter of fact, I have often used cheese to save a dish that seems to have lost all of its personality in the baking.

Cheese has some wonderful attributes:

  1. It melts.

I don’t really trust anything that isn’t willing to melt. If I’m with a woman and my touch or kiss does not melt her, it would not matter how attractive she appears, she has lost her appeal.

I trust that my ice will melt and give over some of its cold to chill my drink.

Melting is what we do when we decide to allow ourselves to become heated and pliable.

  1. It’s gooey.

Even though people around me don’t want to be gooey and gentle and silly, I find that when you actually pull it off, the room is not only energized, but tenderized against the hostility of cynicism.

  1. It stirs in.

When you finally have discovered that your cheese has melted, you will find that it is now willing to be stirred into the available concoction. While maintaining its own flavor, it glues the entire mixture together.

I like cheesy.

And I will continue to be cheesy, insisting on becoming au gratin to the blandness of the dishes around me, so that we can make sure to remember how wonderful it is … to feel.

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Augment

Augment (v): to make something greater by adding to it; to increase.

dictionary with letter A

I must warn you that this particular essay may be a bit blunt and graphic.

I am not choosing this profile because I desire controversy, but rather, to explain how powerful ideas can be supplanted by mediocrity.

From time to time when I check the inbox for my emails, I am inundated by offers to “augment” my penis.

They are basically working under the concept that I am dissatisfied with the little fellow. Or maybe it’s the insecurity they wish to play off–that I fear my lover is unfulfilled with my girth or length. It could be just the classic misconception that “big is always better.”

I quickly delete these advertisements, and sure enough, after a few weeks they disappear for a season, only to once again pilfer through, trying to convince me of the dwindling possibility below my belly line.

Yet there are many things I would like to augment. My penis is not one of them.

  • I would like to augment my generosity.
  • I would like to augment my perseverance.
  • I would like to augment my discipline in eating fewer calories.
  • I would like to augment my compassion.
  • I would certainly like to augment my patience.

I could go on and on about what I wish to augment–but I never receive offers on these points of interest, only a proliferation of opportunities to extend my cartilage.

I am not a prude. But I’m also not obsessed with my own sexuality.

I want to live in a world that becomes concerned about augmenting common sense–so that I don’t have to be known by what “Jane thinks about my Dick.”

 

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Auditorium

Auditorium: (n) a large building or hall used for public gatherings, typically speeches or stage performances.

dictionary with letter A

I love auditoriums.

I think anybody who performs looks forward to being on a big enough stage that it provides for a backstage.

Backstage is fun.

It’s where you sit or stand and wonder about how many people are coming to the concert, or you slide into a side room that’s been provided for dressing and make-up.

When I graduated from high school I started a music group, wrote two original songs and actually built up the courage to raise some funds to record them.

I made a 45 RPM.

I know that doesn’t sound like a big deal, but in that era it made me nearly a god. Having a record made you look like you were not only prosperous, but talented.

So I was able to get a gig at a large auditorium on the Ohio State Fairgrounds. I loved that building. I had been to concerts many times in the facility, and now I was going to get to play in the auditorium.

I dressed everybody up and we even hired a drummer to come in and perform with us. I thought we sounded pretty good.

Unfortunately, the gig was for a religious church group youth rally, so there was an air of stuffiness surrounding the event, and a lot of rules and regulations laid on us, which honestly, I just didn’t listen to.

I found out later that:

  • We weren’t allowed to have drums, which we had.
  • We weren’t permitted to be loud, which we were.
  • And there couldn’t be any rock and roll in the sound, which there definitely was.

So we were halfway through our song, jubilantly sharing our talents, when suddenly the curtains started to close in front of us.

At first I thought it was a mistake, so I ran forward while the band still played and tried to pull them open. But they continued to close, because there were two austere men of dark countenance pulling on ropes, making sure that our sound and appearance were terminated.

I was furious.

I demanded they reopen the curtains, but they refused.

So the young audience booed for a second, and then were rebuked by their elders.

We still sat in the lobby offering to sell our 45 record to anyone who might have enjoyed the 16 bars of the tune we were able to pump out.

Only one girl of the 728 present was brave enough to come to our table and see us. The rest of the kids avoided us like we were an unwelcome leper colony. The young lady bought our 45, told us that she thought the grown-ups were assholes, and as she left, she raised her fist and said, “Rock on.”

I did.

And I’ve never stopped.

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