Tag Archives: backside

Clean

Clean: (adj) uncontaminated and pure; innocent.

I didn’t take my first shower until I was in junior high school.

Our house had a bathtub. I remember, as a boy, sitting in that tub until my skin started to prune up. This told me two things: first, I had been in the water too long. But secondly, there was a chance I was clean.

But the first time I stepped into that shower after junior high school football practice, I realized I had never gotten the back of my neck clean sitting in that tub.

Matter of fact, a friend standing nearby, who should have been minding his own business, saw that there were little streams of dirt flowing down my backside.

He thought this was hilarious.

Being one who liked to share his joy, he pointed it out to all the nearby fellows showering. I was embarrassed.

I tried to explain that I was a bather, not a “shower-er,” but that sounded even worse.

I scrubbed the back of my neck the very best I could, went out, changed clothes and left as quickly as possible.

I grew up a lot that one afternoon, because I realized that just because we think we’re clean doesn’t mean that every place on us–or in us–has been cleansed.

Sometimes it takes a shower hitting us at just the right place to expose hidden dirt.

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Chair

Chair: (n) separate seat for one person

I was five years old the first time someone referred to me as “fat.” It came off the lips of Aunt Pruney-Face Fussypants. (I don’t recall her real
 name so I’m working off stage directions.)

She whispered to my mother, “Don’t let him sit in that chair. He’s too fat. He might break it.”

I don’t know if I was stunned, mystified, humiliated or defiant, but I went over and sat down in the chair anyway–just to prove that it would embrace me from the bottom up.

It held its ground.

Yet over the years, certain chairs have gone “snap, crackle and pop” when introduced to my backside. So I hbave developed the mystical ability to peer at a piece of furniture, determining its width and sturdiness. I avoid bargain-basement furniture, realizing that it’s only suited for an anorexic market.

Chairs are problematic when you’re large.

Large is problematic because you’re always looking for a chair.

Aye–there’s the rub.

So even though I have encountered tens of thousands of seating units on my journey, many had to be rejected by my prejudice toward their outward appearance.

 

 

 

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Anyhow

dictionary with letter A

Anyhow: (adv) 1. another term for anyway 2. in a careless or haphazard way (e.g.: the suitcases were flung anyhow)

There are three particular approaches I would like to see done away with simply because they’re frustrating if you’re trying to get something accomplished.

  • The first is a phrase: “Is this good enough?”

If you have to ask, you already know it isn’t. You’re just begging to be released from the responsibility.

  • The second is a gesture: the shrug.

When people don’t want to commit, share or open up, they use this nasty little shoulder lift to express their boredom or disdain.

  • And the third is a word: “Whatever.”

It’s the definition of passive-aggressive. Whenever I hear it, I realize the speaker has a strong opinion against what I am doing, but apparently I am unworthy of discussion about the matter.

In fifty years this generation will be known as “the anyhow clump.”

Thinking that tape, band-aids and bubblegum are just as good building materials as nails, boards and screws, we have generated an atmosphere of potential mishap simply due to poor quality effort.

The reason we are afraid of terrorists is that we know how mediocre we are, and we figure that someone in the world is more efficient than us.

The comical thing is that the terrorists wake up every morning just as humanly lazy, and willing to keep their plans “in committee” as we are.

So what keeps us safe from the terrorists is the same thing that places us in danger from the terrorists.

It’s called “anyhow.”

We’re not concerned with excellence, but instead merely getting to the finish line, while not ruling out the option of cheating.

So if you’re around me, be careful of these three options. Because if you ask me if it’s “good enough,” I won’t even look. I’ll tell you no.

If you shrug your shoulders, I will turn on my heel, quietly walk out of the room and offer you my back side as an exit.

And if you are so presumptuous as to speak “whatever” in my presence, I will quickly cure you by providing a litany of reasons for “whatever.”

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

Abaft

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abaft: {nautical} adv. in or behind the stern of a ship. prep. nearer the stern than; behind: the yacht has a shower just abaft the galley.

It was weird.

One morning I put on my sweat pants backwards. I knew almost immediately–because the tag was in the front. Tags aren’t supposed to be in the front. They’re supposed to be abaft.

See, I found that out this morning.

Stubbornly, I decided not to take my pants off and put the tag abaft. It bothered me all day. I became convinced that my crotch was being crushed by a lack of cloth which was intended to caress my backside, and was now kissing up to my front portions.

It was so annoying that when I saw a public restroom in a shopping center, I went into the bathroom, took off my pants to turn them around.  As I was disrobing, another fellow walked in and saw me pantless. His eyes twinkled, obviously seeking an explanation.

“A religious practice,” I stated, making the symbol of the cross on my chest.

Though bewildered, he continued about his business and I restored my pants to normalcy.

Likewise, I once heard an English professor refer to the US as a backward nation because we still cling to our religious fervor. I smiled. I thought about how many times we refer to other countries as backward, and now to have ourselves thrust abaft was unnerving.

I have never used the term again.

Also, at one time we called people who were shy backward. Now we insist they have some attention deficit disorder and give them a pill. Obviously, medication is thrust forward and never abaft.

There are many things I wish were abaft. Prejudice. Anger. Violence. Stupidity presented as pseudo-intellectualism. I-Phones that don’t seem to have a “we” application. And for that matter–back to the original definition–being stern. Yes, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we actually WERE abaft to being stern? If we realistically stopped thinking that serious faces have deeper thoughts?  Yes, let’s put THAT abaft.

And for the record, I became so obsessed with my sweat pants and which way to put them on that I took a pair of scissors and snipped the tag. Sometimes it’s just better to be ignorant than obsessed.

Yes, obsession of that sort should be abaft.