Coot

Coot: (n) a foolish or crotchety person, especially one who is old

I have officially become old enough to become a coot. I’m not sure what age qualifies you, but age is certainly a factor.

There are other considerations:

Coots always talk about “how good things used to be.”

Coots tend to refer to society as using a “handbasket on their way to hell.”

Coots pine for a time when they were younger and full of energy.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I honestly don’t feel any of that whatsoever.

Many of my growing-up years were filled with ignorance, prejudice, anger, self-righteousness and bloodshed in an unrighteous war. So I don’t yearn to go back—I just insist that there are two things the human race can’t live without, and we should cease deleting them from our browser.

Human beings must have empathy and self-deprecation. If you don’t like the idea of self-deprecation, then insert humility.

When we stop feeling empathy for the man or woman next to us, we become enemies to our own species, similar to a bee who plots with the flies to steal the honey.

And when we don’t produce adequate humility, the obnoxious odor that comes off our being chases people from the room.

I’m not an old coot.  I don’t care who you sleep with. I don’t care what your political party is. I don’t care what your faith or lack of faith might be.

But when you mess with empathy and humility, I will dig my heels in, because then you’re plotting the destruction of the human race—of which I am proudly a member.


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Cobweb

Cobweb: a spider’s web, especially when old and covered with dust

I have watched with some nervous curiosity as a confident individual handles a snake.

They always seem to feel it is hilarious to offer the snake in my direction, waiting for me to step back in horror to ​provide​ them a hideous giggle. But everyone has small “somethings” that turn us into nutty little girls, running away in terror from a bee.

The other night I was sitting in the living room with my son, who is a large, burly man, when he suddenly winced and shimmied in his chair because a fly had come close to his ear. He was adequately embarrassed so I did not tease him, though greatly tempted.

​Yet ​I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone walk through cobwebs with​out​ getting an icky face and batting with their hands in all directions to rid themselves of the sticky strings.

I once owned a house near a lake. I built a beautiful porch. Every morning there was a spider web in one corner. I took a broom and swept it away, but the next day it would be back again. I asked a friend about it and he said, “Well, the only way to get rid of the cobweb is to kill the spider. Otherwise, ​it​ will just continue to do ​its job faithfully.”

After all, a spider web is just a home for a spider, which doubles as a trap for flies so he can get good eats. It’s a rather ingenious ​invention​.

If I could figure out how to turn my house into a trap for hamburgers, steaks and fried chicken, I’d do it, too.​

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Bee

Bee: (n) an insect of a large group to which the honeybee belongsDictionary B

There certainly seem to be a lot of design flaws in Mother Nature.

I am not offering this as a criticism, nor do I think I could have done a better job stomping around the Universe.

It’s just that in the mortal brain, we have a tendency to seek sense where Nature only offers tension. The whole process is held together with tiny fibers, little branches, and maybe chewing gum and lint.

How it actually works is beyond our comprehension.

For instance, I would love to be friends with the bee.

I’ve heard of the good work they do.

  • I realize that they pollinate plants and flowers which keep us alive and allow us to eat, escaping starvation.
  • I am very favorable to honey, the by-product of their process.
  • They are colorful.

But then, they have this thing called a “stinger.” And because I do not want to be stung, I am tempted to kill them, and therefore be party to terminating their noble work, and in a sense, setting in motion my own suicide.

It’s really crappy.

Why couldn’t the bee sing like the bird, so we would be able to admire both mission and personal traits?

But mingled in there is the need for the bee to defend itself against those who would try to quell its progress. So the bee threatens with a sting.

It is bizarre.

It is beyond my grasp.

Yet it works.

And when the bees started to die off a few years ago, we very complex human beings were sent into a dither over the prospect of losing the little fellas.

For after all, we need them.

So we must remember, there are many things in life that benefit us … which are also allowed to sting us if we misuse them.

 

 

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Aldrin, Buzz

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Aldrin, Buzz: (1930- ) U.S. Astronaut who walked in space for 5 hours and 37 minutes during the 1966 Gemini 12 mission. In 1969 he took part in the first moon landing, becoming the second person, after Neil Armstrong, to set foot on the moon.

Perhaps he acquired his nickname because he was selected to play a bee in the second-grade play, Spring is Sprung, personifying the emergence of Nature for another year.

Yes, maybe that’s why they call him “Buzz.”

Or maybe it’s because he has a penchant for snoring and the sound that emotes from his nostrils is best described as a “buzz.”

Then I had a thought that he got this name, Buzz, because of the haircut he sported, which at one time or another, has been referred to as a “buzz cut.”

Maybe he was just the kind of guy who liked to drive around town waving at people, making it known that he had a car and could afford gasoline–just “buzzing about.”

I was thinking that when he was a young boy doing pranks, he might have been one of those kids who rang people’s doorbell, and then disappeared quickly–a “buzzer.”

Another idea: maybe he played basketball and was known for making the winning goal just before the clock ran out, “beating the buzzer.”

I’m not sure how he got the name Buzz.

Maybe it’s because he buzzed around the moon and stopped off to take a brief stroll before heading back home.


Abuzz

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abuzz: (adj.) filled with a continuous buzzing sound.

I probably would have made the mistake of advertising the Beatles album, Let It Be, with some sort of corny phrase, like, “Let it bee. The world is abuzz with the new sounds.”

I do think there was a time in this country when such a play on words would have been considered extremely intelligent,  or at least appreciated as being whimsical and cute. Now if you would play on the word ‘abuzz,’ people groan, acting like you’re Rip van Winkle, waking up from a twenty-year-nap, into a world of smart phones and tweeting instead of computer disks and spiked hair.

What has happened? Because the word “abuzz” is really kind of nice. Matter of fact, I’m sure that sometime, maybe even in the last two weeks, I have used it or even inserted it into one of my essays. But if you become artsy in using it, you suddenly become “Grandpa,” trying to be too silly, making the kids laugh by tickling their ribs.

Wouldn’t it be important, though, to keep a little cleverness in our society, so that not everything is black and white, being chased by crap brown? Does everything have to be straight-forward, and if it isn’t, mystical or fantasy related?

I’m sure if people watch old episodes of Mary Tyler Moore, or especially MASH, their heads must spin with the rapid-fire use of language, which is laced with so many double entendres and plays on words that you almost have to have a program to keep up with them.

I would agree with the younger set–some of that scripting was a bit over the top. But I think the absence of dialogue, sweetness, gentle nudgings and even coined phrases in our present entertainment and even political scene is just downright drab.

So I will freely admit that I should be careful not to use the word “abuzz” in relationship to anything resembling a bee or a fly–that is, if you will admit to ME that describing the color green as “greenish” … is absolutely boring.