Dame

Dame: (n) a term used to reference a woman

They build corrals so horses won’t escape.

In doing so, they are admitting that the horses don’t really want to be there. Apparently, the beasts aren’t impressed with a barn and three meals of hay a day.

They want outta there.

To a horse, a stable is a prison. (Or what you might consider unstable.)

Corralling seems to be one of the favored activities of our current world. I don’t think there’s a sentence I could write that someone could not ardently peruse to discover offensive material within.

Why? Because we’re not interested in cleverness and inspiration. We’re only determined to establish our entity by critiquing the thoughts of others.

I can’t keep it straight.

I thought calling a woman a “chick” was extraordinarily out of whack, until some teenagers explained to me that it was “cool, cute and even kind of sexy.”

I guess it’s still incorrect to refer to a lady as a “broad,” unless you’re doing it as a bold compliment, like: “That Senator from California is one tough broad.”

Of course, there are words that are offensive.

The use of the “c word” for a woman is incomprehensible.

I don’t like “bitch”—but women will turn around and call themselves bitches. (I suppose that’s the same thing as when a black person wants to call himself the “n word.”)

I just don’t know.

I’m lost in the desert here without a canteen.

So the word “dame” is not only nasty, but it’s also so old-time that it makes you look like you fell off the turnip truck on your way to market—not only prohibited, but Grandpa-like.

Now, normally we extol things that are traditional as having lasting merit, but in this case, “dame” sounds like the language of the Bowery Boys (and of course, nobody knows who the Bowery Boys are anymore.)

Don’t get me wrong. This is not a lamentation.

I find it intriguing to keep up with words that have flow, character and veracity.

But every once in a while, I’m like that stallion that finds out where the corral begins and has a hankerin’ to take a leap over it.

Corral

Corral: (n) an enclosure or pen for horses, cattle, etc.

The key to building a corral is to make sure that the animals you’re trying to hem in are not aware that they are being limited. If they are constantly eye-balling the restriction, they will also be challenging the fences and breaking them down.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Therefore, you give a horse a long way to run before you close off escape.

You make sure all the cows have plenty of grass under their feet, so they don’t start looking to the other side of the fence.

And you give the chickens plenty of huntin’ and peckin’ room, so they don’t try to use their tiny wings to lift off the ground and vault the barricade.

I guess since human beings are creatures of Earth, we also resist being corralled. I don’t know about you, but sometimes just the existence of Ten Commandments makes me want to break ’em all.

Seeing a tag attached to my mattress reading, “Do Not Remove by Penalty of Law,” festers me into a ripping mode.

And I have found the children who have no discipline and the children who have too much discipline are always the least disciplined.

How can you corral the human appetite without encumbering the spirit?

I’m not saying I have the answer for that—but I will tell you, if you build a corral of legalism, attempting to scare people into submission, or if you construct no restraining wall whatsoever, you end up punishing people due to constraint or permissiveness.

My thought is, go as far as you want to—and keep going—and just ask yourself, your conscience and any God you might believe in to let you know when going further is unnecessary.


Donate Button


Subscribe to Jonathan’s Weekly Podcast

Good News and Better News

 

Big Top

Big Top: (n) the main tent in a circus.

Dictionary B

The circus smells like elephant poop.

That’s my main memory from the only time I went there at twelve years of age.

I had this strange sensation of smelling pachyderm droppings while simultaneously eating cotton candy. It was a disturbing mixture.

I was a chubby fellow, so when the clowns came out to perform, one of the jokesters targeted me, using mime to imitate my tubbiness, to the delight of children nearby. Obviously lacking some training in sensitivity, the bozo continued to do so until the laughter subsided.

So to a certain degree, I was very happy when the elephants arrived and I was no longer the largest in the tent.

The circus was impressive.

There were things flying in the air, fire spewing from the mouths of entertainers, and all sorts of horses running in circles with brightly-colored saddles, which were ever-so-faintly fading through years of use.

I worked really hard to be a fan.

I oohed and aahed on cue, making it clear to all my friends around me that I was an appreciator.

But as I left the tent, even though I was just a kid, I sensed that these professionals were working awfully hard to make life fun. Matter of fact, when I hear people draw the parallel that “life is a circus,” I think to myself, no, it’s not.

Actually, our goal is to make sure that life doesn’t become a funeral … by adding just enough clowns, dancing monkeys and corn dogs.

Donate Button

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