Chickpea

Chickpea: (n) a round yellowish seed, used widely as food.

Imagine my shock when I discovered that garbanzo beans were also known as chickpeas.

For years, when I traveled with my friends, had brief attempts at weight loss and hovered over salad bars, I wondered if the garbanzo beans
were calorically low enough to be included in my pile of greenery and anemic salad dressing.

One day I asked the waitress at the local Ruby Tuesday’s in Alabama if they had garbanzo beans. She stared at me as if I were a Yankee who had come to ransack her plantation.

“What’s that?” she said in utter disgust.

So I described it, as much as one can manage wording to verbally recreate a non-descript object.

She replied, “You mean chickpeas?”

At this point, I was trying to be patient. I am fully aware that people from the Southern part of our great nation often have different names for things–usually with a country tinge to them.

“Chickpeas?” I questioned. “I’ve never heard them called that.”

As we were conversing, a lovely woman, gracious and well-spoken, came up and added, “Both names are correct.”

She had an English accent.

I was aggravated. I thought I had a young southern girl trapped in a language faux pas–and then this agent straight from the throne of the King’s English steps over to thwart my enthusiasm.

“See, I told ya’,” drawled the girl, strolling away.

I glanced over at the dignified Englishwoman and said, with great conviction, “I will always be a garbanzo man.”

 

Donate Button

Approach

dictionary with letter A

Ap·proach (n): 1. a way of dealing with something. E.G.: “We need a whole new approach.”

I find myself in Clarksville, Tennessee.

If you’re going to be a journeyman, you should be prepared to journey and become a better man in all situations.

I think I pride myself in the fact that I’m able to blend with various cultures and be of benefit to the people around me, as they also share their flavors and insights in my direction.

At breakfast this morning, there was a man who serves the food, who happens to be a fellow of color. I had been interacting with him for several days with a bit of conversation, generosity and expressing interest in his life.

Honestly, I felt quite cosmopolitan doing so, feeling that I was “a man for all seasons.” (Remember, arrogance is always more likely when one thinks one is being righteous)

As I sat at breakfast, two other young chaps, who happened to be of his hue, came into the room, sat down, and began to talk. I didn’t want to be impolite by listening in, but I did anyway, and it didn’t make any difference.

I was only able to catch about every tenth word and make out its meaning from my limited translating ears.

My acquaintance was a different individual around these two than he was with me. I realized that when he spoke to me he was more cautious, overly respectful and maintained a certain distance.

It wouldn’t even have occurred to me had these two gentlemen not come in and brought out his internal workings. I realized that through the combination of the Southern culture, his upbringing, racial tensions in America, and honestly, my ignorance, that he and I had barely brushed against each other.

I had deceived myself into believing that I was a “great communicator,” when really, I was still just a color, a shape and an obstacle.

It gave me pause.

What is the approach we will need to cross these horrible barriers we’ve constructed between each other, and to heal the inconsideration and atrocities of careless ancestors?

I’m not sure what the approach should be, but I know that somewhere along the line we will have to be honest about our lackings, laugh at our weaknesses and give some good ground to one another–or nothing will change.

 

Donate Button

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

Abscise

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abscise: v. to cut off or away.

The problem with cutting is that it’s always done too quickly, with an impetuous disregard. We are so determined to divide some piece of a whole into parts that we snip away with careless abandon, leaving a jagged edge.

Oh, yes–I encounter the frayed ends every single day of my life. People are finding themselves divided by careless leaders and causes, determined to create animosity instead of finding a way to generate a sense of union.

It’s all over our country.

The Mason Dixon line is not a smooth pathway that differentiates between “Northern and Southern thinking,” but rather, a deep-rooted tear in the fabric of our nation, continuing a verbal Civil War–between those who feel progressive and those loyal to a former time.

Even in the medical field of surgery, cutting is a last resort. It is what the doctor chooses to do when the combination of medications and the human immune system fail to unite to dispel the infection.

Is it possible for us to join forces to vomit the evil from our thoughts as a nation instead of continuing to cut our flesh like some frustrated teenage girl, aggravated by her neurotic insecurity? I don’t know.

But what I have decided is to never be part of the abscising of the “Body Americana” merely to demonstrate my power and prowess. I am not better without you. I am not self-sufficient. I cannot be ripped from the lineage of my fellow-citizens and expect to maintain the integrity of my birthright and freedom.

I cannot decry you of your rights and sleep at night, content in my own. I cannot make fun of you because you fail to recognize my obvious superiority and still keep my intelligence intact.

There are people who are proud of the fact that they stand up for their cause by tearing apart everything around them. Historically, they have been called ignorant, traitors, fools and backward thinking. They will be again.

I offer no malice to them whatsoever. But I also refuse to join their mob.

I plan on doing no abscising.  I am walking around my country with a needle and thread, looking for ways to repair the breach.