Tag Archives: words from dictionary

Abecedarian

by J. R. Practixdictionary with letter A

Abecedarian:  adj. (1) arranged alphabetically (2) rudimentary, elementary: abecedarian technology (3) n. a person who is just learning, a novice

I never end up looking dumb unless I insist that I’m not dumb when I really am dumb and therefore, in conclusion, am proclaimed to be … well, dumb.

I wish I could learn this for all time. I still have this great desire to embellish, puff up my credentials and overstate my qualities. I guess I’m afraid that if I don’t toot my own horn, nothing horny will ever occur, so to speak.

When I was younger and flirting, I sometimes made the mistake of postulating on my prowess and then later found out, when someone took me up on my offer, that all of my claims were easily disproven in reality. Very embarrassing.

Yes, it is very important to be an abecedarian in the realm of sexuality. In no other category of life do false promises come to light quite as quickly as with that particular maneuver–followed in a close second by education.

I assume we are all occasionally tempted to make our menial qualifications of learning appear to be more “Ivy League.” But with the availability of the Internet, Google search and the suspicion of the general populace, one’s academic history can be acquired with too much ease to ever graduate yourself to a false state.

And then there’s abilities. I can always tell when someone has no talent. They talk to you about how much talent they have. Actually, that’s the beauty of talent–you don’t have to talk, advertise, promote or print a brochure. You can just punch a button inside your soul–and do it.

So I’m glad there’s a name for the profile of appearing to be a novice in life as a protection against the dangers of exaggeration. Let me just simplify things and say I am an abecedarian. And then maybe human beings–and God, in His infinite mercy–will grant me some much-needed slack.

Abeam

by J. R. Practixdictionary with letter A

Abeam:  adv. on a line at right angles to a ship’s or an aircraft’s length.

The only trouble with right-wing ideas is that they make left-wing notions appear sane.

Nowadays there is a great thrust to take the direction, spirituality and even artistry of our country abeam.  We are trying to create a right angle and in the process ending up with ideas that are left behind.

It’s really quite simple–since we can’t go back and change anything and the future is yet to be determined, someone needs to have the intelligence to get us to pursue matters in the present. Without this, we have a tendency to go abeam. We try to play it safe. We try to mimic things we saw during our upbringing which appeared to be more righteous. Actually we were just surrounded by hidden sin, which is not that different from burying a turd in a cake.

On the other hand, there are those who think the best procedure in dealing with human beings is to allow complete liberty with no restraints, granting each and every person the innate excuse of “being born a certain way”–which forces them into a behavior seemingly beyond their control.

I don’t know if there is a left angle, but maybe I can rename that abomb.

So in an attempt to prevent us from going abeam–too much at a right angle–or abomb–a left turn on red–we really require some simple-minded folks who will just steer the ship for today, without consulting the manual from former times or speculating on which way the river will turn tomorrow.

Otherwise, I think we’re just destined to go abeam. Or maybe … abomb.

To do my part, I will honor three ideas:

  1. Yesterday wasn’t better, or we wouldn’t be doing half the things we do today.
  2. Tomorrow is not the end of the world or even the beginning. It’s just what we make it.
  3. Do the best with the supplies we have in front of us today.

This will probably keep us from going abeam or abomb.

I don’t know how popular the approach will be–because it’s not crazy.

And it seems that nowadays a certain amount of insanity is necessary to draw a crowd.

Abdul-Jabbar

by J. R. Practixdictionary with letter A

Abdul-Jabbar, Kareem: (1947-    ) U.S. basketball player; former name Lewis Ferdinand Alcindor. He played professionally for the Milwaukee Bucks from 1969-75 and the Los Angeles Lakers from 1975-89 and holds several records.

He was a thing of beauty.

I know men are not supposed to say that about other men. In today’s society we disguise our homophobia by silently being suspicious of any close contact or admiration expressed between folks of the same gender.

But Kareem (who was also an Abdul) was a fabulous basketball player. He did something called the “sky-hook,” which was really just a huge toss of the basketball high in the air over his head, which for the normal person would have had about a 3.3% chance of sinking the hole, but for him was in the high 60’s.Abdul Jabbar

But he sealed his immortality in my soul when he appeared in the movie Airplane as the humongously over-sized pilot who was hiding out from his real occupation, pretending he was NOT a famous athlete. I remember watching the movie, thinking how brave it was for him to step off the court into this new arena of acting, realizing that he would be a huge target for criticism, but took the risk anyway.

Yes, Abdul going into the movie industry was like the ultimate sky-hook. He just tossed it off, over his head, high into the air, confident that it would split the cords. He played with great players and still looked great. That’s pretty remarkable.

Most of us choose to hang around inferiors so that our work will appear to be stellar. Not Mr. K. A. J. He shared the glory with his teammates, but when their expertise failed to pull off the miracle of the win, he took his seven-foot-plus frame, and leaped in to save the day.

You know what else is interesting? He seems to be a really nice guy. I mean, it’s special when someone is humble because they decide to select humility–but upon careful gazing at their record, you are not surprised they have chosen that profile. But when somebody has set benchmarks in excellence, but still chooses simplicity and humility, it is a reminder that struggling to put oneself into the spotlight is an invitation to get bumped from the stage by someone on the A list.

I guess he’s a Muslim. If all Muslims were like Kareem, most of their public relations problems would be alleviated. So along about the same time that Cassius Clay became Mohammed Ali, Lou Alcindor became Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Here’s the beauty: they didn’t turn into religious fanatics who blew up mosques.

They used their talents to become better people and create a more enjoyable world.

Abdul Hamid II

by J. R. Practixdictionary with letter A

Abdul Hamid II: (1842-1918) the last sultan of Turkey, from 1876-1909. An autocratic ruler, he was deposed after the revolt of the Young Turks.

My dad was a short, German man who was very faithful to his duties but felt no real compulsion to step out of the box, but instead, built a life within one.

I have nothing bad to say about him at all. Matter of fact, he made it kind of easy for me to be my own person without–somebody reminding me all the time that I was his son. That’s kind of nice.

For you see, it’s really tough when you’re Abdul the Second. People walkin’ up to you talking about how good your dad was, how fair, how clever–always winking and suggesting that you might want to become a little bit more like him.

After all, Abdul II never thought he was going to be the last sultan. He ended up being the last sultan because he SUCKED. To continue the reign of sultans, you have to be a pretty good one so that your kid has a chance to screw up later.

That’s what happened with Abdul I. He was a good enough sultan that they let him continue to be one, and then, when he passed it on to his son. . . well,  his boy fumbled the ball on the three yard line.

So I guess it would be better stated that Abdul was the last turkey to be a sultan.

We all need to realize that it is better not to give our children our name, forcing them to live in the shadow of our deeds, good and bad.

Poor Abdul II.

He was just an old ruler overcome by young Turks.

Abduct

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAbduct: v.  to take someone away illegally by force or deception; kidnap.

I think I could sell that product.

I think I could make an infomercial and take in millions of dollars off of a new idea called Ab-Duct. It would be a duct-tape, manufactured in flesh colors, which you wrap around your midsection to produce the illusion of tight abs. I would sell a pen set along with the Ab-Duct, so you could draw in the muscles to make it look more authentic.

I think I even have a by-line: “Use our tape to bind up your faults and weaknesses and kidnap your flab.”

What do you think?

Of course, you’d have to offer the warning that if you kept the tape on too long it might cause you to get gangrene and die. But other than that, for like two hours of GUARANTEED leanness, you could have your flesh-colored duct tape completely holding in the more “gutteral” parts of your being.

Another possible weakness is that the fat that had settled into your lower Mississippi delta would push up to the top, making it appear that you had sprouted breasts. But this could be overcome, I’m sure, in some sort of marketing angle, or just the suggestion that you never remove your clothing.

Ab-Duct:  for those who want to capture their plumpness–and once and for all, win the Battle of the Bulge.

 

Abdomen

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abdomen: n. the part of the body of a vertebrate containing the digestive organs–the belly. It is bounded by the diaphragm and the pelvis.

I can certainly see why it didn’t catch on. There is something too bizarre about “trust your abdomen.” I think that’s why we ended up with “gut.”

But you see, I’ve always found trust your gut to be VERY poor advice. My abdomen–or if you want to be “street-talkin'” in your ways–gut–is often misleading to my own good. My gut tells me to continue in fantasies and prejudices that were ingrained in me before I had a chance to be more discretionary about what was allowed in my abdomen.

My gut is my predictable. And truthfully, friends, my predictable is not my best. My best mingles what I know with what I need to know with how dumb I am and how willing I am to get smarter. Abdomen logic rarely factors in our own depravity.

I also don’t trust my abdomen–or gut–to lead me in the paths of righteousness concerning good nutrition, health and longevity. For instance, last night my abdomen desired a piece of cake. I haven’t had a piece of cake for a long time, so I was a little surprised when my gut hatched the whim. My abdomen, with its appetite, joined in cooperation with my gut instinct, with ITS great ability to rationalize my faults, and tempted me to not only eat a small sliver of cake but to also pursue a much more humongous hunk of the gunk.

So you see, my gut has too many opinions and too big of an appetite to be trusted or allowed to run much of anything in my pursuit of sanity.

So here’s to the abdomen–with a caveat: make sure that your gut digests all the information available AND that it does not decide exactly what and how much you’re going to eat.

Otherwise, your abdomen will too soon make you belly up.

Abdicate

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAbdicate: v. renounce one’s throne. 

I decided not to look up the actual names, because if I start being too accurate in my daily writings, I might get mistaken for an educational source or a fountain of knowledge. But memory serves me that some prince in England a long time ago fell in love with a commoner and because he wasn’t allowed to marry her because she . . . I don’t know . . . maybe was common? . . . they made him give up his throne for love.

It’s so silly. First of all, there’s nothing common about love. It’s a rarity–difficult to trap in a bottle and certainly should not be ignored to pursue some “crowning achievement.” And the question I have is this: what kind of dude would he have been if he had passed over the chick to wear the golden hat? I mean, I’m not trying to take away his props, but when you flip things and look at them from the other direction, some of the noble things we say we do are really just you and I, every once in a while, actually being smart and demanding they build a memorial on the site in honor of the special occasion.

So what’s he gonna do? Walk up to his babe and say, “Listen, dear. I just found out how common you are. I had no idea. Perhaps it would have been good of YOU to let me know the lacking you have in rarities. So here’s the scoop. Mum says I can’t have you and still eat caviar with the kings of the earth. You surely understand. We’ve had some good times, and in the future, as I boff my ugly queen of choice, I will remember your face.”

You see what I mean? We often think that we abdicate things we never actually had in the first place or weren’t that big of a deal compared to what we did pursue, which brought both some immediate pleasure and lasting satisfaction.

Just remember–there are two things that are ugly when touted by human beings: being pious and being stupid.

And generally speaking, they arrive in the same car.

 

ABCs

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

ABCs: n  the alphabet.

That cursed little kiddy-song about the ABCs is certainly the melodic crack cocaine which I still find myself addicted to as an adult, often completely unable to remember any singular letter without performing the entire ensemble. For years, as a kid, I was convinced that L-M-N-O-P were really just one letter, cohabitating many spiritual forms, since they are sung together so quickly.

I think we may be missing an opportunity to ingrain our young children with other equally as intoxicating melodic subliminal messages, to forever affect their lives.

How about this, for instance? (Sung to the same tune as the ABCs):

Al-ways be nice, clean your room,

Treat your mom and dad real well

Don’t hit little friends you know

And grow up making lots of dough

A doctor, yes–lawyer, sure

Go and find a cancer cure

Then you’ll make your parents glad

And the neighbors jealous and mad.

Then you’ll be the envy of all

Rule the world and have a ball.

You see what I mean? We could control the destiny of our offspring and channel them towards prosperity simply by forcing that particular tune into their brains.

It worked for the ABCs. I am adrift on a sea of numerals, “Roman the waves,”  without the song.

Music may be the answer to the world’s problems. And if it isn’t, I don’t give politics much of a chance, either…

 

Abbreviate and Abbreviation

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abbreviate: v. to shorten a word, phrase or text. Abbreviation: n. the shortened form of a word, phrase or text

Short speech

Midgets and dwarves

Half the distance

Premature evaluation

Amputated proposals

Limited range

Reader’s Digest virgin

Cramped confession

Cut off at the past

Trim the lawn

Losing girth (Brooks) …

And the shortest distance between two pints is one quart.

Above is the abbreviated list of topics I was going to include in my essay. You may now put it together for yourself.

Abbey Road

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAbbey Road: a road in northwestern London in England, west of Regents Park, the site of recording studios that are associated with the Beatles and other pop music figures.

John, Paul, Ringo and George were so upsetting to my parents that even though they were not religious people, both of them were convinced that the fab four collectively were the anti-Christ, even though my mom and dad were not all that pro-Christ themselves.

The "funeral procession" on the cove...

The “funeral procession” on the cover of Abbey Road (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t know whether we’ll see another phenomenon like the Beatles in the next one hundred years. It was kind of the perfect storm of cultural upheaval. They had the look of anarchy with their long hair and pointed boots. They had the music of anarchy, which included blues chords taken directly out of the Mississippi Delta from the Negra culture. They had the habits of anarchy in the sense that they appeared to be clean-cut young men until you got close to them and found out that they were rather renegade. And they had the philosophy of anarchy because they didn’t believe that Jesus was as popular as they were.

I was not allowed to listen to the British invasion in my home as a youngster, but rather, had to escape over to Paul Morgenstern’s house to hear the wicked tunes on his radio. I was so obsessed with both the melodies and the general rebellion of being away from home and frolicking to the tunes that I took my clumsy, white, doughboy body and danced in their living room–until Paul’s mother walked in one day and caught me, and wasn’t sure whether to scream, giggle or run out the back door into the outhouse and hide.

I wasn’t invited back much after that. I kept up with the Beatles’ career by going to friends’ houses for overnight stays, where I would gluttonize on the hits, hoping that in the days of musical starvation to follow, I would be able to sustain myself.

My parents have since passed away, leaving behind adequate gravestones to mark their presence. Meanwhile, the Beatles failed to end the world, but instead, granted it a few moments of pleasure from their recording perch up there on Abbey Road.

It gives me pause today when I see people wrangling and wrestling over cultural phenomena–to stop for a moment and not participate simply because I am age-worthy.

It is rather doubtful that the world will end with a great rock and roll song. My guess would be the closing gavel at a political convention.