My son-in-law in Dallas may have a case of shingles. We are holding our breath. If so, my deepest regrets and heart-felt consolation. Bad days lie ahead.
To begin with, I don’t know what cavalier individual gave this ailment its name. “Shingles” denotes something mild, almost benign. Certainly nothing worthy of considering self-immolation. Those who have been the recipient of the news, “you have shingles” can attest that the word of enlightenment arrived while they were in the greatest pain and discomfort they had ever experienced. A level of bodily rebellion that the word “shingles” did not begin to comprehend or in any manner cover as a designation.
This ailment deserves at least four syllables and perhaps a couple of umlauts.
Omnicusonerviosis comes to mind.
While it is made up, “shingles” sounds even moreso. Think about it, you know that “whooping cough” is a pretty violent bodily reaction by the name. Even the dictionary uses "convulsive spasmodic" to identify the severity of the infection. Shingles? I think not! (Anything rhyming with “jingles” can’t be bad.)
When the name was first used in Medieval Europe, you would think that with all that they had at their disposal, what with the plagues and all the pillaging a more apt, descriptive word for the infection could have evolved. But, it was the “Dark Ages” and perhaps the scribe was running low on paraffin.
Shingles horribilis would have been a step closer.
This leads me to thinking about the number of mislabels that hound our lives.
The first that comes to mind, of course, is the Tea Party, the name given to that rabid conservative political group. I feel certain that the woman who had the foot of a burly male crushed against her head as she was pushed down to the pavement had never been to a party or afternoon tea where that was acceptable behavior. Not even the Mad Hatter behaved so poorly.
Of course, I am aware that the group is attempting to draw a significance from the events in the Boston Harbor many years ago, but I find the mission of the former far more profound than the antics of the latter.
While Sarah P is in herself, a mislabel, she called on the Muslim community to “refudiate” the mosque planned for New York.
This leads me to “negativity.” I should probably get over it, but it “drives me crazy.”
Speaking of driving, why does an airplane “taxi?”
My father had a habit of combining “flustered” with “frustrated” in a type of Archie Bunkerism that came out, “flusterated.” (We “humored” him.)
There is no more laid-back dish than one of black-eyed peas and rice, but it is called, “Hoppin’ John.”
I am skeptical of a bakery that advertises “homemade” cakes and pies.
“Garage Sale” is another misnomer. The garage is definitely not included in the offering. Nor is the lawn in a “yard sale.”
“Don’t walk” has no meaning to teenagers and people about to miss the bus. A "red light" in Chicago has no meaning to the first three cars behind the white line when it occurs.
Doesn’t editing a reality show negate the concept?
My son, at a very young age, always used “outsecure” when he meant “insecure.” I think his take on the situation was much more perceptive.
On the other side of the coin are the words that just fit the bill.
A perfect word is caravanserai or caravansary. It speaks of the situation and sounds exotic.
Of course, depending on your budget, you might use Motel 6.
“Divinity” that sweet concoction of egg whites, sugar, and pecans that appeared magically each Christmas in my childhood is aptly named.
I suppose that type of “hitting the nail on the head” was what my father had in mind when he called sexual intimacy, “shaky pudding.”
But I digress.
On the same day that my son-in-law was troubled with symptoms of shingles, he also lost the cap on a tooth. My daughter remarked, “Maybe I should have kicked the tires before I bought the car.”
There was an old guy back in Alabama who always, when shopping for a new automobile, would kick the tires and remark, “Good tires, and ‘durn’ good rubber.”
Reduntantly appropriate?
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