Odds and ends

1. Some back-formations drive me bonkers. Others, not so much. When you're around me, therefore, please say orient, not orientate. Converse, not conversate. Reveal, not revelate. Crown, not coronate. Don't make awkward new verbs out of good nouns (orientation, conversation, revelation, coronation) when perfectly good verbs already exist that express what you want to say (the aforementioned orient, converse, reveal, crown). Here's more on the subject by an Irishman named Stan Carey.

2. My all-time favorite (British, favourite) helpful household hint is found, appropriately enough, in a book entitled Phyllis Diller's Household Hints. Remember her? Zany, wacko comedienne. Is that word still politically correct? I suppose not. If we must say flight attendant instead of stewardess, I guess we should abandon comedienne and say joke teller. Maybe we already have. I'm always one of the last to know.

Here's Phyllis's hint: If you let your children write their names in the dust on your dining room table, don't let them write the date." That has to be the best household hint ever.

Phyllis wrote several books along the way. Here are some of them:

I'm as sure as I can be (although I have been wrong on occasion) that you can't get enough of Phyllis. Here she is doing her schtick (and, let us not forget, earning a lot of money) as a guest on Liberace's program back in the 1960s (8:45).

And here she is playing the piano with Liberace (gasp!) on the same program (2:56).

Finally -- and you really should listen to this -- here is Phyllis Diller at the age of 94 in January 2012 (she turned 95 in July and died in August that same year) singing "Smile" (3:04). Although she doesn't have a great voice, anyone who still wants to sing at 94 should probably be paid attention to.

3. Another writer, Lewis Grizzard, who wrote humor (British, humour) columns for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution for many years, also tried his hand at books. It is my considered opinion that the best things about Lewis Grizzard's books were their titles. I was never enamored (British, enamoured) of what lay between the covers. Here (wouldn't you know) is a list of some of his titles:

Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You (1979).
Elvis Is Dead and I Don't Feel So Good Myself (1980).
Won't You Come Home, Billy Bob Bailey? (1980).
Don't Sit Under the Grits Tree With Anyone Else But Me (1981).
They Tore Out My Heart and Stomped That Sucker Flat (1982).
If Love Were Oil, I'd Be About a Quart Low (1983).
Shoot Low Boys, They're Ridin' Shetland Ponies (1985).
My Daddy Was a Pistol and I'm a Son of a Gun (1987)
When My Love Returns From the Ladies Room, Will I Be Too Old to Care? (1987).
Don't Bend Over in the Garden, Granny, You Know Them 'Taters Got Eyes (1988).
Chili Dawgs Always Bark at Night (1989).
If I Ever Get Back to Georgia, I'm Gonna Nail My Feet to the Ground (1990).
Advice to the Newly Wed . . . & the Newly Divorced (1990).
Does a Wild Bear Chip in the Woods? (the book is about golf) (1990).
You Can't Put No Boogie-Woogie on the King of Rock and Roll (1991).
Don't Forget to Call Your Mama, I Wish I Could Call Mine (1991).
I Haven't Understood Anything Since 1962: And Other Nekkid Truths (1992).
I Took a Lickin' and Kept on Tickin' and Now I Believe in Miracles (1993).

4. Finally, here from a long time ago (the 1950s) is a violin duet by Jack Benny and Gisele MacKensie (2:24). The voice at the beginning calling it legendary is none other than Walter Cronkite. If those three names don't ring a bell, I feel truly sorry for you.

Until next time, I remain your faithful correspondent.

De Profundis, or maybe Day Profundis

Today a friend of ours underwent surgery at St. Joseph's Hospital in Atlanta to have the aortic valve in her heart replaced with one that came from a pig. This is the same operation that Atlanta Journal-Constitution columnist Lewis Grizzard had a few years back and then wrote about in a book entitled They Tore Out My Heart And Stomped That Sucker Flat. Lewis wrote several books over the years and for my money their titles were the best thing about them. For example, one of his books was called Shoot Low, Boys, They're Riding Shetland Ponies and another was called Don't Bend Over In The Garden, Granny, You Know Them Taters Got Eyes. I went to the hospital and sat with our friend's husband and daughter during the hours they spent in the surgical waiting room. I'm happy to report that the operation was a resounding success. I had almost forgotten what rush hour in Atlanta is like, but today brought it all back.

Before I went to the hospital, I drove over to Woodstock to tend to the morning needs of Sharpie, my son's two-year-old black Labrador. Sharpie's needs are pretty basic; they include being fed, being petted and talked baby talk to profusely, and being let outside to run and do the things every dog has to do. This evening, after I returned home from the hospital, I drove back over to Woodstock to take care of Sharpie's evening needs. These, oddly enough, are very similar to his morning needs. More than very similar. Actually the correct phrase is "indistinguishable from." I get to do this through Saturday because my son and his family decided to go on a quick vacation to Clearwater, Florida, while the schools around here are closed for five days for mid-winter break. Unplanned vacations are possible in my son's family because he and his wife are self-employed fauxers of doors and are able to set their own work schedules. You might not believe it, but fauxing of doors is very big in upscale neighborhoods hereabouts, almost as big as owning black Labradors. Unplanned dog-sitting and visits to hospitals are possible in my own family because my wife and I are both retired.

The point of this post is to remind us, one and all, that life is what happens to you while you are making other plans. Or, put a little differently, as life goes on, life goes on.

This is probably my most profound post yet.