Just for the record, I’m declaring it summer whether the rains stop or not.
Just for the record, I’m declaring it summer whether the rains stop or not.
Two recent surveys have identified what is being depicted as a “new trend” on the dating scene: the “foodie call.” It happens when one person goes out with another person that they really aren’t that interested in — just to get a free meal.
The two surveys of heterosexual women were conducted by Azusa Pacific University and the University of California-Merced, and the results were published in the journal of the Society for Personality and Social Psychology. The participants were asked questions about their personalities, the views on gender roles, and their views, and personal histories, with “foodie calls.” In one survey, one third of the respondents admitted to going out on a date just to get a free meal, and in the second survey 23 percent of the study group admitted to a “foodie call.” The research also found that the majority of respondents were aghast at the concept of a “foodie call” and believed it to be moderately to extremely unacceptable.
What are we to make of “foodie calls”? Speaking as someone who enjoys a good meal from time to time, I don’t think being motivated, in whole or in part, to go out on a date to get a good meal is incredibly egregious behavior. I also think, however, that people who go on “foodie calls” might be selling themselves short, and I wonder if they ultimately find the meals very satisfying. Spending two or three hours with somebody you really have no interest in and making cheery chit-chat that entire time would be exhausting, and is a pretty high price to pay for some fine dining. Meals are supposed to be a pleasant, shared experience, and having to work hard to maintain a conversation would tend to interfere with your enjoyment of the cuisine.
As for the guys who’ve paid for the “foodie calls” — well, if the person you’ve asked out starts negotiating with you about the only restaurants that would be acceptable destinations for the date, you might just want to be on guard.
Anyone who does much writing will eventually confront the question of the best way to give emphasis to a particular word or phrase in what they have written. Maybe it’s a desire to attach special significance to part of a quote, or a need to make absolutely sure that the reader doesn’t miss a central point — but the time will come where, to be on the safe side, emphasis must be added.
So, what’s the best way to emphasize the written word? The basic options, currently, are using underlines, italics, or boldface. Some people then use a combination of the three to give even more emphasis. (Back when I first started working, in the days long before social media and texting, some people used all caps to provide emphasis. Now the all-caps look is generally perceived by the reader as screaming, and there’s very little being written about that needs that much emphasis. What you want is for the reader’s internal voice to “think” the word being emphasized just a bit louder than the rest of the text, and not have them mentally screaming like a character in a bad teen horror movie.)
My emphasis tastes vary depending on what I’m writing. For blog entries like this one, I prefer to use italics to give a word that special nudge. For legal briefs, however, where case names are italicized and section headings are in bold print, I tend to use simple underlining to emphasize specific text. That way, there’s no mixing up the message.
And I don’t like using various combinations of bold, italics, and underlining to give extra-special emphasis to certain words or passages. For one thing, I think random mixtures of “emphasis-adders” is confusing to the reader; it suggests that there is some emphasis hierarchy that the readers hasn’t been told about, which may leave them wondering about relative emphasis rather than concentrating on what is written. (“Let’s see — is don’t supposed to get more emphasis than don’t, or is it the other way around?”) And using multiple combinations for some words seems to devalue the words that merit only a single emphasizer. I think emphasis-adders should be used sparingly, and if you’ve got to use combinations you’re probably overdoing emphasis to the point where the message is being lost. You might want to think about editing your sentences to be shorter and clearer, instead. Plus, the use of random combinations of emphasizers makes the printed page look messy, like a riotous fruit salad.
So, my rule of thumb on adding emphasis is to stick to one — and only one — technique, and to use it sparingly. If you write clearly, you’ll be just fine with that.
For many years now, one of my standard holiday gifts to Kish has been a “word-a-day” calendar. It’s a calendar that features a different, typically unusual word each day, gives you the definition and the pronunciation — if you can decipher those weird pronunciation symbols, that is — and then provides a quote that uses the word in a sentence.
It’s an interesting thing to check out each day, and a chance to engage in a little vocabulary building. Typically the words on the calendar fall into three categories: words we already know and use, words that you would never try to work into a conversation, and words that you actually think could become part of your standard word-stock. The first category is easily the smallest in size, but when the calendar does use a word we already use — yesterday’s word, for example, was rarefied — you feel a certain sense of accomplishment. The second category is the largest. Sometimes the words are so technical that there really is no chance to use them in everyday conversation, and others are so high-falutin’ you can’t imagine dropping them into a discussion. Tomorrow’s word, for example, is faineant, with an accent over the e, which means idle and ineffectual or indolent. I doubt I could even pronounce that one properly, much less find an opportunity to use it correctly.
But the third category is why you buy the calendar. Today’s word, quiddity, falls into that category. My favorite recent word in that category is gorgonize, which means to have a paralyzing or mesmerizing effect, and is synonymous with stupefy or petrify. I’m saving that one up for a choice opportunity — like when one of my friends tells a long-winded story about people I don’t know at lunch and I confess that their tale gorgonized me.
I prevailed in our Game of Thrones Death Pool at work, and in addition to invaluable bragging rights and a modest amount of cash, I won this nifty Hand of the Queen/King pin. Accordingly, I am now ready to offer sage advice to any bloodthirsty tyrant who might sit on the heap of melted slag that once was the Iron Throne.
Later this month, Kish and I are going to a conference for work. The organization sponsoring the conference is celebrating its 40th anniversary and decided to mark the occasion by having a party where everyone dresses up like people did in the year the organization was founded.
It’s a clever idea, but for those of you who are mathematically challenged, that means we’re supposed to party like it’s 1979.
This will be a tough challenge, because I don’t have any ’70s-style clothing. In fact, it’s fair to say that I have tried to get as far away from ’70s garb, and ’70s hairstyles, as is humanly possible. Having gone to high school and college in the ’70s, I enjoyed ’70s rock music then and still do, and I can definitely wax nostalgic about the shows and skits put on by the first cast of Saturday Night Live. But the clothes and haircuts of that decade are another thing entirely. Loud “leisure” suits, platform shoes, brightly colored, patterned polyester shirts that were manufactured without any breathing, natural fibers, monster bell bottoms with huge cuffs, enormous sideburns, and carefully combed hair helmets only begin to scratch the surface.
So don’t talk to me about “’70s style” — in reality, that’s a self-contradictory phrase. From a physical appearance standpoint, the ’70s is undoubtedly the ugliest decade in American history, when the clothing and grooming industries pulled a fast one on the gullible citizens of this great nation, and I’ve consciously tried to put it out of my mind since the calendar page turned to January 1, 1980.
Kish and I have talked about where we might go to find ’70s clothes, but I’m afraid if we bought such items at a thrift store they might end up infecting the rest of the clothing in our closets.
The bottom drawer of the vanity in our bathroom has a pretty good collection of hotel soaps, shampoos, conditioners, hand lotion, and mouthwash I’ve brought home from business trips over the years. Now the New York Times is reporting that the days of tiny hotel bottles of shampoo may be ending.
According to the Times, the little shampoo bottles are the focus of efforts by the large hotel chains, and lawmakers in states like California, to reduce plastic waste. A bill working its way through the California legislature would outlaw the tiny bottles, and some hotel chains are already moving to refillable dispensers instead. (Of course, the Times being what it is, it quotes “home organizers” who can explain to high-brow readers that some of us in the hoi polloi bring the elfin bottles home to use, and who can tsk-tsk at the unseemly clutter they create.)
The Times article suggests that some people bring the tiny bottles home as souvenirs of place they’ve stayed. That’s not my impetus — I do it because I’m cheap about stuff like that. It’s not like my grizzled mop needs high-end shampoos and conditioners; I’ll use whatever. If I can bring home bottles of shampoo and soaps so that I don’t have to buy them myself, why not do so? I haven’t bought shampoo in years. It’s a small savings, I know, but I figure that all of that penny-pinching will allow Kish and me to enjoy a few extra “Early Bird Special” dinners after we’re retired.
I’ve stayed at hotels with the new wall-mounted soap and shampoo dispensers. They’re fine, of course, although they definitely do have a more institutional feel to them — like you’re staying at the Hotel Kabul youth hostel rather than at a nice hotel. Nevertheless, I’m all in favor of reducing the plastic waste that is clogging the oceans and landfills, and those tiny bottles seem like a good place to start. I’m sure I’ll get used to the dispensers. Besides, I only use small dollops of the shampoo to work my hair into a good lather, so with the collection of tiny bottles we’ve got in the bottom drawer I’m covered for a good long while.