The Pun Also Rises
(as seen in the North Adams Transcript)
"Around the World in 30 Words"
March is supposed to come
in like a lion and go out like a lamb. But I prefer to think that
March comes in like a bear and goes out like an Irishman.
Let me explain.
They say that the Eskimos have 30 words for snow. And the reason
for this is that snow is very important to their culture and life.
If you are living in frozen lands as an Eskimo, chances are that
you'll constantly be experiencing snow. And while there are other
things that you might need words for, such as "Look out for
that seal!" or "My snot froze to my upper lip again",
the most common thing around is going to be snow.
English doesn't have 30 words for snow, even here in the Berkshires.
We have a few colorful expressions, such as "It's raining cats
and dogs" or "It's hailing taxis" or "It's coming
down like President Bush's approval rating". Still, this leaves
us with a large gap in our snow-cabulary.
While I was in college, I came up with a few words to more accurately
describe local snow, which I'll share here.
-Sprizzle: This is the tiny, almost non-existent snowish substance
that seems powdered atop the real world, like sugar on a donut that
you know is going to be all over your clothes for the rest of the
day. You can watch sheets of snow blowing across the ground like
a giant white sandstorm. Of course, at other times you can watch
the snow fly directly into your eyes, down your shirt, and up your
nose.
-Crounk: Crounk is that kind of snow that's crunchy on the outside
but chewy on the inside. Like a taco, only less spicy. You've got
the regular powdery snow that's fallen and piled up, but the top
has iced over and is a bit shimmery and sparkly. And it looks like
you can walk on top of it, but then the surface breaks through and
*crounk!*
-Splooshdang: A mass of watery slush hidden beneath a layer of
innocent-looking snow. Often not identifiable until it's too late.
You know what I mean if you've ever said: "Oh, I'll just avoid
the icy sidewalk by walking on the sno--" *SPLOOSH!* "Dang."
Even if we add that trio to our current roster of Snow, Sleet, and
Hail, we're not even close to 30 words. We can't truly experience
the range of snow, because we'd rather go inside and hide from it.
Hence, like a bear, we'd rather hibernate from the snow for the
beginning of March.
Many sociologists have often said that the best way to understand
a culture is to study its language. A language with no word for
"war" may belong to a peaceful culture. And a language
with 30 words for "cheese" is a culture that appreciates
cultures, which I want to join. But we don't have 30 words for snow
or cheese.
What do we have 30 words for? I'll give you a hint: Tomorrow is
St. Patrick's Day.
No, it's not leprechaun. A leprechaun is a short, crazed little
man with a pot of gold. We only have two words for that, "Leprechaun"
and "Ross Perot". St. Patrick's Day isn't really about
leprechauns, though. It's about the celebration of something that,
like it or not, is a huge part of American culture and often defines
our recreation. When Americans go out, by and large, they go out
drinking.
Tomorrow is one of the year's biggest days for it. But don't just
go out and get drunk. You should get blitzed, blotto, bombed, buttered,
clobbered, cockeyed, fershnikit, freightyarded, fuddled, hammered,
inebriated, intoxicated, loaded, mohawked, nobbied, pickled, pissed,
plastered, plowed, potted, ripped, slopped, sloshed, smashed, soused,
sozzled, squiffy, stewed, stinko, and tanked.
And above all, be careful on the roads. After all, you never know
when you'll run into some Splooshdang.
___________________________________
Seth Brown is a local humor writer whose language has 30 words
for "hungry". His website is www.RisingPun.com
All work on this page is copyright Seth Brown.
If you are sharing it, please give attribution. If you want to reprint
it, please contact me first.
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