Perspective

Perspective

Found at the Chicago Public Library. 

Books give you a better perspective on life.

Some wag over at Reddit posted this filk:

LreCOuB

It’s not a bad analogy. Books serve many functions. They make you smarter, increase your vocabulary, help you write better, improve your analytical thinking, reduce stress, bump your memory skills, broaden your horizons, help you see deeper into reality, and they can be a delightful escape from life’s challenges. The image above implies that books occasionally present a dark reality; “If it be true I am content to have paid the price–for the memory.”[1]

The Old Wolf has spoken.


[1] James, Henry, “The Real Thing.”

Standing with Boston Today

[Edit] It has been pointed out that the list below is somewhat dated. Bostonians, do your duty and come up with a 21-st century version!]

 

Today Boston needs love. Here are a few reasons to feel good about Beantown. In addition, 29 more reasons can be found at Buzzfeed.

THE WICKED GOOD GUIDE TO BOSTON ENGLISH

             Everybody knows about pahking cahs in Hahvuhd Yahd, but there’s more to the accent than that. In Boston English, “ah” (the one without an R after it) often becomes something closer to “aw”, so that, for example, “tonic” (see below), comes out more like “tawnic” (former Mayor Kevin White would often express outrage by exclaiming “Motha a’Gawd!”). And it’s not just after the A’s that the R’s go away. They disappear after other vowels as well, particularly “ee” sounds, so that one could properly argue that “Reveah is wicked wee‑id” (translation: “Revere is unusual”). But don’t worry about poor lost New England R’s. In typical Yankee fashion, we re‑use ’em ‑‑ by sticking them on the ends of certain other words ending with “uh” sounds: “Ah final ahs just disappeah, but wheah they go we’ve no idear.”

The quickest way to convince a native that you’re just a tourist is to refer to “the PublicGardens” (even if you pronounce it “Public Gahdens”) or “the Boston Commons.” Both are singular (ie., “PublicGarden” and “Boston Common”). Other tips: Tremont is pronounced “Treh‑mont” and it’s COPley, not COPEly, Square (or Squayuh). The pronunciation of many other Massachusetts locations bears little resemblance to their spelling; to avoid the feeling that the natives are snickering at you behind your back, take The Massachusetts Quiz. And now onto the vocabulary…

Barrel

What you deposit trash in.

Bobos

Boat shoes, i.e., Keds.

Breakdown Lane

Highway shoulder. Also, an oxymoron ‑‑ the last place you want to break down in greater Boston is in the breakdown lane, especially during rush hour, when it becomes the high‑speed lane (in some places, even legally).

Bubbler

That’s a water cooler to you, bub.

Candlepins

Boston bowling; involves tiny little pins and tiny little wooden balls (the pins are so hard to hit, you get three tries a frame). Watch “Candlepins for Cash” every Saturday morning, always hosted by some retired/fired sportscaster, like Don Gillis or Bob Gamere.

Carriage

What you use to wheel your groceries around at the Stah Mahket.

Cleanser

Where you bring your clothes to be dry cleaned.

Dot Ave

Dorchester Avenue.

Down

Where somebody is, for example: “They’re down the Cape today.”

Elastic

Rubber band.

Frappe

A milkshake or malted elsewhere, it’s basically ice cream, milk and chocolate syrup blended together. The ‘e’ is silent.

Get on the state

Land a job with the MBTA, MWRA or some other state agency.

Hoodsie

A small cup of ice cream, the kind that comes with a flat wooden spoon.  Sometimes used to refer to certain teen‑aged girls.

Jimmies

Those little chocolate or multi‑colored thingees you ask the guy at the ice‑cream store to put on top of your cone.

Mehfuh

A city next to Sommaville.

Packie

Where you buy liquor (closed on Sundays).

The Pike

The Massachusetts Turnpike. Also, the world’s longest parking lot, at least out by Sturbridge on the day before Thanksgiving.

Plenty a chahm

What all houses for sale have, at least according to the brokers. Really old houses also tend to have “characta,” especially if the roof and floors need to be replaced.

Rat

Young resident of certain neighborhoods, for example: “Rozzie rat” and “Dot rat” (the former being a denizen of Roslindale, the latter of Dorchester). The Back Bay and Beacon Hill do not have rats, at least not of the human variety.

Rozzie

What the natives call Roslindale, Boston’s premier neighborhood. Not to be confused with Southie, Eastie or Westie.

Rotary

A traffic circle. One of Massachusetts’ two main contributions to the art of traffic regulation (the other being the red‑and‑yellow pedestrian‑crossing light).

Saddee

The day after Friday.

Scoop

To kiss: “Guess who I scooped on last night?!?”

Scrod

A small, ambiguous piece of fish that never knows if it’s cod or haddock.[1]

So don’t I

An example of the Massachusetts negative positive. Used like this: “I just love the food at Kelly’s.” “Oh, so don’t I!”

The show

The movies.

Spa

A luncheonette or ma‑and‑pop convenience store (e.g., the Palace Spa in Brighton) ‑‑ Store 24s are never spas.

Spuckie

Sometimes, spukie. What some Bostonians still call a sub or hero (there’s even a sub shop in Dorchester called Spukies ‘n Pizza). May be limited to Dorchester and Roxbury, although your scribe once heard it in West Roxbury. From spucadella, a type of Italian sandwich roll you can still buy at some of the bakeries in the North End and Somerville.

The T

The Boston subway system. Represents the triumph of fuzzy logic, or something, because it does not actually stand for any single word. Cambridge Seven Associates thought it up in the early 1960s when the state hired them to design graphics for the then new MBTA. Their goal was to come up with something as recognizable as a cross that also evoked the idea of transit, transportation, tunnel, etc.

Time

A party, usually of the political or retirement type: “We’re throwin’ a time for the Dap down at the Eagles. Count you in?”

Tonic

What other people call soda. In some Boston supermarkets, the signs will direct you to the “tonic” and “diet tonic” aisles.

Tookie

Somebody who goes out with a much younger person: “He’s such a tookie! He’s going out with a ten‑year old!!!” See also, “Hoodsie.”

Townie

Often, a resident of Charlestown. But townies also live in Reveah and Whiskey Point (“da Point”) in Brookline, so it’s also a state of mind, or perhaps hair.  You can often tell a townie by the way he or she adds the phrase “‘n shiz” to the end of many sentences, as in “Oh my gawd, like yestihday, right, he was totally down Nahant polishing his TA (Trans Am) ‘n shit.”

Triple decker

Boston’s contribution to architecture ‑‑ a narrow, three‑story house, in which each floor is a separate apartment.

Triple Eagle

Somebody who went to B.C.High School, B.C. and B.C.LawSchool. In some circles, more prestigious than a Hahvihd degree.

Westa Wuhstuh

Terra incognito; beyond the bounds of civilization.

Wicked

A general intensifier: “He’s wicked nuts!”

Wicked Pissa

An expression of high approval.

Wicked f*’ pissa!

Something that’s just absolutely too cool for words.

What’s doin’?

How are you?

Whole ‘notha

A complete replacement; “I got a whole ‘notha computa on my desk now.”

‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑‑

The author of this is originally from New Yawk, so he’s probably missed a word or two. Feel free to correct him on his Boston English, at adamg@world.std.com.  Thanks to all the folks who’ve added to the glossary, in particular Billy Yank and Kirsten Alexander.


[1]An out-of-town businessman grabbed a cab and on the way to his destination asked the cabbie, “Do you know where I can get scrod in this town?” The cabdriver responded, “Ya know, bub, I heah that question a lot. But I’ve nevah heahd anyone use the thahd pahson plupahfect subjunctive befoah…”

There are more of us than there are of them.

With regards to the horrific tragedy in Boston today, Patton Oswalt said:


220px-Patton_Oswalt_by_Gage_Skidmore

Boston. Fucking horrible.

I remember, when 9/11 went down, my reaction was, “Well, I’ve had it with humanity.”

But I was wrong. I don’t know what’s going to be revealed to be behind all of this mayhem. One human insect or a poisonous mass of broken sociopaths.

But here’s what I DO know. If it’s one person or a HUNDRED people, that number is not even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the population on this planet. You watch the videos of the carnage and there are people running TOWARDS the destruction to help out. (Thanks FAKE Gallery founder and owner Paul Kozlowski for pointing this out to me). This is a giant planet and we’re lucky to live on it but there are prices and penalties incurred for the daily miracle of existence. One of them is, every once in awhile, the wiring of a tiny sliver of the species gets snarled and they’re pointed towards darkness.

But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We’d have eaten ourselves alive long ago.

So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, “The good outnumber you, and we always will.”


My thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families and loved ones. So many lives will never be the same as the result of senseless madness; thank you, Mr. Oswalt, for uplifting and affirming words in this moment of terrible sadness.

The Old Wolf has spoken.

The Coolest Ride in Disneyland – 1961

saucer_ride_1961

 

I remember this ride well. Functioning much like the air-hockey games you see in movie theatres and arcades, the blue plastic floor would release air as the little saucers glided over it – they were steered  by shifting your weight. Unfortunately this ride only lasted about 5 years, probably due to the risk of injury or litigation. [Even in 1961, California had 29 attorneys per capita.]

The Old Wolf has spoken.

Hoot Hoot I Scream

Hoot-Hoot-Ice-Cream

 

Source: Unknown. Date: 1935

The Hoot Hoot Cafe was built in the shape of an owl. The head rotated; the eyes, made from Buick headlamps, blinked; the sign: Hoot hoot, I scream, used elements of a theater marquee. For over 50 years, Tillie Hattrup ran this L.A.-area refreshment spot designed and built by her husband, Roy in 1926-27. It was demolished in 1979.

According to information found at Southgate High 56:

The cafe was built at 1201 Valley Boulevard, Rosemead, CA and stayed there from around 1926-1928. The land was sold to a new owner, and the building relocated to 8404 Long Beach Boulevard, three blocks away. Information from the South Gate Directory, dated July 1st, 1945, shows the building at this address from 1928 – 1949. It relocated again in 1949 to 8711 Long Beach Boulevard, and remained there until its demolition in 1979.[1]

For what it’s worth, I loved this unusual aspect of America – many things of this nature still existed when I was a kid in the 50’s, and they were always great entertainment for motoring families. Another example is the Wigwam Motel in Arizona:

1617-2-wigwam-motel-lg

Dated and now somewhat politically incorrect, old motels like this were eye-catching and amusing.

The Old Wolf has spoken.


[1] Information regarding the two South Gate addresses was supplied courtesy of the South Gate Historical Museum.