"It Is a Sugar-coated Satan Sandwich": Confessions of a Word Prig

I have been thrilled a number of times since I first heard Rep. Emmanuel Cleaver state that the budget compromise was a "sugar-coated Satan sandwich." I love colorful colloquialisms, and I plan to work that juicy, unfamiliar saying into my comments in class as often as possible. After all, I've also been known to say that doing something remiss is the "moist kiss of Death." Certainly, I am a self-confessed word prig, a phrase coined by the great wordsmith, Dick Cavett. I delight in language and love both the purity and flexibility of English. I consider myself both a "lexophile" and a "verbivore," While I appreciate good grammar with the best of English teachers, I also rejoice in euphemisms, colloquialisms, and current slang.

In my classroom, I take pride in being articulate and clear. Sometimes, though, to my dismay, students tell me they don't understand me, and that I use words that are too big. In the past I've also had administrators ask me to translate what I've just said; thank goodness I have been blessed with administrators lately that are intelligent and intelligible. I tell my students to consider my class a "full immersion" one; just as in a foreign language, with constant usage, the listener will eventually come to understand my diction. In fact, one of my favorite lessons to teach is on word choice, levels of diction, and specificity (yes, that's a word). I try to make clear the difference between colloquial level of language, slang, and popular - that level at which college essays are written. I enjoy teaching about trite diction, deadwood, and cliches. While I may use colloquialisms in class, I would not in a formal essay. But, I will in this blog!  I also delight in current slang, and take a perverse pride in knowing the proper spelling of "thug lyf" (sometimes "lyfe") much to my daughter Alexa's chagrin. I love the nuances of  language.

I also love the development of language. Spending time with my baby grandsons has reaffirmed how important beginning language is for communication. That's why it's so wonderful that babies are learning simple sign language for concepts such as "more" and "down" and "thank you." Max is articulate at those words, and also at "Mama," "Dada," and - I think - "Nana." When Max goes to sleep at night, it is to a cd of music; I adore hearing him sing along in short, consonant-driven syllables that mean something only to him. Luke at two months is limited to cooing, but that's as powerful a language as one could ever hope.

I wonder if you can determine a baby's character from his or her first words? Alexa's first words were not until she was 18 months old. That plus the fact that she was not yet walking at 18 months did cause us concern. But her first word came shortly after the CAT scan, when she also started walking. Her first word was "duck" which says a great deal about Bill's covert hobbies when we were living in the town of Liberty. After "duck" came an entire language unique to Alexa: her blanket was "babadi," Sesame Street was "dagadi" and she called herself "Ayucca." Natalie's first word was "no." That also says a great deal about our second-born, as well as the fact that a barrage of language soon followed.

Remembering that rhetoric is the art and study of language's persuasive power, I advocate both the music of well-chosen and well-crafted language as well as its levels of meaning. I build my lexicon by following writers such as Susan Orleans on Twitter. I supplant my slang by following Andy Borowitz. I also subscribe to various word-of-the-day sites. I look forward to new words and phrases in our evolving tongue. I abhor jingoism, but am interested in jargon. I anticipate with eagerness and joy what the new week will bring in the colorful world of language:
Words that Shaped Last Week