Here’s my column from Sunday.

AldermAd Nauseam

Tuning into A.M. Springfield this week I became irritated with a guest. This person, an alderman, was answering questions about the city’s budget situation and the council’s recent actions. The problem wasn’t that his responses weren’t intelligent or substantive, but that he just went on and on. He wasn’t a fast-talker, per se, but he never paused to take a breath while giving his extended answers. It was exhausting to listen to.

Now I’m the last person who should give advice on public speaking, but one thing I can never be accused of is being long winded, except perhaps in my writing where I’ll sometimes run on a bit, taking off down tangents with only the barest thread of relevancy to my main thesis which then becomes lost in a torrent of words that overwhelm the reader and sends them in desperate search for a  period or question mark or exclamation point, anything that might signal an end to the onslaught and an opportunity to rest their eyes, yet their fear, and it is a genuine fear, is that such punctuation may never come and they’re left with, as their only consolation, the fact that at least there aren’t any footnotes which would force them to leave on yet another, even more extraneous tangent with the dreadful knowledge that the statement they are about to temporarily leave is still very much unresolved and the thought of returning is really just too much, much more than they can bear and their resolve having been tested so brutally they finally decide that, no, it just isn’t worth it to carry on any further because no matter what pot of gold might be waiting at the end of the statement it can’t possibly be worth the torture they’ve thus endured and that that awaits so they stop reading,  just like that, they stop¹.

Broken Music Life

If you would have told me that Robbie Fulks would play in  Springfield twice in the same month and that I’d miss both performances I would have thought you a no-good lying prognosticator. Yet I did, first by misunderstanding and then by a simple lack of motivation.  If I left the house more often perhaps I’d have more to blog about.

Break It Down Baby Now

The term “shotgun start” entered my consciousness years and years ago, but it wasn’t until this week that I was curious enough to find out what it meant in practice. Now that I know that it doesn’t involve actual shotguns I can continue to find golf a colossal waste of time and space.

Speaking of gun shots, a bit of discussion on semantics in the media:

When I read that someone was “shot to death,” it makes me think that the victim was shot repeatedly until dead. I suppose this connotation arises because of the term “stoned to death,” which most often involves a barrage, rather than a single strike, to achieve the desired effect.

If death was achieved through a single bullet, then the term “shot and killed” seems more descriptively accurate. The cause and effect in this statement seems more immediate and direct – a bang and then a galumph, no need to shoot again.

I have no grammatical rules or literary precedent to back up me up on any of this, and I certainly don’t protest their use in ways contrary to my preference, but since many readers of this blog have strong opinions on linguistic matters I thought I’d throw it open for discussion.

And now I leave you with one of my favorite songs, which most of you little language Nazis should be able to identify with. I’ve included the lyrics so you can follow along.

She was “underwhelmed”

If that’s a word

I know it’s not ‘Cause I looked it up

That’s one of those skills

That I learned in my school

I was overwhelmed

And I’m sure of that one

‘Cause I learned it

Back in grade school

When I was young

She said, "You is funny"

I said, "You are funny"

She said, "Thank you"

And I said, "Never mind"

She rolled her eyes

Her beautiful eyes

The point is not the grammar

It’s the feeling

That is certainly in my heart

But not in hers

But not in hers

But not in hers

But not in hers

But not in hers

We were talkin’ about people

That eat meat

I felt like an ass

‘Cause I was one

She said, "It’s okay,"

But I felt like I just ate my young

She is obviously a person

With a cause

I told her that I don’t

Smoke or drink

She told me to loosen up

On the way to the L.C.

She skips her classes

And gets good grades

I go to my courses

Rain or shine

She’s passin’ her classes

While I attend mine

While I attend mine

While I attend mine

While I attend

She wrote out a story

About her life

I think it included

Something about me

I’m not sure of that

But I’m sure of one thing

Her spelling’s atrocious

She told me to read

Between the lines

And tell her exactly

What I got out of it

I told her affection

Had two F’s

Especially when you’re dealing with me

I usually notice

All the little things

One time I was proud of it

She says it’s annoying

She cursed me up and down

And rolled her R’s

Her beautiful R’s

She says I’m caught up

In triviality

All I really wanna know is

What she thinks of me

I think my love for her

Makes me miss the point

I miss the point

I miss the point

I miss the point

I miss the point

I miss the point

I miss the point

I miss the point

Hey mister… 

¹Nevermind. I forgot what I was going to say.