Monday, June 15, 2009
Words the NYTimes uses that nobody else does. Just for fun I decided to see whether I use any of these.
I used "sui generis" in reference to a blog that bears that name. (It's a good blog-- I used to have it on my sidebar, and I'll put it back next time I'm revising it.) Anyway, I know what sui generis means.
Oddly, "solipsistic" doesn't show up. I must use "begs the question" instead. "Louche" is another one I don't use. I'm not sure I know what it actually means, and I'll bet Maureen Dowd probably doesn't either. I use "laconic" less than I'd have thought. I doubt that comes as a surprise to anyone who knows me. Hard to believe that I never described Dick Cheney as "saturnine"-- I guess that will have to go on my To Do list. I know what "antediluvian" means, and I can even pronounce it, but I don't use it. "Epistemological" shows up, although "shibboleths" does not. I had to look "penury" up. I was pretty sure about "sumptuary", but I looked it up too. "Schadenfreude" I use all the time. I know I've used "peripatetic", because a secretary once asked me what it meant. I haven't used it here, and I'm not sure why. You'd think I'd use "abstruse", too, but I don't. "Parlous" is just showing off. Is it a long "a" or a short one? If I can't pronounce it, I'm not going to use it, and I've never heard anyone say "parlous" aloud. "Enervating" and "adenoidal" are absent, but not "feckless". "Solipsism" is cheating. Put the adjective on the list, or put the noun on the list. No wonder nobody uses "begs the question" correctly.
I'm not surprised that "ersatz" is absent, but it's a word I like. I used "fealty" in this post about the Steve Forbert Game. I use "sanguine" in conversation all the time. I don't know why it doesn't get used on Outside Counsel. I'm going up to 22 just to mention that "sartorial" is no stranger.
I used "sui generis" in reference to a blog that bears that name. (It's a good blog-- I used to have it on my sidebar, and I'll put it back next time I'm revising it.) Anyway, I know what sui generis means.
Oddly, "solipsistic" doesn't show up. I must use "begs the question" instead. "Louche" is another one I don't use. I'm not sure I know what it actually means, and I'll bet Maureen Dowd probably doesn't either. I use "laconic" less than I'd have thought. I doubt that comes as a surprise to anyone who knows me. Hard to believe that I never described Dick Cheney as "saturnine"-- I guess that will have to go on my To Do list. I know what "antediluvian" means, and I can even pronounce it, but I don't use it. "Epistemological" shows up, although "shibboleths" does not. I had to look "penury" up. I was pretty sure about "sumptuary", but I looked it up too. "Schadenfreude" I use all the time. I know I've used "peripatetic", because a secretary once asked me what it meant. I haven't used it here, and I'm not sure why. You'd think I'd use "abstruse", too, but I don't. "Parlous" is just showing off. Is it a long "a" or a short one? If I can't pronounce it, I'm not going to use it, and I've never heard anyone say "parlous" aloud. "Enervating" and "adenoidal" are absent, but not "feckless". "Solipsism" is cheating. Put the adjective on the list, or put the noun on the list. No wonder nobody uses "begs the question" correctly.
I'm not surprised that "ersatz" is absent, but it's a word I like. I used "fealty" in this post about the Steve Forbert Game. I use "sanguine" in conversation all the time. I don't know why it doesn't get used on Outside Counsel. I'm going up to 22 just to mention that "sartorial" is no stranger.
Friday, October 31, 2003
Speaking of matters sartorial, EGA writes:
"I arrived at college with only the socks on my feet- at least, in terms of socks. I did have some other sundries, but as far as socks, nothing. For the first few days I shared this information with practically everyone I met; why, I have no idea. Perhaps I was trying to establish some sort of absent-minded personna. As far as forgetting things, I could have done worse: it was no big deal to wander around campus sockless for a week or two, but think how awkward it would have been to have forgotten, say, underpants. Of course, I eventually bought socks (once I had figured out the cheapest possible sock vendor in Northampton), but what really bugged me were the socks I'd forgotten. My family is not big on personal property, and the clearest evidence of this is the Communal Sock System. Our unofficial sock policy is, "from each according to her ability, to each according to her needs." Although my sisters and I often receive novelty socks for Christmas, we rarely remember which socks are whose. Everybody pretty much wears all the socks. This means that nobody is ever wearing socks that fit. I'm fond of the Communal Sock System, but I had a better idea. I was going to begin my adult life with seven identical pairs of white socks. That way, I'd never have to sort socks, I'd never have to worry about losing a sock: it would be great. Seven identical pairs of socks were purchased. They got as far as the front door. And they were never seen again.
"Today I am doing laundry. On my bed are at least six different colors of socks. I'm sorting them. At least one is missing its mate.
"It was such a good idea in theory."
"I arrived at college with only the socks on my feet- at least, in terms of socks. I did have some other sundries, but as far as socks, nothing. For the first few days I shared this information with practically everyone I met; why, I have no idea. Perhaps I was trying to establish some sort of absent-minded personna. As far as forgetting things, I could have done worse: it was no big deal to wander around campus sockless for a week or two, but think how awkward it would have been to have forgotten, say, underpants. Of course, I eventually bought socks (once I had figured out the cheapest possible sock vendor in Northampton), but what really bugged me were the socks I'd forgotten. My family is not big on personal property, and the clearest evidence of this is the Communal Sock System. Our unofficial sock policy is, "from each according to her ability, to each according to her needs." Although my sisters and I often receive novelty socks for Christmas, we rarely remember which socks are whose. Everybody pretty much wears all the socks. This means that nobody is ever wearing socks that fit. I'm fond of the Communal Sock System, but I had a better idea. I was going to begin my adult life with seven identical pairs of white socks. That way, I'd never have to sort socks, I'd never have to worry about losing a sock: it would be great. Seven identical pairs of socks were purchased. They got as far as the front door. And they were never seen again.
"Today I am doing laundry. On my bed are at least six different colors of socks. I'm sorting them. At least one is missing its mate.
"It was such a good idea in theory."
Thursday, October 30, 2003
My signature look, if you will, has always been a bow tie. There are those who do not care for this look, but it has served me well over the years, and I am fond of it. I became a bow tie guy for several reasons. I knew how to tie one, for one thing. I was, early in my career, often involved in multiple party trials, and during jury selection I could use this bit of sartorial eccentricity as a means of distinguishing myself from the other white males at counsel table. If I am being honest, I will admit that like most bow tie guys, I wanted to look professorial. I suppose there were other motivations, initially, but one advantage I soon discovered is that you don't spill stuff on your bow tie. When you blob a regular tie, it is over. If you are a pirate, I suppose, your $60 foulard can be recycled as a head scarf, but I am not a pirate, and ruining nice ties got me down.
I am told by friends, people I trust, that the professorial look, and, let's face it, my professorial demeanor, can be off-putting at times, so I have been mixing it up a bit lately. Last night we were at a Niagara County Bar Association dinner honoring the justices of the Appellate Division, Fourth Department and I broke out one of my favorite foulards for the occasion. Parties like that are intended to be sucking up to judges events, and things had gone fawningly all evening. Since I was not wearing a bow tie, no one was intimidated by my gigantic intellect, and all was conviviality and red wine. Before spooning into my desert, in an abundance of caution, I flipped my tie over my shoulder. Just then one of the judges we were there to schmooze came over and joined our table. As he was sitting down, he noted the jaunty look I was affecting and said, "What's with this?" He flipped my tie back and neatly deposited it in my ice cream. Well, there was mortification and embarasment all around, let me tell you, and before I knew what had happened I found that I was now wearing the judge's tie, because he insisted on trading. It was a big scene, and I'm wearing a bow tie next time. I'll save the judge's tie for when I am appearing in front of him.
I am told by friends, people I trust, that the professorial look, and, let's face it, my professorial demeanor, can be off-putting at times, so I have been mixing it up a bit lately. Last night we were at a Niagara County Bar Association dinner honoring the justices of the Appellate Division, Fourth Department and I broke out one of my favorite foulards for the occasion. Parties like that are intended to be sucking up to judges events, and things had gone fawningly all evening. Since I was not wearing a bow tie, no one was intimidated by my gigantic intellect, and all was conviviality and red wine. Before spooning into my desert, in an abundance of caution, I flipped my tie over my shoulder. Just then one of the judges we were there to schmooze came over and joined our table. As he was sitting down, he noted the jaunty look I was affecting and said, "What's with this?" He flipped my tie back and neatly deposited it in my ice cream. Well, there was mortification and embarasment all around, let me tell you, and before I knew what had happened I found that I was now wearing the judge's tie, because he insisted on trading. It was a big scene, and I'm wearing a bow tie next time. I'll save the judge's tie for when I am appearing in front of him.
