A barbaric YAWP across the Web

Random musings of a sometimes political, sometimes mundane mind.

Word of the Day: Cockalorum September 18, 2008

Filed under: My Crazy Mind — wheresroxy @ 8:00 am
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Now, how can you not giggle, just a bit, when, working on your first cup of coffee, you sit down to read email, and that is the subject line of the very first message in your inbox?

Yeah, I know. You can’t.

Usually, the Words of the Day are either things I already know, or they’re such bizarre and obscure words (many of which I already know) as to be completely useless to any semi-normal writer. Wait, that implies there are semi-normal writers. Hmmm… Nevermind. Scratch that! Ain’t no such critter.

Anyway, there sat this little gem: cockalorum.

For those of you who are wondering what, exactly, a cockalorum is, rest assured, it’s nothing dirty. Despite the potential for adolescent humor, it’s not some strange sex act, a rare and exotic disease of the penis, or a mythical talking phallus.

Nope, far more mundane than any of those. Are you ready? You want to know, I can tell. You’re waiting for this.

cockalorum \kah-kuh-LOR-um\ (noun) – 1 : A boastful and self-important person; 2 : boastful talk

“Now, did he survive, and succeed, he’d be puffed full of relief and joy, and breakfast would be a nigh-hysterically blissful explosion of high-cockalorum.” — Dewey Lambdin, ‘Havoc’s Sword’

From the obsolete Flemish word “kockeloeren,” meaning “to crow.” It dates back to 1715 when it was used to describe the Marquis of Huntly-son of the Duke of Gordon, a Celtic Highlander chief who was himself known as the “Cock of the North.” The image of a rooster (a.k.a. cock) strutting confidently across the barnyard has given us “crow” (“to brag”), “cock” (“a self-important person”), and “cocky” (“overconfident”).

OK, stop the giggles and titters. You’ve all heard terms like “cock of the walk” and heard a “cock and bull” story or two I’m sure. It’s just that our ah, modern sensibilities have come to associate the word “cock” not with a rooster or boastful person, but with a certain body part, about which many men are, in fact likely to boast. Hmmmm, I wonder if that…

ahem

Sorry, I digress.

So, extract your mind from the gutter, or sewer if it has slipped that far.

The part that I’m having fun with is this:

The idea of a Word of the Day is to expand the vocabulary, presumably, the useful vocabulary. However, I cannot, for the life of me, imagine working this charming little word into the vernacular.

“Yeah, ignore him. He’s just full of cockalorum after he took first place in that last match.”

“He’s a real cockalorum, alright. Thinks he’s all that.”

ummm… How about… no!

 

There’s a storm a brewin’ August 23, 2008

Filed under: Just Life, My Crazy Mind, Personal — wheresroxy @ 6:05 pm
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Well, there was one brewing…

Monsoon season in AZ has struck… and this little Native San Diegan was awe struck at some of the weather patterns…

The microburst

An Arizona Storm

An Arizona Storm

It was an interesting, beautiful and slightly scary thing… As right over the house was clear… But less than 200 yards away was pouring rain and high winds. The burst never hit the house – but friends and neighbors sustained damages.

In other news, I’ve been so busy with everything else, I’ve had little time to update my little blog… poor neglected baby!

Strange things are afoot in the land of the Gunchick! And since I know all too well who reads these pages on a regular basis, I’ll keep my ever-lovin’ trap shut on them for now!

Suffice to say – thar’s changes a-brewin’! An’ m’thinks they’re for the good.

Meanwhile life has gotten interesting… very, very interesting…

Next happy note: On Halloween weekend – I get to go deer hunting!!!! Yeah!!!! Weeeeheeee! I got drawn for primo country for any antlered deer. Ask me if I’m doing cartwheels? Oh yeah!

That’s it for this update… I’ve got several wonderful bloggy posts running around in my head… I just haven’t had the time to develop them into coherent thought… and my free time lately has been taken up with them thar changes.

Stay tuned for more!

 

Musical flashbacks brought to you by iPod… July 27, 2008

Filed under: Just Life, Life, My Crazy Mind, Personal — wheresroxy @ 6:57 pm
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I’m sort of on the fence when it comes to things digital. I’m a member of that generation who actually recall days before computers were everywhere. We remember the first “family” video games (Pong, anyone?) and the days when personal computers were large and incredibly expensive. We also recall when the “boombox” was the height of portable music – oh the batteries we went through – taking over from the transistor radio. At the same time, all of these cool new gadgets did come into existence during our formative years.

The technology evolution pretty much grew up right along with us. We remember when cassette tapes took over from vinyl, and when CDs took over from tapes. Most of us would have maimed, if not killed, to have an affordable way to transfer our beloved tape collection onto CD. Along the way, we learned to love all things tech, to embrace the changes and relish the new and improved. We are the generation who wasn’t born plugged in, but wanted to be. Contrast this with my own children, who are growing up in an age where computers were a given, when the Walkman was replaced with the iPod, when CDs were the norm and “digital” is the buzz word of the day. My 14 year old cannot recall not having a computer, and only vaguely recalls having a Walkman. Basically, what I’m saying is, I grew up seeing the writing on the wall, and now as an adult, I’m still deciding whether or not I like this brave new world we live in.

Now that I’ve gone off on some nostalgia tangent, I’ll get back to my point.

One tech development I lovingly embraced was the digital age of music. CDs were my new best friends when they first came out, and when the iPod came out in 2001, I wanted one – badly. It was years before I finally got a small MP3 player (tight finances and all). For the last couple of years, I’ve been begging and pleading for an iPod, one that had more space than I could possibly fill. On my birthday, I finally got my wish. I got my iPod Classic. Wheeee!

So the fun has begun. Getting all of my existing music lined up on iTunes and loaded onto my iPod, surfing around and searching for more music to buy, and otherwise having the fun of dumping hours upon hours worth of music onto my new toy. Oh, and creating playlists… And getting a very sore thumb from getting addicted to a certain silly game…

And like any kid with a new toy, I’ve been trying to figure out everything I can about it, looking at all the neat and cool things it can do, and finding excuses to use it for everything I can.

Did you know you could sync your calendar to your iPod? Yeah. I thought that was a pretty cool feature. Then I realized. I already sync my calendar to my phone. How many places do I really want or need my schedule synced to? Huh?

My main reasons for wanting the big iPod were that I was sick of having to swap out my music every week or so when I got sick of the couple hundred songs my little MP3 would hold and I wanted to be able to load pics and carry them with me as a digital album. That desire was born of losing all the pics in my cell phone when I upgraded and had forgotten to transfer my pics before transferring service. Whoops. So I’ve been going through all of my pics and deciding which ones will get uploaded to the iPod.

But mostly, I’ve been having a lot of fun dusting off old music memories and sticking those fun old songs into my new toy.

To understand my giddiness over this prospect, it has to be explained – for 13 years, I lived in a house where the only music played was either worship music, classical, or some country. The country was OK so long as it didn’t reference spousal problems, leaving or getting left, affairs and extramarital sex. Huh. Well, scratch about 75% of all country music then! I grew up with an incredibly varied musical background, listening to everything from classic country and oldies to rock and Motown. One neighbor referred to my mother as “That crazy redhead who plays the loud _(insert incredibly offensive and colorful term)_ music next door.” Sorry, I just can’t bring myself to type that word.

I grew up listening to Isaac Hayes and Barry White. I also grew up singing along with The Righteous Brothers, Conway Twitty (and if anyone ever tries to claim that old country wasn’t suggestive, I’ll slap ‘em upside the head with some of his lyrics!) and Roger Miller. Add in some Dr. Hook (I love Shel Silverstein, both in song and in print), Otis Redding, Genesis, Smoky Robinson, Cream, Aretha Franklin, Luther Vandross, Creedance, Elton John, Loggins & Messina and Three Dog Night and you’re getting an idea. The closest I came to “kiddie” music was Harry Belafonte, and I don’t mean the “Banana Boat Song.” The first song I learned to play on a musical instrument was “Lean on Me.”

But the 13 year period preceding 2006 was pretty much a musical graveyard. Put it this way, I recently had to write an article about Nickelback, and I had never heard of the group.

So, forgive my giddiness over digging up old favorites like Billy Idol, INXS, the Sex Pistols and other quintessential ’80s stuff.

Now pardon me while I go have some flashbacks or something!

 

39 and holding? July 15, 2008

Filed under: Humor, Life, My Crazy Mind — wheresroxy @ 4:33 pm
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OK, my birthday was this past week and I decided to have some fun and take one of those “virtual age” tests. Oh surprise, surprise! I’m “virtually” all of 18.5 years old! Wheeee – I’m just a kid!

Now, let’s get to reality… Last week, I turned 39, the beginning of my 40th year on this planet and my last year of being “under 40.” I did some surfing around and found a lot of “woe is me” posts about turning 39, a lot of “oh crap am I feeling old” garbage. Well guess what? This isn’t going to be another one of those posts! Nope!

You see, I don’t feel old, and I don’t feel like sitting around moping about being “almost 40.” Big fat hairy deal!

Actually, I feel younger now than I did a few years ago (hmmm, amazing what a happy home life does to you!) And I look better.

Besides, how can I feel sorry for myself when my coworkers were guessing this was my 30th birthday, not my 39th?

 

A scrapbook by any other name is still a scrapbook… February 7, 2008

Filed under: It's a gunchick thang..., My Crazy Mind, Personal — wheresroxy @ 9:14 am
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Job searching was so much easier when all I had to do was list my experience and skills and then trust those and my personality to get me through an interview. These days it’s a whole different ball of wax. (hm, I wonder why that little charmer isn’t in my Dictionary of Idioms.)

These days, I have potential employers somehow digging me up on the Web. Considering how many steps I go through to keep my real name isolated from my personal Internet presence (ie – this blog, and the other places where I write and participate), that was an act of spectacular sleuthing, and I am sorely tempted to call the gent up and ask, “Just how, exactly, did you find me?”

I also have potential employers asking for samples of my writing, and my (gulp) portfolio. “Oh, sure,” is my blithe reply. “I can do that.”

Let’s be honest here, I haven’t updated my portfolio in forever, and I’ve never really updated it with job hunting in mind. It is merely a simple, clean and very basic showcase of some of my favorite pieces. Sure, I’ve shopped it out a couple of times, successfully even, as a freelancer, but I’ve never really prepped it to be a display of everything I am as a writer, editor, photographer, etc.

I suppose some folks go through the process of making their portfolio into a work of art, scrapbooking in the professional sense. Me? I haven’t had the time to that, and to be honest, even if I had the time, I’m not sure I would.

I prefer to spend my creativity elsewhere. That and I have this basic love of clean, simple lines, uncluttered spaces and letting an object (or article) speak for itself. Yeah, yeah, I also battle the theater major tendency to believe if a little is good, then a lot is even better (it “reads” better to the audience after all). So, I can be guilty of, well… overdoing it.

So, here I sit, flipping through the pages of my professional scrapbook, whoops, I mean, “portfolio”, and wondering, “What does this say about me?” “Does this show who I really am?” “If I didn’t know me at all, and I looked through this, would I like what I saw?” “How can I make this better, crisper, a more effective showcase?”

Oh, and, “Somebody please remind me to go get some good-quality black paper, a decent paper cutter and more page inserts, please.”

And finally I think, “Oh no! I’m scrapbooking!”