So, Merriam-Webster recently announced that they've included ginormous in the latest edition of their dictionary. Great. What's next, hugantic? Dupid? Stumb?

Obviously merging gigantic and enormous, ginormous adds nothing to the language. What's the purpose of a broadened vocabulary, anyway? Precision in communication. If you only have 50 words, you have a dull instrument. I don't have a problem with the idea of making neologisms "official" as long as they sharpen the instrument of language; if they add something to the palette by labeling a new object or concept, or describing an existing object or concept in a unique way.

Ginormous does neither. Who needs it when we already have gigantic and enormous, which are mutually exchangeable? So where are we headed? Will all our slang words eventually graduate to the official list? Probably. As the older, conservative officials in the dictionary business retire or take the Long Nap, the next generations of approvers will stare down their reading glasses at "words" like fugly, bugly, and frenemy. Except they won't have reading glasses because they'll have been lasiked.

They also decided to add "speed dating" to the approved list, but "speed dating" isn't a word, it's a phrase, and even as a phrase it has no business being recognized as a unit of speech. Not when we have speed, and dating. So what's next, Merriam-Webster? "fast car"? Here's one you can add to your list: WTF?

Labels: annoyed

The tree out front was dangerously unbalanced last year, so the town came and chopped her down. Good. This spring they came back to grind down the stump, and said they'd be back "within two weeks" to level the ground, plant a new tree, and put some top soil and seed down. They left us with a traffic cone and good intentions.

April went by. I left a polite message, essentially asking, "WTF?" Then May came and went. I left a slightly less polite message. Then, in the first week of June, two grounds crew trucks pulled up out front. "Finally," I said to myself. I went to the kitchen for a drink, and when I came back, the trucks were pulling away. They left the traffic cone, the now shin-high weeds, and this stick in the ground:

A fine young postmodern tree

Mind you, it took two trucks to accomplish this task. So I left another moderately peeved message. Two weeks and nothing but cricket sounds. In the third week in June I left a new message, this time of the "rip them a new one" variety. I got a call a few hours later. Copious apologies. But dubious reasons. They couldn't find the right tree. Their vendor kept delivering crappy trees. Their vendor wouldn't guarantee any trees at this time. They were now looking elsewhere for a guaranteed tree. All of these reasons were given.

After some further ripping, I got a guarantee of my own: A new tree, nice weedless new topsoil and grass seed no later than July 13th. The over/under bet on this is 5 days. Any takers?

Labels: annoyed, at home