Say what?

By: Ellen Nelson

Published On: May 24, 2010

I love words. My whole family loves ‘em. Growing up, I recall how my dad would have a “word of the day” in his office. He would stand amongst his crew and read to them the definition of a word, like, say, conniption—as in a conniption fit (an angry or violent outburst).

Oddly enough, as much as we appreciate real words, our family, as most families, has its own lexicon. If you hear a member of the Nelson family say, “Chester!” as he or she rolls their eyes heavenwards with a look of horror and disgust, as if an incredibly odiferous aroma was wafting through the nostrils, then they are actually saying, “Gross!”

This particular refrain (I say refrain because we all seem to say this a lot) comes from the Latin—okay, no Latin here. Its origin is in the proper name Chester Grossberg, a friend (who was neither gross nor smelly) from my father’s childhood.

Here’s another one. Great Gunder Hagg—a popular saying that my sisters and I exclaim with vigor. Not familiar with this one? Understandable. Another Dad thing. He and pal Jake Wallace used to watch Gunder, a Swedish middle-distance runner who broke 15 world records in his career. While they enjoyed watching Gunder run, they were totally taken with the fellow commentator who covered the sport for network television who would shout, “Great Gunder Hagg” when the swift athlete bounded ahead of his competitors. So now, we Nelsons use this in lieu of “Wow,” or “Holy Cow” or the like.

What’s funny about this is, as I grew older, I learned that the rest of the world didn’t understand these words. That was fine. It made the expressions all the more special. Unfortunately, there were other expressions that I mistakenly assumed our family also developed. Here’s an example: tinkle. Just imagine how horrified I was as a seven year old to learn that this was not a secret Nelson word. (Sorry Mom—I know you’re cringing, but it’s true!)

Speaking of Mom, she has passed onto us, along with Dad, a love of foreign words. Before we gave her a good-night kiss and drifted off to sleep each night, she would say, “Bon soir, bon soir—schalfen gut und wenn sie das tun, soignez de moi, ce soir.” This means (I think) Good night, good night—sleep well, and when you do, dream of me this night. Even writing those words takes me back—I can still smell that Elizabeth Arden moisturizer she put on each night before our little ritual. I digress. Mom’s combo of French and German (and she speaks Italian) morphed perfectly with Dad’s ability to speak fluent Japanese and resulted in my having multilingual dogs. If I say ‘chotta mate,’ that’s Japanese for wait a minute, or ‘iki masho,’ meaning let’s go, they do exactly that. Well, sort of...They also speak French, a bit of German, Korean, Italian and, like their mother, know how to curse and say I love you in 13 languages. Handy.

My sister Carole and her family are always making up new words. In fact, they seem to rename their cat and/or their children on a daily basis. They even have a nickname for me (bestowed upon me after I spent a summer of weekends sleeping on their sofa and which I can’t share in good company). Frankly, I don’t know how that poor cat, Whiskers, Puss-puss, Poodle, Mouser, The Molenator (she’s quite crafty when it comes to stalking moles and chippies), whatever the hell her name is today, knows how to come when called. The family has also invented some excellent words for their cat’s behavior, like when she opens her mouth to meow and it turns into a yawn. That’s a meyawn.

And Emme, my other sis, likes big, fancy words, In fact, she often uses a word in her Tennessean column that most people have to look up each week. I think she does it to challenge the Edit Desk. Hey, if it keeps people learning and curious, more power to her!

All this talk of words has got me thinking. If our daily vernacular can include words like texting and IMing, I think that the regular folk, that’s you and me, should be able to have our words added to Webster’s without all the rules, the hoops through which they insist you jump to be included. At least we can add to Urban Dictionary. While not the most cerebral website, it just might be the most fun. And if that’s what it takes to get children and adults to read more, so be it. Word.