Making New Year's resolutions may have been an annual tradition in my younger days, but I don't recall a single sea change brought about by a resolve launched Jan. 1, and at some point, I must have realized that my determination to do, change or improve something is unrelated to the hanging of a new calendar.
But this New Year's Day has a special allure. It's not just the No. 1 day of the No. 1 month -- it's the Queen of Ones -- today is 1/1/11. If ever a date called out for resolutions and new beginnings, it would have to be 1/1/11.
That said, it was not immediately apparent to me what resolution I might want to make.
I know that the top New Year's resolutions include overcoming drinking, smoking, overeating and inactivity; managing money and stress; bettering education and career; and making time to travel and volunteer. Well, half these things aren't really applicable to me, and the other half are more applicable than I care to say, but none evokes much of an enthusiastic response on my part.
What finally occurred to me is that what I don't like about most traditional New Year's resolutions is their inherent seriousness.
It's only seven days past Christmas, for crying out loud. Can't we leave the gravity, introspection and self-loathing for some other time of the year?
That's when I decided to make a New Year's resolution that taps into the best of me, not the worst of me. And for me, that means tapping into my word-nerdiness.
It's hardly a secret that I love words, but even so, I rarely color outside the lines when it comes to conventional vocabulary. What that means is that among the words that intrigue me most, there is a stash of particular favorites that I make no effort to use, either in speech or writing. So, for 2011, I have resolved to choose 12 of these words and dedicate a month to each one. Once a week, at the very least, I'll speak or write the word, in a proper context.
Beginning today, January's word is digitabulist, which means "a person who collects thimbles" (I wonder how many digitabulists actually know that's what they are). In February, I'll ramp up my use of ensorcell ("enchant or fascinate"), derived from an Old French word for "sorcerer." March will find me referring to fricative consonants (such as f and th), which are uttered by the friction of breath in a narrow opening, producing a turbulent air flow, and in April expect to hear about gaberlunzies, a rather odd term (of unknown origin) for "strolling beggars."
Not quite as lovely as the month of May will be haruspex, a religious official in ancient Rome who interpreted omens by inspecting the entrails of sacrificial animals. Eww. If the balminess of June is late in arriving, I'll be longanimous -- that is, "long-suffering; patient." In July, I'll note that noisome should be used often, by everyone, to reinforce the understanding that it does not describe the sound of fireworks, but rather the smell of midsummer garbage.
Meaning "leading to salvation," my choice for August, salvific, is almost impossible to say without making the f sound like a v. September's word will be scop, known in Old England as "a poet or minstrel." The trees of October will arouse my interest in treen, a marvelous term for "articles made of wood, especially antiques," and although I love November, its word will be ugsome, a brilliant Scottish expression for "horrible; horrid; loathsome."
My 2011 resolution will conclude with December's Usonian ("relating to the United States" or "an inhabitant of the United States"). I think it would be great to have a national designation more specific than "American" (which technically could refer to anyone in North, Central or South America). Maybe my 2012 resolution will be to make the official adoption of Usonian my mission ... nah, one New Year's resolution per century is plenty for me.
Edmeston resident Christine A. Lindberg, senior U.S. lexicographer for Oxford University Press, is the principal content editor of Oxford's American English dictionaries and thesauruses. Opinions expressed by Lindberg in this column are done so independently, and do not necessarily reflect the policies and practices of Oxford University Press. Have a question or comment relating to the English language? E-mail: languagewithlindberg@gmail.com. Selected submissions will be answered here periodically.
Let's Look At The Language
My New Year's resolution? A resolution of words
- Let's Look At The Language
-
-
'We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne'
By Christine A. Lindberg A song that "owns" a particular day of the year is rare.
-
Here comes Santa Claus ... where'd he get that snazzy red suit?
Years ago, I had a book of letters written to Santa Claus, and I remember that, among all the messages of "bring me this," "bring me that," and "I'll leave you a plate of cookies," one little boy had written, "Dear Santa, Where did you get your snazzy red suit?" I wouldn't be surprised if the author of that question grew up to be either a reporter or a fashion consultant, but in any event, I hope he got an answer to his question.
-
Where do I plug in these Electric Prunes?
Those of us who make the family feasts of Thanksgiving and Christmas magically appear on the table know there's nothing magic about it.
-
The sometimes-cryptic language of company names
Cream cheese originated in 1872 as the result of William Lawrence's failure to duplicate the French cheese Neufchatel. By 1880, he knew his "accidental cheese" was good enough for distribution, so he packaged it in foil wrappers and called it Philadelphia Cream Cheese.
-
Humorist Will Rogers: One of the crown jewels in American language
Defined as "a humorous writer, performer or artist," a humorist could technically be anyone who makes you laugh, but my concept of a humorist is not nearly so broad
-
Not quite an 'Ode to Pepé Le Pew' after gross, stinky encounter
My previous column ended with the words "sweet dreams," which are nice if you can get 'em, but sometimes the occasion of slumber time is a few degrees short of sweet.
-
What will my dream-doctor say about this orgledream in my head?
I just read a snippet of folklore that tells me "a dream of grasshoppers means that something is confusing you."
-
Names of hurricanes don't match reality
When the storm named Irene barreled up into Edmeston four weeks ago, I didn't think I'd still be looking down upon the vestiges of her destruction from my upstairs windows.
-
Sometimes an unremarkable day is the one we should cherish the most
Ten years ago today, it was a summery Sept. 10 here in Central New York. The temperature hovered in the 80s and there was an occasional drizzle here and there.
-
'Don't miss it, don't even be late' The Great New York State Fair is here
"Our state fair is a great state fair! Don't miss it, don't even be late. It's dollars to doughnuts that our state fair is the best state fair in our state!"
-
Some of it's all Greek to me, but mostly it's just herbaceously aromatic
For the past five years, I've been a container gardener (having given up the backyard to my dogs).
-
Like gods on the heptagram, so are the days of our week
-
'Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?' just not the same
When the Baltimore Orioles' third baseman took the field on May 30, 1982, not even Nostradamus could have foreseen that one of the most celebrated streaks in baseball was beginning at that very moment. The player was Cal Ripken Jr., whose 2,131st consecutive game on Sept. 6, 1995, surpassed Lou Gehrig's "unsurpassable" record.
-
A frabjous Fourth of July to everyone!
If there's one date in history that every American can cite, it's the day that the Continental Congress gave its nod to the Declaration of Independence: July 4, 1776.
-
I wonder if ancient Romans ever put sanctions on that two-faced Janus
Someone recently asked me if I could explain the meaning of the word "sanction.
-
June is bustin' out all over!
When "Carousel," the second stage musical by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, opened on Broadway on April 19, 1945, the audience left the theater in buoyant spirits.
-
Go ahead and have a rat on a stick, but please don't call it a lollipop
I recent read that this Tuesday is National Escargot Day. I was unable to find any compelling evidence that this is an official national day for any nation in particular, but it does seem that throughout the U.K. and North America, French restaurants have happily adopted the day as a time to celebrate their garlicky little mollusks.
-
Onomatopoeic power of wheatgrass souffle
“The formation of a word from a sound associated with what is named” is the New Oxford American Dictionary’s definition of “onomatopoeia” (Ah-Nuh-mah-tuh-PEE-uh).
-
The language of Benjamin Franklin, in whatever name he used
When Benjamin Franklin died 221 years ago this month, the entire Western world mourned, yet his gravestone reads (in full), “Benjamin and Deborah Franklin 1790.”
-
There's nothing like a good spoonerism to tickle a bunny phone
The English economist Sir Roy Forbes Harrod (1900"1978) once said that, compared to all the scholars he had known at Oxford and Cambridge, the Reverend William Archibald Spooner (1844"1930) was the most exceptional in "scholarship, devotion to duty, and wisdom." There is no reason to question Harrod's assessment, but that's not exactly the imprint by which Spooner is best remembered.
-
'We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne'
