Throwback Thursday — Slang

Maggie, at From Cave Walls, and Lauren, at LSS Attitude of Gratitude, alternate hosting Throwback Thursday. The idea of the prompt is for them to give us a topic and for us to write a post in which we share our own memories or experiences about the given topic. This week, Lauren wants to know about the popular slang of our formative years.

Here are Lauren’s questions.

1. What were the words you would have used to describe something cool or popular?

Cool, groovy, far out, bad, outta site, a gas, boss, unreal, cherry

2. How about those things that were uncool?

Uncool, bummer, downer, a drag, heavy

3. What were the hairstyles of the day?

For guys, crewcuts, flattops, Princeton (hair on the top front of the head is long enough to style with a side part, while the crown of the head is cut short), and the DA (for “duck’s ass” as shown below).

For girls, all I can think of was the beehive and the pixie.

4. Did they have a name everyone used to reference them?

Names above.

5. What were the styles of the time?

I was never one who kept up with the styles of the day, but when I was going through my hippie days, I wore bellbottom jeans, flowered shirts, tie dyed tees, big belts, Chuck Taylor All-Stars (sneakers), wide ties, sandals, polyester leisure suits.

6. What word would you have used to describe something distasteful?

See response to #2.

7. What about peers you were not fond of or were not part of your tribe?

Geek, nerd, fink, panty waste, skuzzball, square, pig

8. Any phrases you remember that were used (or overused)?

Up your nose with a rubber hose, lay it on me, sock it to me, right on, keep on truckin’, gimme some, don’t Bogart that joint, peace out

It’s Cool Inside

It’s 106° outside, but it’s once again cool inside our home thanks to this guy, Brian, my new best friend. He came out this morning to replace a blown capacitor in our A/C’s compressor.

I had to look up what a capacitor does. Turns out it provides the initial jolt of electricity your air conditioner’s motors need to run successfully. It stores electricity and sends it to your system’s motors in powerful bursts that get your unit revved up as it starts the cooling cycle. So, yeah, if the capacitor is shot, the A/C unit won’t start.

My new best friend did say that most capacitors last for around ten years, so it’s surprising that it would blow after only three years. I told him that the control board on our two year old whole house generator, which is also supposed to last at least ten years, failed after just two years.

After hearing that, my new best friend quickly finished installing the new capacitor and hurriedly left. I think he wanted to avoid getting contaminated by my back luck.

The Hitchiker

It had been a long day of driving when I saw someone standing by the side of the road with their arm extended and their thumb up. I usually don’t stop for hitchhikers because you just never know who you’d be inviting into your car. But as I got closer, I could see the hitchhiker was a girl, so I figured why not? She’s just a girl, how risky could it be? I decided to give it a go.

I slowed down and rolled to a stop just ahead of her. She was quite an attractive girl, maybe about 18 or 19. She pulled opened the car door, climbed in, and said, “Thanks for the lift.”

“No problem,” I said, smiling at her. “Where are you headed?” I asked as I pulled back out onto the road.

“Wherever you’re going,” she said. She didn’t look at me. Her eyes were looking ahead.

“I’m heading to Provo,” I said. “I teach at the university there.”

“Cool,” she said.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

Here and there,” she said. Then silence.

We drove for about 30 minutes without conversation. I looked at my watch and it was almost 6:00. “There’s a diner and a gas station about a mile ahead,” I said. “We can stop, I’ll fill up my tank, and we can grab some dinner. Sound good?”

“Cool,” she said.

We were back on the road at around 7:30. When I usually make this trip I stop at a motel at around 9:30 or 10 for the night. I asked her if she wanted to spend the night. I offered to get her a separate room.

“Cool,” she said.

I pulled into the motel parking lot and told her to stay in the car while I checked in and got the rooms. When I got back to the car I lied. I told her that there was only one room left and asked her if she’d mine sharing. “It has two double beds,” I added.

“Cool,” she said.

When we got to the room, I went to the bathroom to wash up. Then she used the bathroom while I changed into my pajamas. She came out wearing just a skimpy t-shirt and panties. I got into my bed and slipped under the covers. She walked over and stood next to my bed and stared down at me. I looked up at her and said, “Do you want to share my bed with me?”

“Cool,” she said.

She crawled into the bed and was all over me. It was the most fabulous night of my life. We were at it into the wee hours and I was satiated and exhausted when we finally went to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning I was alone. I got out of bed, looked around, but there was no sign of her. There was also no sign of my wallet, my watch, my wedding band, my overnight bag, and my car keys. I ran to the window, looked out, and saw that my car was gone. Shit!

I saw a piece of paper on the night table between the beds. Written on it was, “Thanks for the ride, thanks for the dinner, thanks for the sex.”

“Not cool,” I said.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Opposing Forces, where the words are stop and go and here and there.

Fandango’s Flashback Friday — May 27th

Wouldn’t you like to expose your newer readers to some of your earlier posts that they might never have seen? Or remind your long term followers of posts that they might not remember? Each Friday I will publish a post I wrote on this exact date in a previous year.

How about you? Why don’t you reach back into your own archives and highlight a post that you wrote on this very date in a previous year? You can repost your Friday Flashback post on your blog and pingback to this post. Or you can just write a comment below with a link to the post you selected.

If you’ve been blogging for less than a year, go ahead and choose a post that you previously published on this day (the 27th) of any month within the past year and link to that post in a comment.

This was originally posted on May 27, 2019.

Old School


I’m an old guy — as in senior citizen old. And I’m sometimes challenged to keep up with the latest and greatest language lingo and usage.

For example, when my daughter’s boyfriend told me that he was “down with” something I said, I became very defensive, thinking that I was being insulted. I later found out that it meant that he agreed with me or was “okay” with whatever it was that I said.

And when someone recently asked, “Do you feel me?” my response was, “Um, in this #MeToo era, do you really want me to?” I’m glad I asked first.

So these days, before I react to something I hear or read, I often look to the Urban Dictionary to help me understand what the hell people, particularly younger people — which, at my age is almost everyone — are talking about.

A few days ago, I heard someone use the phrase “off-the-hook.” The way I always understood the phrase “off-the-hook” is that it means being relieved from responsibility. For example, when Donald Trump heard that Attorney General Bill Barr’s summary of the Mueller Report found “no collusion and no obstruction” (it did not, in fact, find any such thing), Donald Trump felt like he was off the hook.

But it turns out that the person who used that expression meant it in an entirely different way. When he said it, his intended meaning for something being “off the hook” was that it was “fresh” and “new” and so in demand that the items in question are virtually flying off the hooks (or hangers or shelves) at stores.

Sure enough, when I went to the Urban Dictionary site, that was the second definition. The number one definition was “cool, happening,” as in “Bob’s party was totally off the hook!”

“Off the hook” also refers to something that exceeds a minimal standard of satisfaction or is appealing to one’s mind, as in “that song is off the hook!”

My definition for “off the hook” (to get away with something or to not be responsible for it) is what the Urban Dictionary calls the  “old school” definition.

So I’m “old school,” huh? Well, that’s okay. I don’t really mind being thought of as old school. I take it as a badge of honor. And, by the way, the Urban Dictionary defines “old school” as “anything that is from an earlier era or previous generation and is looked upon with high regard or respect.” Woo hoo!

Besides, it’s also one of my favorite Steely Dan songs. I mean that song is off the hook.