Temp-er, Temp-er, Temp-er!

Okay, I realize I’ve offered spelling advice that says, “Look to the root word when seeking better spelling.” But I have also suggested that you can ignore some advice that was absorbed as “rule”. And temp is one of them. This scruffy little root word has a variety of meanings. My dictionary (American Heritage, 4th Edition) lists more than two dozen words beginning with “t-e-m-p…” and a variety of meanings running from temper to temporary.

The etymology of this root is fascinating, but I won’t bore you with it. Know that t-e-m-p has been mished and mashed and put through a wringer over the centuries in order to produce quite a variety of uses in U.S.-English.

Most of the temp words refer to a root meaning of “time” or “mix” or “mingle”. Go figure! Here are a few of the differences:

A plain old temp can be that outsider who comes into your office “temporarily” to work on the books in your department.

A temper is “the tantrum” you throw when you weren’t asked to help.

That was when you were asked to temper your temper, “to moderate” it.

Temperament or temperamentally is “the way you handle” that temper.

Temperance goes further and asks you to knock it off completely, to “restrain” yourself.

When the office temperature rises, sometimes tempers also “get hot”.

Not wanting a tempest of “violent behavior of tornado proportions” to upset the office, your HR psychologist would likely suggest you temper your temper and avoid a tempest in a teapot with a well-tempered clavichord, with “tempered” music!

Remaining on an artsy level, tempera is a “mingling” of colors.

The temple in the Temple of Doom, on the other hand, draws meaning from sacred ground that was “divided” or “separated” (ironically meaning un-mixed) from ordinary ground. And from that, surprisingly, comes the meaning for the temple on either side of your eyes, originating from a Greek word meaning “vital spot”, as indicated by the Greek Vale of Tempe located between two important Greek mountains. (Classical Latin refers to that forehead area as the “temporal bone” or “temporal muscle”, protecting the precious vital eyes.)

No, I won’t miss some other t-e-m-p’s: as in Shirley Temple, Tempe AZ, or tempeh, an Indonesian dish made from fermented soybeans. Wonder where these t-e-m-p’s came from…

Ain’t language fun!

Celebrate Our Day!

Today, Tuesday, March 4, is National Grammar Day. How do you celebrate? Take a grammar to lunch? Buy your grammar a dozen roses? Or just watch your mouth. Not easy in this day of purple prose — f-words and s-words and xyz-words. Take a hint from our classy forebears whose words remain on our lips for decades — nay centuries — long after the speakers are gone. They chose words that cut, struck chords, made points, all without reverting to the profanity of the day (or was it the profanity of the day?).

Notice where profane words originate? In the bathroom (considered childish obsession with the digestive system), in the bedroom (sexual activity has long bothered Americans), in humor (making fun of others), and in ways to diminish the character of another.

Where our grandparents got by using such expletives as gosh darn, drat, egad, yikes, gee, and golly, their grandchildren easily display potty mouths — most likely for shock value to adults, but more for the easy of finding a pet cuss word and using it as often as possible. The cure? Find a pet cuss word that only you define as “profanity”.

U.S.-English is rich with wonderful words that would send an enemy or opponent scurrying off to find a dictionary. Consider: scurrilous, blasphemous, file, coprophagous, cloacal, ribald, execrable, ominous, minacious, maledictory, damnatory, desiccative.

On this holiest of holy days, watch your language. 

1) Keep your dictionary tucked inside your iPod or your pocket.
2) Find a mobile copy of a thesaurus.
3) Delight in coming up with dissident, dissentient, dissipated, disassociated word that will blow away the need for bathroom or bedroom attempts at humor.

When you stare your opponent in the eye, smile, and describe that person in extraordinary words, you'll feel so much better.

Be a proud grammar user.

 

Speak, spoke, spoken / Prove, proved, proven. . .

What’s are the differences between the verbs speak, spoke and spoken? Prove, proved, and proven? A whole mountain of difference. And why doesn’t spoke have a spoked?

Prove is the present tense and proved is the past tense of the verb “to prove”. Proven is the participle.

She proves she caught the biggest fish.
However, she proved it too late.
Now she has proven she was right.

Speak is the present tense and spoke is the past tense of the verb “to speak”. Spoken is the participle.

He speaks too loudly after a beer.
She spoke too wildly when she scolded him yesterday.
The two have not spoken since.

The “en” words are participles, which require auxiliary (or helping) verbs.

The world has proved it is warming.
The geologists have spoken.

Now, try to figure out what the heck a participle is! And where can you find one? Perhaps you could get the real skinny in my book, The Anarchist's Guide to Grammar. Or did you know there is a book? I can prove it. Go to Amazon.com and place your order. The author has spoken!

There’s No Business Like Grammar Business (tra-la!)

My friend Gina Wilhelm, star theater performer, puppeteer, and actor, reflects my view of grammar with the following:

I realize this is a fool’s errand, given how many people can’t keep “to”, “too”, and “two” straight, let alone “your” and “you’re”, to say nothing of “who’s” and “whose”… but “premier” and “premiere” are NOT the same thing. And when dealing with the performing arts, lemme just say that about 95% of the time, the proper one has an “e” at the end. 

Consider: an actor’s premier performance during the show’s premiere! Oh yes, one other thing, a “premier danseur” is the term often used to refer to the principle male dancer in a ballet. But now we’re back to the French, without whom we probably wouldn’t even have “ballet”… or grammar consternation!

Who says you can’t make up words?

You know I love the comics and their freedom with words. Recently, “Get Fuzzy”, written and drawn by Darby Conley, threw in some original words. Bucky Katt came up with ruddite, meaning “a rude luddite”. Then added dimpid (dim and stupid), and ugloying (ugly and annoying), before Rob asked, “Are you smelliotic then?” Figure it out! Then go on and make up your own new words. That’s the US-language way!