Easy to say … but is it nice to say? Maybe. Easy to do? No. But what if you only have something nice to say? Maybe the advice should be the same …
The word ‘nice’ has a poor reputation in our household. It got off to a rocky start when I was an undergrad and high [no need to go on about it, ed.] school student, and my father would proofread my essays. He had a correct hatred of weak words, ‘nice’ and ‘good’ being near the top of the list, so banal as to appear meaningless. And then its reputation hit rock bottom about a decade ago.
A friend of ours gave a speech at her own wedding, back in the day when brides seemed to feel a need to do such a thing, and she went on for quite some time about her hunt for a single word to sum up the man she was about to marry. My already hubby and I looked at each other thinking of adjectives like ‘incredible’, ‘marvellous’, or small phrases, like ‘complete stud-muffin’. But no, the word she finally came up with was ‘nice’. Hubby and I then looked at each other thinking of phrases like ‘incipient disaster’. And so it was to be.
My mother-in-law, on the other hand, when asked why [on earth, but we love him, ed.] she chose to marry my husband’s father, when there were other excellent offers on the table, replied that she figured she would never be bored. Having failed to consider the Chinese axiom, ‘Be Careful What You Wish For’, or the Chinese curse, ‘May You Live in Interesting Times’, she chose something more challenging than nice, and I am forever thankful for it.
But I am wandering [what else is new, ed.?] and perhaps revealing too much of my own home life [what else is also new, ed.?] from my list of banal words. But maybe it isn’t their fault. Just over use. I mean, ‘good’ is a fine and splendid word, especially when said nicely to a dog, particularly Mouse:
But even she is thinking:
And ‘good’ is a terrible word to use in a thesis sentence. “This was a good post, Xty,” might be a fine [if unlikely, ed.] statement, but it hardly grabs the readers’ interest when you write “this was a good book about a nice person”. Now if you were to write, “That was a great post, Xty,” you might be on to something [do I really need to bother, ed.?].
Now to get back to the insipid ‘nice’, it has been further destroyed by this once fine sentiment: “Have a nice day.” Not to dwell on the repellant open-ended, but somehow creepily suggestive, modern variation, “have a good one”, the former phrase always makes me bite back my father’s given response, “I have other plans.” An idiotic cashier once suggested that I have one of those pastoral ‘nice’ days, while an un-named middle child of mine, aged two, uncharacteristically leapt up and down in a shopping cart yelling “buy me something now,” having been turned into a demon, it appeared, by taking a bite of his first and last Joe Louie about an hour beforehand. I still remember the way he sort of jumped backward when the red goo hit his senses …
My grandfather perhaps is the one to have brought partial redemption to both of these challenged words though, as he applied them to Scotch. Not one for the added ‘quick’ drink of my neighbour, that apparently is meant to have no effect on one, it was apparent that a ‘good’ drink was one that appeared in his glass, and a ‘nice’ drink was exactly the same, only somehow not quite good enough to be labeled good.
So have a good one, and then perhaps a nice one … but strictly in the Grandpa Bertie sense, and may your day be deserving of much more meaningful adjectives.
Marty knows. His band is named “The Fabulous Superlatives”.
Just listen to the first song above, then skip down here:
Which leads to this:
Time for “The Grievous Angel” r.i.p. GP
Little girls are so precious- both my daughters are grown, but today is my granddaughter’s 2nd birthday. She can whip 200+ lbs (me) around w/ her little finger.
From Gram to Emmylou:
Another voice to listen to- she grew up 30 miles down the road from me. Their football team was the only one that could consistently beat us, but when I was a senior we beat them. That was a big deal, ya know.
Mahvelous post and w.o.t.d. Xty dahling, simply mahvelous!
Any post with a picture of Mouse, or any dog for that matter, gets an instant upgrade from “good” to “great”.
This was supposed to go with the above, but I screwed up. Oh well, back to just “good”.
And then I forgot to resize. grrrrr
more caffeine plzzz
Oh boy, don’t show these stats to the wise guy permabears.
Executive Summary: 25 wins, 0 losses, since 1995, better than the 1972 Miami Dolphins.
“The race is not always to the swift nor the battle to the strong, but that’s the way to bet.”― Damon Runyon, On Broadway
When SPY posts more than 30% YOY gains-what next?
first the Pope, now Bill Gross. see http://www.pimco.com/EN/Insights/Pages/Scrooge-McDucks.aspx
and
http://www.kuriositas.com/2013/10/the-red-menace-anti-communist.html
the Commies’ evil plan of world domination seems to be at hand.
have a nice day teabaggers, wingnuts, and any other hatebags i may have forgot.
🙂 🙂 🙂
Another crazy kitchen day. Wife is helping out and bringing lots of food to tonite’s birthday party. She needs more fridge space. I am forced, I tell you, forced, to eat up a lot of our tg-day leftovers.
This has been stuck in my head since I posted it the other day. Go ahead- I dare you.
Last one. Walk in beauty, my friends.
Ummm……… is there a way to do two pics?
Another turkey dinner today. Burp…
And I’m on deck to cook tomorrow for a birthday party. It might be baby back ribs for about a dozen people.
I better go do a few crunches or something. 🙄
Back again. I lied. Just killin’ time ’til the Badger game. Should have thought of this one yesterday. My beloved son, about 5, circa 1987.
And the car- I loved that old Olds w/ the Rocketfire 455 motor. Of course gas was half or less than now. Picked it up for a song, had it repainted and replaced the vinyl roof.
Kept it 5 or 6 years, then had a cash crunch and traded it to a mechanic for some work on my truck. Missed it so much that I bought it back from him, eventually tired of it and sold it back to that same mechanic.
my brothers and i shared this car in high school – it was gifted to us by our grandfather. it was gigantic, and had bench seats front and back, so it was great for double dates. we had a drive in theater 5 miles away. i think gasoline was still a buck something, and this car got over ten miles per gallon, so no problems there. the other thing i remember is that it was great for doing “doughnuts” in the snow.
this was suggested to me by you-tube. and i actually liked it.
I kind of like the close up of the eye – very focused, in two ways – not looking at the bacon … I am not looking at the bacon …
Hard to resist posting thousands of dog pictures … which of your pooches is that?
There is meant to be a plug-in that automatically resizes images, and it seems to work when I write a post, but not when we comment. That will be my next technical search.
Btw, ds, you could post two pictures in a row by replying to your own comment. I think it is set to three deep on threads, so you could do three in a row.
Back to dogs, my kids think it is a good idea, and hubby thinks I am nuts, but I am kind of looking for a second dog. A little dog, because it has to be able to fly (in an airplane) so under 22 lbs carry bag included, but it cannot bark like a little dog or be repellant.
Lovely tunes, and congratulations on the grand-daughter! I am looking forward to those days … but patiently.
I miss my first car too, a Datsun 510, red hatchback. Some nitwit drove into it when it was parked outside Ben’s parents’ house, driving a 66 mustang convertible – totalled my parents’ car and probably his too. He was, apparently, ‘driving the baby-sitter home’ – a phrase one couldn’t help but howl about later.
That is Bucker. He’ll be 12 in March. He’s “getting on”.
Should have said “and not be repellant like a little dog”, lol. Just kidding, letting my biases show. I can’t be too snarky, because there is a movement afoot that our next dog after these German Shorthairs, and into our elder years, may well be a Dachshund.
Ironically, my first car was a ’66 Mustang. Black, with red interior. 289 V8, three speed, went like a rocket, until I crashed it. Boo Hoo. I was a nitwit, but not your nitwit.
I have to get to the store now and buy a pile of ribs and then get them into the oven.
turn upside down to get your fat tails.
speaking of curves, and being ahead of it… Jesse tonight features John Raulston Saul discussing his book, Voltaire’s Bastards.
http://jessescrossroadscafe.blogspot.com/
i found this link over there too. it is about as fair a weighing as one will find, but will be discarded nonetheless by made up minds.
http://www.salon.com/2013/12/01/noam_chomsky_america_hates_its_poor_partner/
Xty, I’ve got a joke for Mouse
Some time when Mouse appears to be preoccupied… say “hey mouse, what did the 3 legged dog say when he walked into the saloon?”
–then when mouse looks at you like, “I don’t know, what?”
you answer.. “He said…I’m Looking for the man who shot my pa(w)!”
Dogs love that joke. So if she just looks at you strange, or acts like she doesn’t get it- She’s probably already heard it and is just playing the ‘dogs don’t speak english’ card.
let me know.