Whensoever I’m asked “wheresoever did you attain that voluminous vocabulary you put on display every Friday,” I answer, “I dunno.” If whomsoever asks if it’s a natural gift, I answer, “uh, yeah” while hiding my thesaurus behind my back.
Whichsoever way you look at it, I don’t think it’s the size of one’s wordage that matters insomuch as the way the aforementioned wordage is utilized. (Nevertheless, I think my wordage has the wherewithal to stack up with whosoever wanted to put it to the test.)
My workaday world as a newspaperman is all about words. But that wasn’t always the case. Before entering this woebegone profession, I also served time as a highwayman and a backwoodsman (albeit in a roundabout way). Those professions (along with crossbowman and plainclothesman) didn’t need words whatsoever, as long as you could grunt, growl, burp and bark. Nonetheless, I loved words and needed to have some contact with them.
Now, before I go any further, some of you may remember that a month or two ago, I accepted a word challenge from a friend, a real whippoorwill of a guy we’ll call ol’ whatshisname. He’s kind of a ne’er-do-well, but notwithstanding, he’s a professor and a poet and he likes words. He also likes to throw challenges at me, and heretofore I’ve been trying to meet the latest one. Hereinafter, I don’t know what to expect because I seem to be running out of the types of words I’m supposed to be using.
Insomuch that I hate to lose, I’ll persevere and go whithersoever it takes me.
I think I first fell in love with words when I was a gradeschoolkid, and I discovered that spelling them correctly could win me holy cards. (I must have earned a full deck when all was saidanddone.)
So I minded my P’sandQ’s (and all the rest of the letters) and took a liking to English over the other stuff they tried to teach me. Now, I’m not saying it came easy. I had my upsanddowns, but byandlarge, I learned it through trialanderror.
After becoming a highschoolgraduate, I dabbled in college for a while, trying to “findmycalling,” but the only thing that called was “thepartyscene” and thatwasthat.
But the words never left. I dabbled in poetry and actually tried to be a songwritingman. But alasandalack, the rock’n’roll lifestyle didn’t work out and I had to getajob.
Years and jobs cameandwent, but through all the sweatandtears, I never lost my fondness for words. I wrote poetry, was a crossworddoer, and of course, I read as much as I could.
And then one day when I was feeling downandout, and through the urging of a goodheartedwoman, I decided to hitthebooks again and the restishistory. I learned, when all was saidanddone, that words are powerful tools that can be shapedandmolded to do just about whatever it is you want them to do.
Of course, not everyone will agree with the way you put them together. There are, after all, prosandcons to every story, not everything is as easy as blackandwhite, but you can go backandforth on that forever.
I think I’ll cutitshort now, and admit that this was much harder than I thought it would be. But I gave it the oldcollegetry and now I think I’ll let sleepingdogslie.
I know there might be a suggestion or two that I may have crossedtheline here and that any satisfaction I get from an inyourface to my friend will be illbegotten.
All I can say is, I would never stoopsolow because cheatersneverprosper. And if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s sportsmanship.