The Toad’s Words - Excursus #23

Well, folks, it has been nigh on ten years since I have posted an excursus of the Toad.  A lot of water and flotsam have gone under the bridge during that time and a lot of words have been caught in the weeds. I have been diligently writing them all down as they appeared and my notebooks have been acting a bit like Harry Potter’s The Monster Book of Monsters. However, as I sit to write #23, I find that my notebooks are all in my warehouse to keep them safe from any disaster that might occur at my house – fire, flood, forgetfulness. So needing a place to start, I checked the alphabetical index of the previous 109 words and I see that the letter ‘R’ is very much underrepresented. Enjoy the read and when done think about the poor people trying to learn English that have to pronounce these words. Also, as always, we enjoy comments and feedback - this is how we learn. Do not hesitate to share this link with others.

Roux, noun

Pronounced rew as in stew.

This is a cooking term meaning a mixture of fat and flour cooked together to form a brown paste or thick gravy.  Often the fat used is butter but it can be various oils or animal fats. Many Cajun recipes, such as gumbo and crawfish etouffée, are made by starting with a roux.  The word roux comes from the French meaning red-haired or brown sauce – you choose. (I wonder if the French ever use roux to mean saucy redhead?)

The plural of roux is roux which is good because I wouldn’t know how to pronounce rouxes.

“Paul brought a half cup of butter to nearly 400 degrees before he put in the flour and spices and stirred them until he had a nice thick roux which he referred to as Cajun napalm.”

Roué, noun

Pronounced rew (as in Roux) ey (as in Fay.) Accent on the é.

A wantonly licentious or lecherous man, a rake, a profligate, a guy that likes saucy redheads. A couple of dictionaries define a roué as a dissipated man. That definition forced me to look up dissipated which apparently can mean indulging in sensual or foolish pleasures. Who knew?

The plural of roué is roués which is also known as a fraternity and in some circles, the trumpet section.

The history of roué is pretty interesting. Roué is the past participle of the French verb rouer meaning broken on the wheel.  Apparently, in 1720, the profligate Philippe II, Duke of Orleans and Regent of France, called his licentious companions “roués” thus implying that they needed to be broken on a wheel. The term then took on the new meaning.

“Bernard and his coterie of debauched rakes, who frequently were in the company of courtesans, are known as the Roués of Rue Royale.” 

Rue, verb

Pronounced roo as in kangaroo.

To be sorry for or to regret. To feel remorse or to lament. This appears to come from the Old English. In Beowulf, it is used as hreow.

“Stu clued Sue that he knew she would rue the day she called in with the blue flu.”

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Row, noun

Proununced rou as in pow or wow.

A noisy disturbance, a brawl, a loud quarrel. A commotion or clamor. It can be used as an intransitive verb as well. And, so you don’t have to look it up, an intransitive verb is one that doesn’t need a object.

Americans have developed the word rowdy which clearly is a diminutive of row. The origin of row is not known. However, Shakespeare used rowse as a shortened form of carouse in Othello. So let’s blame the existence of row on Shakespeare.

Of course, when pronounced ‘rō’ as in ‘tow’, it refers to a form of nautical locomotion or a line of stuff.

“The sight of a sow standing in the prow and rowing with a bough caused a tremendous row.”

Roe, noun

Pronounced row as in toe.

Fish eggs or the egg laden ovarian member of a fish. Roe from a sturgeon (usually beluga sturgeon) is usually referred to as the delicacy caviar. The word origin is pretty boring. It comes from the Middle English rowe.

A roe is also a small deer with forked horns.

“Mr. Sears sold his roebuck so that he would have enough money to buy a ton of Russian Beluga roe.”

Ruse, noun

Pronounced rooz, as in kangaroos.

A strategy or subterfuge to mislead or trick someone.

This word comes from the Old French ruser meaning to dodge or practice deceit. In the seventeenth century, it was used as a hunting term to describe the dodging motion of the game.

“The roués rued the day when they caused a row by attempting a ruse to steal the beluga roe from the chef while he was focusing on his roux.”

Note: If you read this before the evening of 7 June 2011 you will have seen an error in my definition of intransitive verb under the word 'row.' Amy Rogers pointed out that I said 'subject' instead of 'object.' It has been fixed but in defense, I was half right - they both have 'ject' as part of the word.

Disclaimer: The author, his heirs, his editors (of which he apparently has many), his colleagues, his cat, nor the gophers in his yard take any responsibility for slip of the tongues, mispronounced words, misunderstandings, or subsequent rows that might come from using The Toad’s Words.

Copyright © by Michael L. VanBlaricum, 2011. All Rights Reserved.

New Trick for Old Dogs

My Facebook friends may recall that my one and only 2011 New Year’s Resolution was to learn new tricks so that I don’t become an old dog. The hard part was deciding what those new tricks might be. I considered learning to play the blues on the harmonica or blue grass on a five-string banjo. Both are still on my life list but I don’t see any hope for this year. I considered learning to tango but that requires my partner be involved and this was my resolution, not hers. Reading and writing poetry has become my main new trick. I would like to say that I came up with that by sagacity, but the truth is that it was serendipity. However, this short note is about another new trick which I freely admit was gotten to by having observant friends that like to point out my weaknesses.

I learned to tie my shoes fifty-five years ago in kindergarten. Jody McQuown taught me how to do this while we were supposed to be napping on our rugs. She taught me to make what I now know to be named the Two-Loop Shoelace Knot. This is quite different from  the Standard Shoelace Knot that everyone else in my family was tying. It seemed to me (as a five-year old) that making bunny ears and wrapping one around the other and then pushing one through the rabbit hole was a lot easier than what my parents and brother were trying to teach me. I still do.

I have often bragged that I tie a perfect bow for my shoes. When my wife and daughters needed a bow for a dress or their hair they would come to me to make one of these very symmetric bows. But what I didn’t realize, until a few weeks back, was that my “perfect bow” was not.

An emeritus math professor friend of mine was visiting and watching me tie my shoes. Engineers and mathematicians are really good at staring at other people’s feet. How do you tell if an engineer is an extrovert or an introvert? An extroverted engineer looks at your feet while he is talking to you, an introvert looks at his own. Anyway, my math professor friend watched me tie my traditional Two-Loop (Bunny-Ear) Shoelace Knot and then make it into a double knot. “I thought you were an Eagle Scout?” he said.

“Yes,” I answered with a little fear. Then, once I determined that he truly was watching the knot I tied, I said, “I know this is different but it produces a perfect knot.”

“No,” he said with a tone that I am sure he had developed from years of telling students that the way they just took the integral of the differential form was wrong. “You just tied a Granny Knot. No wonder you have to tie a double knot.”

Over the years I have taken to tying double knots in the bows so they don’t come undone. I first started doing this back when I ran with coworkers at lunchtime and they didn’t like stopping while I retied my shoes.

I was stunned. I looked at my shoes (more out of shame than checking what he had just said) and realized that he was right. Fifty-five years of training my hands to go right-over-left then right-over-left was wrong. I should have been going left-over-right then right-over-left, if I had ever thought about it. Tying your shoes is like riding a bicycle, if you think about what you are doing you will probably mess up. Now I would have to retrain my hands. I didn’t think it was possible. I immediately untied my shoes and retied them properly but with much difficulty. I was certain that I could not learn this new approach. I would never be able to tie my shoes in the dark again.

I am here to report that my old dogs now have new bows. Not only does a properly tied square-knot bow not need to be double knotted but old hands can be retaught. I still can’t figure out how I didn’t notice that I have been tying a Granny Knot for all of those years. I guess I am an extrovert.

Reflections in a Double Doo Wop

By

M.L. VanBlaricum

© May 2011

I drove my love to the airport today.

Her heart now beats A Thousand Miles Away.

Over the Mountain, Across the Sea,

We have an Unchained Melody.

In the Still of the Night I put music on,

And listened to some doo wop songs.

C, A minor, F, then G,

Put me in a maudlin key.

My heart became a little blue.

All I want is Only You.

I should probably change this song.

Perhaps a Rama Lama, Ding Dong?