The Toad’s Words - Excursus #24

For this Excursus of the Toad, I have decided to explore some F-words. Now, calm down. It’s not what you think; this is a family (an F-word, by the way) set of excursuses. You see, I was reading an article the other day and the author used flout and flaunt in the same sentence and I thought, “I am not sure if I know what the flip flout means.” So, I looked it up and it said, “often confused with flaunt.” Now, if that is not an invitation to an excursus then I don’t know what is. So, without further ado, we proceed.

Flout, verb

Pronounced flout (yep, even the dictionaries say that flout is pronounced flout. Useful, don’t you think?) Pronounce it out with an fl in front of it.

To treat with scorn or to mock. To show contempt. To scoff.

Flout, the noun means a contemptuous mocking speech or action.

The word seems to originate from the Middle English word flouten, to play the flute. While none of my dictionaries or etymologies will go out on a limb and say this, they seem to imply that the flute was used at times to mock actions on the stage.

I found flout used several times in Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing. For example in Act 5, Scene 1, as a verb:

“I know them, yea, And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple— Scrambling, outfacing, fashion-monging boys, That lie and cog and flout, deprave and slander, ...”

And as a noun: Shakespeare wrote in Act 5, Scene 2, of Love’s Labour’s Lost:

“Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance;”

Flaunt, verb

Pronounced flawnt (awnt is pronounced the way some folks from the upper East Coast pronounce aunt.)

To try to impress others obtrusively.  To show off.

Here the origin is also in doubt. One source says it points towards a French origin but I cannot find a French word so perhaps they were referring to French actions? (The French wouldn't flaunt, would they?) The origin I like the best says perhaps it is a combination of words like flounce and vaunt.

“The most unkindest cut of all,” Gerald exclaimed after his teacher called him a pedant who flaunted his knowledge of Shakespeare by quoting him constantly.

Flautist, noun

Pronounced flou (as in how) and tist as in list.

You might think this is an easy one for anyone paying attention. Clearly a flautist is one who flauts! But you would be wrong. A flautist is one who plays the flute. Some people call a flautist a flutist which is also correct but not as cool or highfalutin!

Flautist comes from the Italian word flautista which means a person who plays the flute.

I wonder, if a flautist is a person who plays the flute is a floutist a person that mocks people?

Floyd, the fellow from Flanders, played the bellows-mender, Flute, in A Midsummer Night’s Dream while Florence, his wife, was the flautist behind the curtain trying to set the mood by using a vintage wooden flute.

Flounce, verb

Pronounced with fl from flour and ounce from the word ounce.

To move with greatly exaggerated and clumsy motions or to make jerky and abrupt movements with the limbs. Also, to flounder or struggle.

Possibly of Scandinavian origin from the Swedish flunsa (to plunge) and Norwegian flunsa  (to hurry). It also may have been formed in the 16^th century from flop and bounce. I like the latter theory better.

For disambiguation (as they say on Wikipedia) purposes we are focusing here on the verb form and not the noun form (which refers to a gathered piece of cloth that is often used with curtains).

The flounder flounced all over the bottom of the boat trying to flip itself back into the water.

Flauta, noun

Pronounced flou as in flour and ta as in ta da! The accent is on the flou.

A tightly rolled flour tortilla filled with shredded chicken or beef or cheese. It is deep fried and then covered with sour cream, guacamole, or salsa, or all of the above if you are lucky. So I can hear it now - some people are saying, “No, that’s a taquito.” Nope, a taquito is the same thing but made with corn tortillas.

This comes from the Spanish flauta meaning flute. So the flauta looks like a small flute – but I guess that would actually be a piccolo.

Felicity ordered a chicken flauta with everything on it at Felipe’s, the little walk-in Mexican restaurant in the Fen.

Flan, noun

Pronunced flawn, as in ‘lawn’ with an f.

Staying on that food theme thing. In Spanish cooking and in the US, a flan is a dessert of sweetened egg custard with a soft caramel layer on top – a crème caramel. A crème brulee has a hard caramel layer on top in case you were confused. In England, a flan is usually a tart with a filling of custard, cheese, or occasionally fruit that has a shell baked in a bottomless metal form known as a flan ring (clever name).

Flan is a French name but comes from the Old German frado meaning flat cake.

Florian liked his flan free standing so he could poke at it with his spoon and watch it wiggle while Flynn like his flan with a baked dough crust so he could pick it up and eat it with his hands.

Flam, noun

Pronounced flam as in Sam.

A hoax, a deception, a trick, or a lie. Also, nonsense or drivel.

This is actually a shortened version of the word flimflam which is also of Scandinavian origin. Why is it words like flounce and flimflam are of Scandinavian origin?

Florrie watched the flimflam man, Flip, flounce around Flavio’s Café trying to pull his hot flauta flam by pretending to have burned himself but not realizing that he was about to slip on the flan the flautist Florrine had accidently knocked on the floor in frustration when Fletcher flouted her for flaunting her knowledge of Friedrich von Flotow’s opera, Martha.

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

Copyright © by Michael L. VanBlaricum, 2011.

All Rights Reserved.

I Never Stole a Watermelon

 

by  M.L. VanBlaricum

© June 2011

I’m a victim of the year of my birth, 1950, the halfway point in the Twentieth Century. World War I, The Great Depression, Prohibition, and World War II all happened before I was born. I entered the world right when it was getting ready to rest. The main menace to the U.S. when I was a kid was rock and roll. My development was guided by Ding Dong School, Father Knows Best, Make Room for Daddy, and Leave it to Beaver.

I've never stolen a watermelon. I've never pushed over an outhouse, broken my nose, or ridden a horse to school. My dad has. I've never gotten caught playing poker in the back of the school bus or knocked myself out trying to fly like Superman. My older brother has. Not that I'd want to put any of those things on my resume, but everything that I have done CAN be put on my resume.

I never soaped a window or put a firecracker in a mailbox on Halloween. I was the little boy that dressed up like Casper (the Friendly Ghost) and went trick or treating at our neighbors - the ones with the porch lights on.

               

My brother was born in 1943 right in the middle of World War II, just in time to be influenced by Korea and McCarthyism. Having an older brother accounts for my plight a little. He tried things first. I watched and learned the consequences.

               

Remember the song that Howdy Doody used to sing: "Will My Dog be Proud of Me". I can still sing it. All my life I've wondered if my dog would approve of my actions ‑ and the only dog I ever had tiptoed around mud puddles. So, because of Howdy Doody, my social life was about as exciting as ditch water.

I can't tell locker room stories because I didn’t play sports. I was too small for football, too short for basketball, and too slow for track. I can tell you all the heavy action that goes on in the trombone section at band practice. Well, no, I guess I can't. I was the one who always paid attention to the director.

I never went to a canal party. A canal party is where you go to the canal, drink beer, and go skinny dipping ‑ sometimes with girls. On Monday at school you tell lots of lies about it. I did go to school on Mondays.

I never dated until I was sixteen and never drove a car until I was legal. When my dad was a kid they hadn't invented driver's licenses yet.  You could drive as soon as your feet reached the pedals on the Model A and of course you were in the field driving the tractor (or was it oxen?) as soon as you could walk.

I never smoked out behind the woodshed (or anywhere for that matter). We didn’t even have a woodshed. We didn’t need one. Hence, I didn’t have to split firewood. But, growing up in Illinois with images of Honest Abe, The Rail Splitter, everywhere, I felt like I needed to ax something.

I can't tell war stories because I never wore a uniform. No, band and Boy Scout uniforms don't count. My dad was a fighter pilot and my great grandfather helped Sherman burn Atlanta, so I know I have it in my genes. I got a college deferment for Vietnam. Not that I wanted to go to Nam, but they say R & R was great. I have a friend who admired a girl's puppy in Bangkok so she gave it to him - with rice and hot sauce.

I've never gone hunting. Well, except for that one time I went snipe hunting. My dad used to hunt rabbit and squirrel and go ‘coon hunting with his brothers. He tells great stories about their dog, Ol’ Blue ‑ the best darn coonhound in Southern Illinois. My dad had a sawed off shotgun. I had a squirt gun.

I have never broken a bone. I have a friend who tells about ending upside down in the fork of a tree on a ski slope in Aspen with two broken legs. Another friend broke both his arms in Karate class. Even my wife managed to break her leg by riding her bike behind a neighbor as he pulled out of his drive. My daughter broke her arm when she was only five. And did I tell you how my dad broke his nose?

I've never done anything cool. The people who wrote the Boy Scout Handbook point to me with pride. However, I’ve learned the fine art of living vicariously. I can tell if a person has a good story by looking at the glow in his cheeks and the bend in his nose. I've heard some of the best whiskey drinking, girl chasing, plane flying, car racing, bootlegging stories ever told. In fact, I have this friend that tells a whiskey drinking, girl chasing, plane flying, car racing, bootlegging story that would curl your hair.

Ok, ok. I did do some crazy things. I invented streaking! I escaped from my bath and ran naked down the street when I was three. In fifth grade I got sent to the principal’s office for allegedly pushing Barbara Marshall into a mud puddle. I hustled pool in college. Well, actually I helped my friend, the Big Ten pocket billiards champion, hustle by being his shill. The biggie is - I snuck into a strip joint and drank beer at the University of Wisconsin when I was only nineteen. I even talked to one of the strippers. A really nice girl ‑ Bubbles I think her name was. She showed me what to do with a dollar bill.