Sent an e-mail the other day in which I used the phrase 'to a T' (was informed it was an idiom. Made me nervous as that word's awful close to idiot, which is even more close to the truth). My e-mail followed the T with (tee, tea?). Lame attempt at humor. H - we don't know each other well enough for me to involve H in this drivel - sent me a site to click on that ran me through the history of the phrase (idiom). My interest piqued (peeked, peaked?), I did further research and figured the weight of speculation ran back to the time of the King James Bible and its use of the word tittle, as in 'not one jot or tittle'. Over time the word was shortened to T, meaning to hit the nail on the head and also to keep the grammar police from working overtime. The shape of the T got me thinking of the cross and Christ being nailed to it. Read somewhere that back in the day when crucifixion was the thing to do the typical cross was shaped like a capital T not a lower case t. 'Course that brings up the controversy of whether Christ was roped or nailed to the cross and I don't want to go there.
All by the by till I recalled the days of my youth when I used to closely follow football. Came to remember one of the premier pro quarterbacks, name of Y. A. Tittle (coincidence?). Think he went by that moniker 'cause his full name was Yelvington Abraham Tittle. I figure it was shortened to his initials to allow the TV announcers to spit his name out before the start of the next play. Anyhow, Tittle played back in the days when the T formation was in vogue. Tittle was one heck of a passer. Most of his flings were works of art, perfection. His throws usually hit the receiver on the button which suited the fans to a T. Top that off with Abraham being in the King James Bible and you've got yourself something to ponder.
Emil: "Yeah, it's drivel alright."
Friday, April 29, 2016
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Dreams
It's 3:14am. Not sure if it's early or late. Seems like it's more likely early as it's pretty dark outside the window. Had a dream and couldn't go back to sleep. If you've read this blog you know that I dream. They tell me things. Mostly about myself. Also offer an occasional, tantalizing eggplant recipe. Should I wake, find myself rollin' it over and over, there's no way I'm going back to sleep unless I rise and write it down. So that's what I'm sittin' here doing.
Anyhow, I was writing novels for publication. Had written two and sent them off to a publisher. Can't say I was happy about their content. Sister Eleanor Marie would have called them too cut and dried and I knew it was true. No meat. Then got this idea for at least three more stories taken from back page newspaper articles that'd run serial-like for several days. Put them together and flesh them out. Voila! Story. Then talked the idea over with some co-workers. Came to realize how personal I'd have to get to make the stories real. Next found myself interviewing the family from one of the stories. Conflicting views and emotion from all sides yet each was based on truth. Said "there's as many sides to a story as there are to a circle." Just inside and out or infinite in number? Gave it some thought and felt both were right.
A few months ago my granddaughter Mollie simply said to me, "You're Uncle Emil." Thought of it in bed after the dream and got me thinking.
Earlier in the evening I'd reread some of the earlier Emil and Deadman Lake entries. Altogether there's enough strange humor in them to flesh out several stories. Thought of the last Emil story 'The Walk' and felt it could be made into something like Bradbury's "The Illustrated Man." Instead of Emil on the hike it's Archie. Reminisces on scenes of his life and tales told as he walks the woods.
Not sure yet how the dream and the story idea fit together but somehow they do.
Been contacted by an editor from Beaver's Pond about my story. Her name is Hanna. Good name. Hope she can see the merit of printed idiocy.
Worked up and scared. Yup that sums me up nicely. I need help, lots of help. Or maybe it's much ado about nothing (read that somewhere).
Anyhow, I was writing novels for publication. Had written two and sent them off to a publisher. Can't say I was happy about their content. Sister Eleanor Marie would have called them too cut and dried and I knew it was true. No meat. Then got this idea for at least three more stories taken from back page newspaper articles that'd run serial-like for several days. Put them together and flesh them out. Voila! Story. Then talked the idea over with some co-workers. Came to realize how personal I'd have to get to make the stories real. Next found myself interviewing the family from one of the stories. Conflicting views and emotion from all sides yet each was based on truth. Said "there's as many sides to a story as there are to a circle." Just inside and out or infinite in number? Gave it some thought and felt both were right.
A few months ago my granddaughter Mollie simply said to me, "You're Uncle Emil." Thought of it in bed after the dream and got me thinking.
Earlier in the evening I'd reread some of the earlier Emil and Deadman Lake entries. Altogether there's enough strange humor in them to flesh out several stories. Thought of the last Emil story 'The Walk' and felt it could be made into something like Bradbury's "The Illustrated Man." Instead of Emil on the hike it's Archie. Reminisces on scenes of his life and tales told as he walks the woods.
Not sure yet how the dream and the story idea fit together but somehow they do.
Been contacted by an editor from Beaver's Pond about my story. Her name is Hanna. Good name. Hope she can see the merit of printed idiocy.
Worked up and scared. Yup that sums me up nicely. I need help, lots of help. Or maybe it's much ado about nothing (read that somewhere).
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