In Plain Engel-ish

It is odd that Dorothy Parker, the unfailingly witty mid-century author, was also unfailingly suicidal. What a stroke of genius it was for her to combine these two contradictory impulses in one of her most famous rhyming ditties: Razors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren’t lawful; Nooses give; Gas smells awful; You might as well live. A contemporary of Parker’s was the Queen Of Crime, Agatha Christie. She could have perused Parker’s extensive suicidal possibilities in that little poem for the best murder methods as well. And yet with so many delightful...

Here’s a jaunty question to start us off this Monday morning. What are your odds of dying today?  Of course, many variables come into play, but overall the odds of your actually dying today are only one in 365,000. I’d say it’s more than safe to assume you’ll be there for any fun plans you might have for April 7th. This peculiar death-day theme has come about because I just gave my How William Became Shakespeare program for the bazillionth time, (rough estimate) and I always begin by pointing out that Shakespeare was born and died on April 23rd, making him...

I have always been a sucker for “Guess what?”. The first time I remember hearing it was in second grade when my teacher began the day by exclaiming “Guess what, class!” My hand shot up. Miss Consodine pointed at me and said “What is it, Elliot?” The rest of the class looked at me curiously. “We’re going to be quizzed on telling time?” I guessed. We’d been told weeks ago that we needed to learn to accurately read a clock. I’d driven my family crazy by glancing at a clock at least hourly and yelling “It’s five of three!” or...

If the people who lived in England between 500-1500 AD were to return today, they would be outraged that we call their period “The Dark Ages.” They would have a point. Any historical period that includes Columbus, Chaucer, and Saint Thomas Aquinas can hardly be labeled “dark”, with so many intellectual giants who still wow us a thousand years later with their brilliant accomplishments. To be fair, we often called it “The Middle Ages.” But this supposed upgrade actually still downgrades it. Exactly what are these “Middle Ages” in the middle of, anyway? They are between the earlier vibrant Classical...

When a former student, who wrote her master’s thesis under my direction, was named Head of the English Department at her community college, we celebrated by having dinner at a fine restaurant. When she excused herself to visit the restroom before our main course arrived, I passed the time by practicing the fine art of eavesdropping on the table next to ours. At my advanced age, eavesdropping has become a bragging-right sport, given how pleased I am that my old ears are still up to the challenge. Seated at the neighboring table was a middle-aged mother and her attractive twenties-something...