In Plain Engel-ish

As a child, I was taught to use courteous terms such as “please” and “thank you.” But soon I happily discovered that “please” could be employed not only for courtesy but for enhanced begging: “Mom, I want some ice cream—Please!" If that failed, it became "PRETTY PLEEZE!!” And when all else failed, I brought out the biggest gun in my paltry arsenal of persuasion: “PRETTY PLEASE—WITH A CHERRY ON TOP!!!” On that rare occasion when my request was granted, Mom would create my favorite ice cream concoction: a sundae with two scoops of vanilla , hot fudge, whipped cream, and—yep,...

This morning I’d like to share with you the incredibly high-brow book that launched my lifetime love affair with reading when I was just a boy of eight. Yes, I’d really like to do that, but I also feel this burden about always being truthful with my readers. And so I might as well just admit that the book that first made me fall in love with literature was…was (come on Elliot, just spit it out)…The Tower Treasure, the first of the countless Hardy Boys Mystery Series by Franklin W. Dixon. There—now it’s out in the open, and I don’t...

Not all of the brilliant teachers who inspired me to become a professor taught English. I shall never forget the inspiration I received from a college teaching assistant of anatomy. And it all began with a photograph in “The Daily Student,” our university newspaper. The photo showed our student government president angrily raising his middle finger to a nationally known political figure who had come to campus to speak at an outdoor rally on the ongoing Vietnam War. It was quite the scandal to have captured our impulsive student body president rudely “giving the finger” to this renowned campus visitor...

Was your experience with dance lessons as uncomfortable as mine? Mine were held at The Jewish Community Center when I was fourteen. All of us sufferers were eighth-graders. I assume our class was only for Jewish kids because back then many of our parents would be alarmed if we even dated, let alone married, someone outside our faith. I guess they figured that we might as well learn how to dance exclusively with partners whom we might one day “waltz down” the aisle with in marriage.  Fourteen was a bad age to hold members of the opposite sex in your...

When I ran for student council treasurer in high school, my opponent was Ben, our 6’3 star basketball center. His nickname, of course, was “Big Ben” so all his campaign posters incorporated London’s Big Ben. My campaign manager was a kid who sat next to me in homeroom, very bright but quite unpopular for reasons I couldn’t understand. We brainstormed as to how we could highlight my name on posters and subtly disparage his. “Hey,” I said, “how about: ‘Why settle for Big Ben when you can vote for jolly old Engel-land?’” “Well, aren’t you the clever one?” he lazily...