A Must-Have Reference Book

As of late, I've had a renewed interest in etymology. Perhaps it's because I'm writing more these days and I'm actively seeking new words and new modes of expression. Or perhaps it's because I'm weaning myself off certain medications and trying to navigate an uncertain future.

In any case, I've always had a certain fascination with words. Particularly when spoken aloud. It gave rise to many of my nicknames for the former president. For example Captain Fuckknuckle, Colonel Ouchie Foot or President Shitgibbon. 

I like these multisyllabic monikers because they trip off the tongue in a pleasing way. My friend Paul knows the proper terminology for this phrasing. I have forgotten it. Paul's a 2nd grade school teacher with a twisted mind and a nose for the obscure. He once showed me a tiny Jewish cemetery in the High Sierras along Rt. 395 that was no bigger than 25 square feet and is the eternal resting home for 5 hearty MOTs.   

I'm sure if he reads this blog post he'll send me a text: "It's called ____________, numbnuts."

You can imagine my excitement when I stumbled across the book pictured above. And yes, it is a literal dictionary. Some people get excited by silly foam illustrations on their lattes, or the latest iteration on the iPhone 13+, now with .03 centimeters more screen, I get excited about dictionaries.

I don't remember if someone suggested this book. I get a lot of suggestions. I even get requests. 

"You should do a blog about Rand Paul."

"You should do a blog about antisemitism in Japan."

"You should do a blog about people suggesting you do a blog."

But I am glad I splurged for the 17 bucks and had the Amazon driver, who must be tired of coming to my house, drop off a copy. I was immediately enamored with the title -- I'm a sucker for the mysterious grouping of words -- that hardly informs the reader of the content. 

So I will.

In this highly unusual book, the author has compiled a plethora of neologisms for emotions as yet undefined by the good folks at Webster. Put more pedantically, he makes up words for shit we have no words for.

Case in Point:

Sonder - n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

I can't begin to tell you how much I love that. Not because the "word" sonder means anything to anybody. And will probably not enter our lexicon like other more recent neologisms, ie. Cheugy.

But the definition of Sonder is chock full of insight about the human condition. Because we all tend to view the world from a limited self-centered perspective, which as sentient beings is understandable. However it would behoove us all to realize we share this time and this space with 8 billion other people and act accordingly.

I'll leave you with one more. And perhaps this one hits home because as a 64 year old man/widow/father I can't help but look at old photos with regret, sorrow and melancholy.

Daguerreologue - N. an imaginary conversation with an old photo of yourself, in which you might offer them a word of advice -- to banish your worries, soak it all in, or shape up before it's too late -- or maybe just ask them if they thought you had done justice to the life they built for you.

I would have reminded my former self to get the industrial-strength Minoxidol and stick with it.