Dear Jane Austen Didn’t Prepare Me for This:

Dear KW:

After reading your post today, I was set again along the road of words.  Words that matter, words that signify, words that crackle on the tongue and purse the lips.  Those are my favorite words.  They are words that I enjoy pronouncing to my choir students to get them to enunciate.  Perusal.  Stick your lips out.  Tip of the tongue.  Teeth.  And for other words: Clack the back of the tongue at the highest ridge of the soft palate. Glt. Glt. Glt.  We need to understand you.

One of your favorite words, and I suspect a few more, is also one of my favorite words.  Dilettante.  A person who cultivates an interest without real knowledge or commitment.  Isn’t it a nice play on sound for a few other words we enjoy?  Diligent: to cultivate work to an end.  Dunt: firm knocking, which clearly leads to duntz (which I like to spell with a z as a brief acknowledgement of my fancy-free side) and we all know what duntz means.  Duh.  [This is not to say that a dilettante is a duntz.  Dilettante is more nuanced and can be more broadly interpreted in my mind.  It is also more elegant and less fancy-free.]

When I first learned dilettante, I understood it.  At the time, I felt myself blubbering my way through college and art school.   A dilettante of finer things, I felt lost and hazardous amongst them.  This connection naturally and immediately led to a song.

It was a challenge, but I diligently worked at it.  So as not to put dilettante out there to be critically crushed in songwriting class, I mixed in a few other favorite words to balance the feeling of it in the singer’s mouth, my mouth.

Here are the lyrics; I’ll let you guess at my other favorite words:

A DENIZEN OF INNOCENCE TYPICALLY ALRIGHT
SOMETIMES ALL THIS POLISHING OF SINNERS MAKES ME WANT TO FIGHT
A DILETTANTE OF FINER WAYS I’M ALWAYS LEAVING MARKS
SOMETIMES ALL I GET FROM LIFE IS KNOWING I TRY HARD

A PARAGON OF IMPERFECTION BASICALLY MY FAULT.
AT SOME POINT I DECIDED THAT I’M ALWAYS GONNA FALL
DERACINATE THE POTETATE AND TELL HIM IT’S ALRIGHT
SOMETIMES PEOPLE MAKE MISTAKES EVEN THOUGH THEY KNOW WHAT’S RIGHT.

MAMA’S ON THE TELEPHONE TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M A CHILD
IT DOESN’T EVEN MATTER THAT I’M 1600 MILES AWAY
TAKE THIS OFF OF ME.
I TRY NOT TO BE UNDER COVER.

IT’S LIKELY THAT YOU’RE THINKING THAT I SHOULDN’T ACT THIS WAY
WELL EVERY OTHER DAY I THINK A BEER OR TWO’S OKAY
THE LEITMOTIF I’M HEARING SOUNDS LIKE A WATERFALL
NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO IT WILL ALWAYS HIT THE GROUND

THE AFTERNOON IS FILLED WITH THE WINE OF TEMPTATION
AND I DON’T KNOW WHEN THIS FEELING COMES
BUT I OFTEN SUCCUMB.

Aside: I did end up recording this song with some guys [it’s always with some guys] and the only thing I heard from them for weeks was the hook: Mama’s on the telephone! It was too high for most of them to sing.  [They always think it’s always funny when it’s high.]

At long last, I would like to say thank you for you words.  Thanks for writing.  Thanks for helping us remember that there is nothing wrong with a strong vocabulary and reviewing it on a summer’s evening, even if a summer evening is not the best type of evening of the year.  [I have to admit agreeing with James on this one since I’m particularly enjoying this August’s 5-8pm slot.]

Aside 2: While on vacation with my mother and sister, I made them choose favorite words of the day.

All the best,

N.