After a day off to refresh ourselves, Owl Chatter is back with the usual nonsense, I hope. We flew the owl coop and ran down to Baltimore, which called itself Charm City (in the past) — and we were charmed. Stayed in a neat historic downtown hotel — The Ulysses, and the folks were very nice. It was a real neighborhood with lots of hip young people around, music in the air at night, and interesting restaurants.
It was a 30-minute walk to the ballpark and we took in a game. Great scene — big crowd, gorgeous stadium (see pic). I wore my bright orange rugby shirt and an O’s cap. Unfortunately, the Baltimore bats were moribund, with the sole blip on the EKG being a solo dinger by Austin Hays after the birds were already down 4-0 — until there were two outs in the ninth. Then a walk and two scorching doubles brought the tying run to the plate! But a strikeout ended the game. Texas 5, Birds 3.
We popped out onto the street to go to dinner at the Nepal House, an Indian restaurant across from the Ulysses which got excellent reviews. Suddenly, this young gentlemen appeared before us and said: “Are you from around here? Is the Ethiopian restaurant on Maryland Avenue? I just told that couple it was, but I’m not 100% sure.”
I said, “No, we’re not from around here, but wait – there’s an Ethiopian restaurant nearby?” He said, “Yes, just a few blocks away.” We thanked him, I located it on my phone and we had a great Ethiopian dinner – how’s that for blind luck? Breakfast today was even better — a little cafe with tables outside. Linda’s omelet was excellent, and I had a scrambled-up egg-and-veggie thingie with Maryland crabmeat mixed in. Wow.
We were enjoying a cup o’ coffee at S’bux this morning, when I noticed this billboard right across the road:
Setting aside the glaring who/whom error, what a nice job by someone! I sent a photo of it to Owl-Chatter-friend Norrie (who eats that stuff up) and she told me she was posting it on facebook. I replied that I’m posting it on my fat tuchas, so it’s getting some good exposure.
Will the Maureen Dowd word-list become famous? Here’s what she wrote in her column today:
My most precious possession from my time at Columbia University is a green Patrón box stuffed with slips of paper on which I scribbled the new words I learned.
Limerence. Peloothered. Clinchpoop. Chthonic. Sillage. Agnation. Akratic. Leptodactylous. Chiasmus. Caesious. Pythoness. Pettifogger. Paronomasia. Dithyramb. Propugnaculum. Adumbrate. Remembrancer. Meridional. Prehensile. Aeternitatis. Scrupulosity. Supererogatory. Anagnorisis. Spatiotemporal. Sialoquent. Alterity. Floccinaucinihilipilification.
Yikes — that’s one hell of a list. I’m going to start with the last one because it’s so out there.
Floccinaucinihilipilification means the action or habit of estimating something as worthless. I think it could work like this: “Ned’s floccinaucinihilipilification of Owl Chatter was getting tiresome. So I shot him.”
Let’s take propugnaculum next. It means bulwark, rampart, defense.
Peloothered? That means totally intoxicated. How did I end up sleeping in that dumpster last night? You were peloothered, you moron.
One more tonight (and we’ll save the rest for later).
Akratic. This is a great word. “Characterized by weakness of will, resulting in an action taken against one’s better judgment.” “Felix wondered if his akratic lending of $10,000 to his deadbeat brother-in-law might somehow be claimed on his tax return.”
Or — how about — raising a teenager is just one akratic act after another.
Taking a walk today, I couldn’t get All Too Well, by Taylor Swift out of my head. So I tracked it down for you (and me) — the version she sang at the Grammys. (You’re going to want to skip it if you’re a hater.)
‘Cause there we are again in the middle of the night
We’re dancing ‘round the kitchen in the refrigerator light
Down the stairs, I was there
I remember it all too well.
A little tired from the long drive. Good to be home with Welly and Wilma though. Good night folks.
The Wellington Files 