Thursday, July 20, 2006
Life In Chicago: "Pull your sh*& up more closer..."
I just got back from the library. That statement, just the word library, probably brings to mind a geek wearing glasses and carting thick tomes of erudition, most likely wrapped in a flowing skirt and shod in Birkenstocks with her hair in braids, little to no makeup, and her eyes cast shyly to the ground.
Nope. I had on shorts, a short sleeved fitted shirt, running shoes, and a Johnny Walker baseball cap. Very little makeup, though; that part was correct.
I wasn't going to the library for any intellectual pursuit. Much of my day is spent working with HTML, PHP, Javascript, pdf's, jpg's, servers, databases and webhosts. I was going to the library for some entertaining non-challenging mysteries that would provide a few hours of escape from my think-think-think normal life.
Feeling slightly guilty at the stack of Iris Johansen novels I held closely to my chest like forbidden candy that some well-meaning adult would take away at any moment, I picked up several local periodicals on my way out. These are part of my "research" and how I keep up on all things Chicago. As a maniacal Type A person it is very difficult for me to indulge in a strictly pleasurable activity without some "redeeming" effort. Occasionally I have to force myself to read something whimsical, or listen to a song that increases my "cool" quotient with my 13-year-old son.
As I walked home I felt wise and intellectually enhanced just because I had accomplished an errand and I had simultaneously been in a building dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. Yes, while there I could check out a score of formulaic, predictable novels that would take 35 minutes to read and 3.5 to forget. And yet...I could also learn about any conceivable topic. Any time I'm in a library I imagine my IQ has gone up a point, just by osmosis.
It was with this mindset that I approached the intersection of Belmont and Broadway. And heard: "Pull your sh*& up more closer, you stupid f*&#."
I've been angry in a car before. I've been tempted to scream, cuss, give the bird, whip around some obviously incompetent driver and then slam on the brakes. Two key points, though: I have not given into that temptation, and when I did feel it I was driving and therefore had the illusion of control. This "gentleman", and I use the word very lightly, was sitting in the backseat.
Angry or not, I have never said "more closer." Ever.
I wanted to say to him that he probably shouldn't be calling anyone stupid if he couldn't grasp basic grammatical structure and couldn't find more creative insults than the four-letter ones.
Even if I hadn't just left a library I would have shaken my head in disgust. Grammatical rules have been drummed into me since I was a wee tot. My mother still corrects my grammar (it's "I petted the dog," not "I pet the dog." "The comma goes before the closing quotation mark."), and I have extended the tradition with my son. Any time I hear "me and her" or any other flagrant misuse of the English language a chill goes up my spine and I have to clamp my jaw shut to avoid an unwelcome correction.
I frequently break the rules, but each time I do it's with purpose. Run-on sentences convey excitement, energy, nervousness, anticipation - they're mood-setters. Dependent clauses used as sentences make punchy statements. Contractions, misspellings, and slang all contribute to a colloquial sense of friendship and intimacy.
I suppose I should just relax. The primary purpose of language is, after all, to communicate. And this "gentleman" definitely communicated. Just not the message he was hoping to deliver:
"You haven't pulled up far enough for us to get around. We have a green light and the back end of your car is blocking the intersection. This makes me angry, especially since my idiot friend is driving and I'm stuck in the backseat with this bimbo, so the only thing I can do is shout expletives at you even though you won't hear them because your windows are shut, so only the people on the sidewalk will hear me, and they'll think I'm an idiot because I've screamed out 'more closer' even though everyone knows that's redundant. But I'm going to go ahead and scream it anyway because it makes me feel better. So there."
Nope. I had on shorts, a short sleeved fitted shirt, running shoes, and a Johnny Walker baseball cap. Very little makeup, though; that part was correct.
I wasn't going to the library for any intellectual pursuit. Much of my day is spent working with HTML, PHP, Javascript, pdf's, jpg's, servers, databases and webhosts. I was going to the library for some entertaining non-challenging mysteries that would provide a few hours of escape from my think-think-think normal life.
Feeling slightly guilty at the stack of Iris Johansen novels I held closely to my chest like forbidden candy that some well-meaning adult would take away at any moment, I picked up several local periodicals on my way out. These are part of my "research" and how I keep up on all things Chicago. As a maniacal Type A person it is very difficult for me to indulge in a strictly pleasurable activity without some "redeeming" effort. Occasionally I have to force myself to read something whimsical, or listen to a song that increases my "cool" quotient with my 13-year-old son.
As I walked home I felt wise and intellectually enhanced just because I had accomplished an errand and I had simultaneously been in a building dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. Yes, while there I could check out a score of formulaic, predictable novels that would take 35 minutes to read and 3.5 to forget. And yet...I could also learn about any conceivable topic. Any time I'm in a library I imagine my IQ has gone up a point, just by osmosis.
It was with this mindset that I approached the intersection of Belmont and Broadway. And heard: "Pull your sh*& up more closer, you stupid f*&#."
I've been angry in a car before. I've been tempted to scream, cuss, give the bird, whip around some obviously incompetent driver and then slam on the brakes. Two key points, though: I have not given into that temptation, and when I did feel it I was driving and therefore had the illusion of control. This "gentleman", and I use the word very lightly, was sitting in the backseat.
Angry or not, I have never said "more closer." Ever.
I wanted to say to him that he probably shouldn't be calling anyone stupid if he couldn't grasp basic grammatical structure and couldn't find more creative insults than the four-letter ones.
Even if I hadn't just left a library I would have shaken my head in disgust. Grammatical rules have been drummed into me since I was a wee tot. My mother still corrects my grammar (it's "I petted the dog," not "I pet the dog." "The comma goes before the closing quotation mark."), and I have extended the tradition with my son. Any time I hear "me and her" or any other flagrant misuse of the English language a chill goes up my spine and I have to clamp my jaw shut to avoid an unwelcome correction.
I frequently break the rules, but each time I do it's with purpose. Run-on sentences convey excitement, energy, nervousness, anticipation - they're mood-setters. Dependent clauses used as sentences make punchy statements. Contractions, misspellings, and slang all contribute to a colloquial sense of friendship and intimacy.
I suppose I should just relax. The primary purpose of language is, after all, to communicate. And this "gentleman" definitely communicated. Just not the message he was hoping to deliver:
"You haven't pulled up far enough for us to get around. We have a green light and the back end of your car is blocking the intersection. This makes me angry, especially since my idiot friend is driving and I'm stuck in the backseat with this bimbo, so the only thing I can do is shout expletives at you even though you won't hear them because your windows are shut, so only the people on the sidewalk will hear me, and they'll think I'm an idiot because I've screamed out 'more closer' even though everyone knows that's redundant. But I'm going to go ahead and scream it anyway because it makes me feel better. So there."
