Slang

Endangered Words

We have many endangered species in the world. Among the better-known at-risk animals are snow leopards, Asian elephants and orangutans. In Texas, we have the gray wolf and ocelot as endangered animals, among others. Endangered reptiles here include the Texas indigo snake and the horned lizard.

But that’s not my focus today. That’s just a segue to talk about something else that’s on my mind, and that’s endangered words. They are words that, through lack of use, or through use seemingly restricted to the more senior of us Texans, run the risk of dying out when we do. Now “y’all” and “fixin’ to” and the like are safe. They have vast popularity. They have even been observed migrating up north. My endangered list is comprised of words that are becoming scarce and may disappear altogether, only to be seen caged up in old dictionaries in the future.

I want to make sure to clarify that I’m not claiming the following words are endangered for everyone. Many Texans still use them daily. I’m just claiming that they are becoming far less common than they once were.

Mosey is one such word. It used to be quite popular and still is used often among octogenarians. But you never see it or hear it venturing out among those under 40. Often when you do hear it from someone under 40, it is used in caricature.

Reckon is another word I reckon is headed for true scarcity in the next few decades. That would be a shame because it does have a wonderful place in the linguistic ecosystem. It fills a niche and is not easily replaced. One can say “I guess,” or “I suppose,” but neither have the beautiful contemplative nature of “I reckon,” when said with eyebrows raised and tipping your hat back. It is the pronouncement of agreement reluctantly concluded.

Supper. This used to be the dominant word for the evening meal. Dinner was at noon. But as we’ve become more urban, supper has been pushed out by dinner.

Ice house and ice box. Ice house used to be a common expression for running to the convenience store or making a beer run: “Gonna run over to the ice house a minute.” Ice box is a synonym for the fridge: “Martha, we got any Blue Bell in the ice box?”

Yonder. “It seems that yonder is most popular out yonder in the country.”

To make sure I was on the right track, I conducted a survey on the net and found a few more words folks agreed seemed to be endangered:

Britches refers to pants, of course: “Get your work britches on and let’s get goin’” Britches is still used among those over 60, but not so popular among the under 30 crowd.

Cattywampus for catty-cornered. Cattywampus is one word and catty-cornered is hyphenated. Both are spelled with two t’s and neither has anything to do with cats: “The flower shop is cattywampus to the Exxon station.”

Cotton pickin.’ “Just a cotton pickin’ minute!” There could be lots of reasons for this. Many Texans over 50 or so, have memories of pickin’ cotton. Even though combines mostly took over decades ago, the expression remains. “In high cotton,” too, hangs on. It means “having it easy.”

Dreckly – sometimes said “di-rectly” – has nothing to do with direction or going straight to something. It is about time and in Texas, has the meaning of manana in Spanish. “Yeah, I’ll be gettin’ to mowin’ that lawn dreckly,” which may well mean in a few hours when I “finish watchin’ the Astros play.”

Sam Hill. “What the Sam Hill is going on here?!” My father said it so often I thought Sam Hill was a relative I’d never met, but I hoped to. Seemed that he lived an exciting life. But it was just a euphemism for “hell.” It’s used in place of “What the hell is goin’ on here?!” and since I can now say hell on the radio, you can see why Sam Hill is endangered.

Fair to middlin’ is interesting. It’s fading away as a common expression but perhaps finding a second wind by means of its malaprop. Some Texans have taken to saying “fair to Midland,” which makes sense if you are driving from El Paso, or maybe from Abilene. Fair to Midland, rain in Odessa.

And some words that many people said they believed were dying out – and sadly so – were these:

Please and thank you.

I hope not. I’ll do what I can right now to help. Thank you for listening. Please stay tuned to The Texas Standard.

Lingo for Gringos: Ten Spanish Words All Anglos Should Know

I call this commentary “Lingo for Gringos” mostly because it rhymes, but it should really be called “Ten Spanish Words all Texans Should Know.”

I’m not talking about the easy words like cerveza, vino, tortilla, taco and baño. And I’m not talking about the common words you say every day that are actually Spanish words – patio, plaza, armadillo, mosquito, etc. I’ve chosen 10 words that are important for their social significance. If you know very little Spanish but at least know these words, you will have a clue as to what is going on around you. Listos? Ready? Here we go.

Aguas means “watch out” or “be careful.” My wife uses it often when children are in danger: “Aguas, aguas,” she says with the same tone of impending doom, whether they are really about to walk off a cliff or could just get gently bumped by the fridge door. The expression has its roots in the cities of long ago when water used to be tossed out the second story windows and walkers below would warn their companions by yelling “aguas.”

Guácala is a slang word, popular throughout Latin America. It means “gross” or “disgusting.” It is also fun to say. It has an onomatopoeic quality that makes the word sound like what it describes. It animates the moment. Guácala, for all that disgusts you. And a true grammarian who just heard me torture the pronunciation of the adjective form for onomatopoeia probably just said it.

Ni modo is two words, but always sounds like one to me. I love this expression. It means “What can you do?” Or “It is out of our hands.” Or “Whatever will be will be.” Ni modo. Someone says, “They’ve changed the computer system at work again.” Ni modo.

N’ombre is not the meaning for “name,” but a word with an apostrophe that is short for “no, hombre.” N’ombre. “No way.” It has many nuances of meanings, but for the most part it expresses surprise, disbelief, or even shock. “Did you know Lisa and Chuy eloped?” N’ombre!

Güey means dude. N’ombre, güey! “It can’t be, dude!” The Big Lebowski would be the ultimate güey. “El Güey aguanta.” “The Dude abides.”

Chisme is gossip or rumor. Good, juicy stories. “Tienes chisme?” “Got any good gossip?” When Facebook was new, I would hear people say, “Facebook es puro chisme,” meaning that private information could easily slip out and travel to all the last places you would want it to go.

Naca or naco. Don’t confuse this with narcos – those who work for cartels. A naca is a girl or a woman who sports unsophisticated tastes or at least less sophisticated than you. She is often, like true rednecks, proud of being authentic. If Jeff Foxworthy spoke Spanish he might do this routine: “If you think Sharpie eyebrows are high-fashion, you might be a naca. And if you think mullets are in – hate to say it – ‘N’ombre, que naco!’”

Sin vergüenza means without shame, or without embarrassment. It is used when someone stuffs her purse with buffet food at the reception. We say, “sin vergüenza.”

Resaca is a hangover. It is a common word in the Rio Grande Valley. It is another name for the oxbow lakes so common there. Just as the oxbow lake is a leftover or hangover from the Rio Grande, resaca is the name for a hangover from the tequila of the night before. “Tengo una resaca horrible.” “I have a horrible hangover.”

Órale is famous for having about 40 different meanings achieved by variations in vocal inflection and situation. Some linguists say it has 820 meanings depending on the tone, time of day, style of hair and what shoes you’re wearing. It is used for enthusiastic affirmation. Someone says “vámonos por una cerveza” and you say, “órale.” It means, “Let’s go ahead,” “absolutely,” “let’s do it,” “hurry up,” “wow,” and dozens of other things. One Texas English equivalent for órale is simply, “there you go.”

So there you have the 10 words that will be helpful to you. I want to say gracias to my gorgeous wife Lupita who has taught me these words and many others I cannot share on radio. But these 10 will serve you well in our increasingly multilingual world.

Soy W. F. Fuerte. Estos son Cuentos de Tejas. Algunos son ciertos.

I’m W.F. Strong. These are Stories From Texas. Some of them are true.

The Texan Origins of the Word Maverick

This is a biography of a word. It is about a word that was essentially born in Texas, grew up to achieve success here, and eventually became famous the world over. It has now gone well beyond its modest roots as a simple noun and transformed itself into impressive, symbolic fame as a metaphor.

The word is maverick. Maverick got its start in San Antonio, Texas, more than 150 years ago. In the world of words, it is a star: James Garner played Maverick in the TV western of the same name in the ’50s and ’60s, Tom Cruise was Maverick in Top Gun, Senator John McCain’s nickname is Maverick, and in Texas have the world champion Dallas Mavericks basketball team. The word means one who shuns custom, the lone wolf, one who blazes their own trail and is willing to go against the crowd, an independent thinker.

Those are the more symbolic meanings of maverick, but most people know that the word’s original meaning referred to unbranded cattle. Any cow that was unbranded was a maverick. But what fewer people know is that the original herd of unbranded cattle that launched the expression was owned by a man named Samuel Maverick. Those unbranded cows were Maverick’s cows. That is how the term came about. Ironic that his failure to brand his cattle branded his name in perpetuity.

Some say that this was his clever means of claiming all unbranded cattle as his own.

“There’s another unbranded calf. That’s mine.” Not true.

The fact of the matter is that Sam was not all that interested in ranching. He was a land baron, a real estate investor. He was more interested in acquiring land than actively farming or ranching it. He at one time owned so much land in Texas that he ranked up there with Richard King and Charles Goodnight. There is even a county named for him – Maverick County. Eagle Pass is the county seat.

I think it is a shame that Samuel Maverick became famous for his unbranded cattle because there are dozens of far more impressive ways that he demonstrated his maverick nature. He was a rare and unsung hero of the Texas revolution. In so being, he often lived up, quite impressively, to what his name would come to mean.

As a rich lawyer in South Carolina (with a degree from Yale), everybody in the Maverick clan expected young Samuel would take over one of his father’s many businesses. But he didn’t. He shocked them all when he chose a different path. He said that he was going to Texas to seek his fortune.

He arrived in San Antonio in 1835 as the winds of war were blowing. No one was buying land then because no one was sure they could hold it. Sam bucked that trend. He jumped in quickly and bought huge tracts of land around San Antonio and further east on along the Brazos. He seemed to believe in the old folk wisdom that you should buy land when no one wants it and sell it when everyone does.

He quickly became a trusted and admired man in San Antonio and joined the Alamo militia.

In fact, he would have died at the Alamo had he not been selected by his fellow volunteers to sign the Texas Declaration of Independence as their representative. So he was a maverick on March 2, 1836, when he risked his life, along with 59 others Texans, by the act of signing what Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna considered a treasonous document.

After independence was won, Samuel Maverick served as mayor of San Antonio, again putting a target on his back as a leading citizen of a rebellious city. Santa Anna had not given up on getting Texas back and so kept a list of those who were his enemies.

Six years after Independence, Santa Anna struck again. He sent General Adrian Woll to rattle his sabre in San Antonio and kill all those who took up arms against him. Maverick organized a resistance on the roof of the Maverick building. It was comprised of 53 men. Though they killed 14 and wounded 27 in the initial skirmish, they were soon surrounded by 900 Mexican troops and were forced to surrender.

Fortunately for Maverick and his friends, Woll did not carry out orders to execute them, probably because they were more valuable alive. Woll instead took many of these prominent Texans as prisoners and marched them back 1,000 brutal miles to Perote prison. One of them died along the way. Even today, at the Witte Museum, you can the water gourd that sustained Sam during that tumultuous march across Texas and Mexico.

Sam and friends were put into dark cells, chained together, and subjected to forced labor. Sam, as the representative of his men, asked for better conditions and was put into solitary confinement just for asking.

After a couple of months, Sam was told that Santa Anna would offer him his freedom in exchange for signing a document saying that Texas had been illegally seized and should be returned to Mexico. Lesser men might have taken the deal. But Maverick refused. He wrote, “I cannot bring myself to think that it would be in the best interest of Texas to reunite with Mexico. This being my settled opinion, I cannot sacrifice the interest of my country even to obtain my liberty, still less can I say so when such is not my opinion, for I regard a lie as a crime and one which I cannot commit. I must, therefore, make up my mind to wear my chains, galling as they are.”

While Sam was in the dungeon, unbeknownst to him, San Antonians elected him as their Congressional Representative in the Republic of Texas.

His release was finally negotiated by General Waddy Thompson, a family friend who was also trusted by Santa Anna. He did not have to sign anything. But Sam refused to leave without his San Antonio friends. He waited for them to be freed, too, which happened within a few days. Then they all traveled back to San Antonio together.

When Sam left the prison, he took with him the chains that had bound him all those long months as a lifelong reminder of the incalculable value of freedom.

Special thanks to Mary Fisher of San Antonio.

W.F. Strong is a Fulbright Scholar and professor of Culture and Communication at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. At Public Radio 88 FM in Harlingen, Texas, he’s the resident expert on Texas literature, Texas legends, Blue Bell ice cream, Whataburger (with cheese) and mesquite smoked brisket.

Words, They are a Changin’

Slang is the working class of words. Carl Sandburg said “slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work.”

But slang is always changing. For an older guy like me, It’s hard to keep up with.

Did you know that “on fleek,” “squad,” and “lit” are on their way out? Neither did I. Those words are going out before I knew they were in. Hell, I just learned “hipster” a few months ago, which likely proves I’m not one. It also shows I’m late to learn new slang. No surprises there. By the time I catch up with a new movement, it has generally moved on.

Millennials, by contrast, change slang faster than Taylor Swift changes boyfriends.

One trend that I have noticed lately is how many words or expressions common 20 years ago have either disappeared altogether or reversed meanings.

“Parking” is a case in point. Twenty years ago parking was the term for finding a quiet spot on a country road and enjoying some intimate time with your date.

That meaning is gone. If you bring up that term in front of today’s college students, they will say, “I know. The parking problem on campus is terrible.” If you explain what it used to mean they will say, “Oh, you mean Netflix and chill!”

“Shade” is something I’ve always tried to sit in. Now, evidently, it is something you can throw.

“Sick” is the new cool. “Sick” used to mean ill, but now it means that something is hip: “That is a sick tune you’re playin’.” Wicked is also strangely good. “Leah, you’re sick and wicked.” That’s a compliment!

“Savage” used to be a word no one wanted to be associated with. Now it works as praise. “That motorcyle jump was savage, dude.” Or you can use it as a verb, “You savaged that Snickers bar.”

“Dope?” used to be an idiot – as in “He’s a dope.” Now, it is something or someone who is super cool, as in “that’s so dope” or “nobody’s dope as me.” There are even caps that sport the word DOPE right up front. A few decades ago that would have been a punishment.

“Howdy” has largely been replaced, at least among some millennials by “‘Sup,” a contraction of “What’s up?” But I’m sure there’s still a few young “howdiers” out there.

“Awesome” has changed in the sense that it used to be a powerful word, a word that could bench press 500 pounds. It was reserved for Godly things, for divine things. You would use it for a crimson sunset over El Capitan in West Texas. But now this sublime word is used promiscuously – as in “those are awesome tacos” or “You’ll be here in ten minutes? Awesome.” Inflation has set in. “Awesome” has lost its awesomeness. The same is true for “amazing.”

We have some nonverbal reversals, too. Wearing your cap backwards or sideways used to be considered nerdy. Wearing it cocked to the side once made you seem like a clown. Today, wearing it that way can be “dope.” But only in youth culture. If I were to do it, I would look like an old clown. Best for me to stick to Stetsons.

Used to be that wearing your shirt tail out was slovenly. Now, it is stylish. Wearing your shirt tucked in is considered nerdy. Out is in and in is out. Unless you are talking about Western fashion where the tucked tradition mostly prevails.

One word that seems to have weathered the decades without changing is “cool.” “Cool” was cool in the sixties and it is still cool today. And not only is it cross-generational, it is cross-cultural, too. “Cool” is cool in the African-American world. It’s cool in the hispanic world and it’s cool in white culture. It’s cool in rap and it’s cool in country. It’s transcontinental as well. People around the world who don’t speak English seem to know at least two words: “okay” and “cool.” “Cool” is singularly diverse with diverse acceptance. And that’s awesome.

A younger, perpetually cooler friend heard me making these observations and he said to me, “Don’t be throwin’ shade on our slang. You just need to get woke, dude.”

That’s probably true. Workin’ on it.

‘Til next time, YOLO y’all.

Texas Standard: July 13, 2016

Texas dealing with tensions over race and policing. Moments of healing at a Dallas memorial service… and reminders of past scars, we’ll explore. Also One year ago today, a young woman found dead in her jail cell. The video of the arrest that put her there going viral. Plus no silver bullet: recommendations for fixes to the state’s foster care system and new challenges right around the corner. And Texas teens can face intense personal challenges… a look at why it appears young Latinas are especially feeling the pressure. And why what was once cool may also be hot… and what’s good is also wicked… today on the Texas Standard:

Lowtalkers

Everyone has an accent, especially Texans. But some people also have an extra layer of unique speech: the lowtalkers. They were the inspiration for Typewriter Rodeo’s Sean Petrie as he wrote this week’s poem.