Idioms Tell Volumes About Us

Idioms Tell Volumes About Us

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

Whether we call them idioms, colloquialisms, or odd expressions, they load the English language with terms that confound teachers and learners alike.  The more they are repeated and used publicly, the more idioms are likely to take root in our psyche and become a shortcut for deceptive meanings.  

Simply defined, an idiom is a phrase whose meaning is hard to predict from its parts. It cannot be taken literally.  Say you are an English language learner and I tell you I am sick as a dog.  This phrase comes from the 17^th century, but as a “newbie” to English, you might wonder why this is so bad.  Actually, dogs are known for vomiting frequently.  If I tell you this means being under the weather, meanings grow even more confusing.  Maybe I am just trying to escape bad weather because it is raining cats and dogs.  Or maybe I could be cured by some hair of the dog, also known as alcohol.  

Where do we find idioms?  Largely in everyday or colloquial conversations.  Their mates are slang, contractions, and profanity.  Despite never taking Latin in school (wish I had), and failing dismally at crossword puzzles, I really enjoy idioms.  Recently I made a list of those I use frequently.  I kept a cell phone recorder nearby because they disappear into “thin air” (yet another idiom). 

A review of the list surprised me.  Animal references are favorites.  My summer is filled with dog days, often I am dog tired, perhaps because I get up at sparrow’s fart (really early, thanks to the British).  Doggonit, I will always believe in puppy love, and I find it is never too late to teach an old dog new tricks.

 Efforts like this make me sweat like a stuck pig.  Still, I sleep as snug as a bug in a rug and never let bed bugs bite.   I regard despicable people as lower than whale waste.  I prefer to avoid those whose mouths run like a whippoorwill’s butt, preferring not to meet them in a dog’s age.  Lately, when I wash my hands of problems, I am likely to utter under my breath, “Not my circus, not my monkeys”. Sometimes caught between a rock and a hard place, or not seeing the forest through the trees, I decide there is more than one way to skin a cat.  

Living here in western New York, I belabor the weather.  Favorite idioms come from my dad who was an inveterate coastal fisherman.  Good weather could be predicted from the sailor’s delight of a red sky at night. However, the same in the morning always meant that sailors should take warning.  And “mackerel sky, not long wet nor yet long dry” predicts changeable conditions, which can include fog “thick a blue dungeon.”

Two of the more colorful expressions cemented into my memory come my Air Force experience teaching English in Vietnam. A Louisiana bunk mate used to crack me up when he complained, “That is harder than stuffing a pad of butter up a wildcat’s butt with a hot knitting needle.” On another occasion our commanding officer drove our jeep barely under the landing gear of an incoming C-123.  As we breathed a sign of relief, he turned and said, “Well, no guts no glory.”  I still use that idiom in hairy situations.

I fall back on language from the Bible all the time, thanks to my dad’s religious upbringing.  I find myself advising:  ask and ye shall receive; as ye sew so shall ye reap; there but for the grace of God go I.; and let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

Certain life style expressions have become idioms of choice in my household.  Included are:  persistence always triumphs; what goes around comes around; first paint the target, then shoot the arrow; cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face; the horse is out of the barn; and if wishes were horses then beggars would ride. And when something really puzzles us, for some reason we say, “No kidding Dick Tracy!” 

Our idioms tell volumes about our origins, what we read or see on tv, and the people who have influenced us.  I suggest you draw up a list and share it with your relatives and friends.  You might find yourself moon struck or gob smacked at the end of the day.    

Adventures on the Country Roads of Italy

Adventures on the Country Roads of Italy  

By Jeffrey M. Bowen

One of the best ways to learn when traveling is to make comparisons.  It gives us firsthand knowledge.   We can learn about other places and civilizations by exercising all of our senses.  Because our own lives are a reference point, we can learn a tremendous amount about ourselves at the same time.  If we stay open-minded, feel safe, and avoid political opinions, international travel can be vitalizing and fun.  A recent bus tour of both city and country locations in Italy certainly gave my wife Hillary and me a unique appreciation of its deep history and sheer beauty.    

Our jaunt included 35 adventurous seniors from several countries.   Jackie, our tour director, is bilingual and passionate about all things Italian.  The bus ride alone was a continuous listening and learning experience.  We also enjoyed local guides who enriched our days with unique historical descriptions and anecdotes.  We hiked over miles of cobblestones and up and down stairs.  In the evening, after a couple of eight-course dinners lubricated by local wines, our tour group bonded over vintage rock and roll music.  

 My purpose here is to make a few simple comparisons with our home country.  First, consider the landscape.  It seems hard to believe that forests cover about one third of both the United States and Italy.  Our impression was that every available acre of Italian country is planted with olive and fruit trees, wheat and maize, and endless rows of grape vines. Volcanic soil is perfect for agriculture.

Cities like Rome and Florence have been built on the accretions of previous inhabitants over thousands of years.  In Tuscany and Umbria, hill towns built on volcanic tuff perch above high walls that may conceal caves and parts of ancient neighborhoods.  Pompeii, an entire city frozen in 79 AD by volcanic ash from Mt. Vesuvius, has no American equivalent.       

 Italy is geographically narrow and long while the U.S. sprawls in every direction.  Old and permanent, Italian landmarks are built from bricks covered with mortar.  Perhaps this is because the Romans, borrowing from their predecessors, invented bricks, made narrow walkways from basalt (volcanic rock) that lasts forever, and clustered their towns to protect against historical enemies.  Related factors may be the centralizing feature of cathedrals as well as the communal style of life around piazzas. The splendor of Christianity is enshrined in architectural masterpieces.

 By way of contrast, American towns and homes seem much newer given our short history, use of flammable wood as building material, huge land mass, and our restless mobility.  Americans and Italians are marvelous architects, but ancient Romans mastered the mechanics in ways we still copy.  Prompted partly by the need to move and house large armies, the Romans constructed straight roads, aqueducts, and municipal buildings with extraordinary efficiency.     

Trying to compare Italians and Americans based on a tourist view is a challenge. We certainly noticed that Italian service folks were patient, courteous, and spoke basic English.  When they do speak Italian, their words seem to roll out like an animated avalanche, typically punctuated by hand gestures.  As for style, Italians have a distinctive flair.  They cherish colorful traditions, stylish garb, and superb craftsmanship. 

 Italian road vehicles and driving habits contrast with ours, not so much on their “strada principali” but on city streets and on winding country roads.  Tiny compact cars and motorbikes weave down narrow roads, overlook traffic laws, and cram into every available parking space.  Busses seem to fit easily around tight corners because of wheels that turn at right angles.   Our bus driver Enzo adeptly navigated torturous roads clinging to sea cliffs so we chipped in and purchased a Ferrari driving experience for him when we visited the factory and museum.  

 We found Italian food delightfully fresh and varied, not spicy at all, supplied by nearby farm markets.  Multi-course dinners included antipasti, a typical first course of pasta, then vegetables and meats.  Pizza is sort of a gesture for tourists. The best desserts are found at corner gelato nooks.  We were told that real Italian gelato contains no fat, is not inflated with air, and is made from wholly organic ingredients.  Thus I gained some pounds, while also learning to appreciate abundant wines which are intended to be consumed with food.  

Many of our misconceptions disappeared as we traveled.  For instance, Venetian canals are mostly fresh and clean.  The Verona balcony where Romeo and Juliet allegedly declared their vows may be a tourist attraction, but Shakespeare invented it.  And the white that we saw on distant mountains is not snow, but rather carrara marble quarried today in Tuscany as it was in the days of Michelangelo.

Finally, something called “campanilismo” is probably the most vital ingredient of Italian life.  Remember, for most of its history Italy was anything but unified, so a positive provincialism still thrives.  An American parallel might be the traditional small town that deeply appreciates its heritage.  In Italian communities, you can feel it in well preserved city centers, old cafes, nearby churches, clean streets, and the friendly rhythms of life around the municipal bell towers.

 Throughout our trip, we realized that each separate region of the country rivals the art, history, and civilization of entire nations elsewhere.  No other country in the world has 53 world heritage sites.  Now we know why.  We want to return.