A LITTLE THISA AND A LITTLE THATA


Those of you with prodigious memories may recall that in 2009 there were three essays appearing in this space.  All of them had to do with Ben Bernie, the orchestra leader of the 1930s, 1940s and ‘50s.  When Ben Bernie led his orchestra through a medley of songs, he would often introduce it as “a little bit of thisa and a little bit of thata.”  You may also recall that Ben Bernie, who was a very popular fellow, would indicate approval of his orchestra’s performance by saying, “Yowsa, yowsa, yowsa.”
This essay is a collection of thoughts which probably do not merit a full essay.  The thoughts themselves are meritorious but they do not contain the heft and the significance of a full essay.  But I will try them on you in the hope that at the end you will say, “Yowsa, yowsa, yowsa.”
 
The first of these individual thoughts has to do with a term that is spoken generally by members of the Air Force.  It is the term, “roger.”  I served in the United States Army Air Force from 1942 to 1945.  Air crews generally use the term “roger.”  But now nearly 70 years later, I thought it would be a good idea to find out what “roger” meant.
Why that term of “roger” is used in the Air Force remains a mystery to me and to others who also flew.  But nonetheless, the term “roger” is meant to say to the speaker, “Your message has been received and understood.”  In the Air Force, messages tended to be terse ones.  There was no gabbing about girls or the insignificance of the commanding officer.  Messages were brief and were acknowledged by using the term “roger.”
There was an occasion when a crew of four of us brought home the oldest aircraft in the European theater.  There was a pilot, a copilot, a radio operator, and myself as the crew chief.  When we finally reached Natal, in Brazil, after the flight over the South Atlantic Ocean, we retired for the night, only to find in the morning that our airplane contained a worn engine to be taken to Akron, Ohio.  But this was war time and we understood those things, so we detoured on our trip.
After we left the engine at Warner Robins Field in Akron, Ohio, we flew southwest to San Antonio, Texas.  The Douglas Corporation had manufactured this airplane and it had delivered super service since 1935.  When we reached San Antonio, there was some confusion in that there were three landing fields nearly back to back.  This was a monument to Sam Rayburn, the Speaker of the House, who had procured these installations for Texas, his home state.
The pilot was given instructions from the tower to land on, let us say, 22 East.  As we made our final approach, the tower was practically screaming that we were landing at the wrong airport.  Apparently with three airports nearly back to back, this was not an unusual occurrence.  When the pilot received the message, he pulled up the aircraft and we made another turn.  On this occasion we landed at the proper airport.  But Sam Rayburn, the Speaker of the House, had nearly gotten us into serious trouble.
The point is we were saying “roger” in radio transmissions, but we had misunderstood which field they wanted us to land on.  But in the end we received and understood the message to land at the proper airport.
I am sorry to be so uninformative about the use of the term “roger” but I feel better because I have relieved my soul of this duty to tell the world what “roger” means.  I am unsure as to whether the Air Force still uses “roger” but I suspect that some 70 years later it is still in common usage.
 
So with that, we will proceed to the next story about thisa and thata.
The second essay has to do with the plethora of names that Americans use to designate their bathrooms.  My very limited research suggests that the word “john” is the leading euphemism for designating the bathroom.  While it is the leading euphemism for designating the bathroom, it has a close competitor in the use of the word “can.”  If I may recall my army experiences of years ago, the use of the word “can” probably exceeded the use of the word “john.”  Those who served in the American Navy will recall that the commode was called the “head.”  I did not serve in the American Navy so I am at a loss to tell you why it is called the “head.”
For some reason the American Army uses the term “latrine” to designate its bathrooms.  Latrine seems to me to be a French word, but nonetheless it is widely understood in the armed forces of the army that  “latrine” is the accepted term, which is blessed by the higher authorities in the American Army that all of us should salute that march off to use the “latrine.”
There was an occasion when I took a director of advertising in the Long Lines Department as well as a vice president of the advertising agency on a trip to Italy and Israel.  The advertising agency was N.W. Ayer.  When it came time for a break in the proceedings, Jake Habberfeld was in charge for the Israeli side of the arrangements.  Jake was the most gentlemanly of all of the contacts that I had overseas.  When Kim Armstrong, the director of advertising for Long Lines, indicated that she was unsure of where to go for this break, Jake Habberfeld stepped into the void.  Jake said, “Would you like directions to that certain place?”  Jake was a gentleman par excellence.  I had never heard the use of “that certain place” for this situation but when Jake Habberfeld used that term, it had my complete acceptance.  And with that thought about the euphemisms for bathrooms, we will then proceed with another matter having to do with thisa and thata.
 
The next thisa and thata has to do with lovemaking.  My parents were strict conservatives in the matter of lovemaking, which is to say that they never discussed it.  There was one occasion when I suggested to my mother that the word “sparking” had to do with lovemaking.  My mother was born in 1882 but she indicated that the word “sparking” had gone out of style some years ago.  I suppose that the proper replacement for “sparking” would be “necking.”  If any of the readers who have parsed these words can produce a better word than “sparking,” it will be a welcome addition.
 
At this point, I would like to turn to political matters.  Much has been made of the fact that in his appointments to the cabinet, Mr. Obama seems to have found more white males to name to the cabinet.  I do not believe that every racial group or gender is entitled to be represented in the cabinet.  It is my best view that the best person ought to be named to lead the department.
For some years, it has been assumed that Susan Rice, the Ambassador of the US to the United Nations, would assume the title of Secretary of State once Hillary Clinton retired.  When her name was floated a month or thereabouts ago, Lindsey Graham and John McCain said that she would have a rough time gaining confirmation for the Secretary of State job.  One of the characteristics of Barack Obama is that he backs down and will not fight for his nominees.  The head of the steel workers once said of Mr. Obama that he is “a poet and not a fighter.”  Susan Rice endured about three weeks or a month of speculation and it became clear that Obama did not intend to fight for her.  So she withdrew.  I do not know much about Susan Rice’s qualifications but she comes with a reputation for having sharp elbows.   It strikes me that a person with sharp elbows would not be a bad choice for leading our diplomatic efforts abroad.  While I do not know Susan Rice very well, I regret the fact that her name was floated so prominently and that the President, Mr. Obama, elected not to fight for her.
This may cast a shadow on Chuck Hagel, the man designated by Mr. Obama as his new Secretary of Defense.  Obama backs down to the likes of John McCain and Lindsey Graham.  I intend to write to Obama a note praising him for his pusillanimity.
 
Now we proceed from pusillanimity to falling.  My most recent adventures in falling resulted in no broken bones, for which I am thankful, but did call to mind some 19th century expressions for pain.  Specifically, in trying to get up from this latest fall, my leg became twisted.  For three weeks or so, I had the definition of “all stove up.”  The description of “stove up” was immediately recognizable by my parents’ generation.  It has been many years since I have heard the words “stove up” entering into conversations.  Certainly it is never used by television announcers to describe soreness or discomfort.  So herewith I start a campaign to preserve the words “all stove up” as a national monument to those of us who get our legs twisted and our backs out of line.
 
Finally it seems to me appropriate to say a few words having to do with wounded animals.  I am well aware of the fact that a good many men cite their skill in hunting as evidence of their masculinity.  But if you will pardon an intercession on behalf of the animals, I would like to say a few words.  Men who go hunting have no real reason to do so because of hunger.   The population in this country is well fed to the point of obesity.  So we are left with the thought that men hunt for “sport.”  This is a one-sided sport where the evidence is all on the side of the hunter.
Let us take Antonin Scalia, the Supreme Court Justice, who loves to hunt birds.  I have no use for Antonin Scalia because he intervened in 2000 to give us nothing less than George W. Bush when he decided that the tally count in Florida had gone far enough.  As any person associated with flying will tell you, the take off is the crucial concern when it comes to aerial flight.  Birds who are disturbed tend to flutter and cluster in an effort to gain altitude to run away from the hunter.  It is at this particular moment that Scalia and the rest of the hunters pull the trigger.  If this was a fair fight – which it is not – the birds would have a means of retaliating against the hunters, including Scalia.  The fact of the matter is that the birds are defenseless against the hunter, who has a high-powered shotgun to knock them down and kill them.
In all of the games that we play in this country, there is always a defense and an offense.  Let us take the issue of basketball.  If one of the teams scores a goal, the ball then belongs to the other team to see whether it can score a goal.  In terms of American football, a touchdown is scored and the ball is then awarded to the other team to see whether it can score or not.   In baseball, each team has the opportunity to go on offense when the other team is on defense.  This is the essence of sportsmanship.  When Scalia and all of the other hunters, using their high-powered shotguns or perhaps rifles go to work, it is nothing but a miscarriage of justice.  There is no sport involved here.
I repeat that there is no reason for going hunting to kill innocent animals.  But I am far behind the times and I suggest that hunting seems to be well ingrained in the American spirit of sportsmanship.  In the final analysis, it seems to me that when one side is armed with nothing but cunning and speed and the other side has a high-powered rifle or shotgun, there is no contest whatsoever.  But if you wish to keep score here, mark me down on the side of sparing defenseless animals.
I have never owned a gun.  During the Second World War, the American Army loaned me a gun which had to be returned as soon as my service was curtailed.  Aside from that incident, I have never owned a gun and I never plan to own a gun.  It seems to me that my fellow Americans are distraught at having an administration that does not encourage the use of firepower.
 
You will notice that in this essay I have said nothing about the tragedy of the killing of 20 schoolchildren in Newtown, Connecticut.  That is a subject for another debate.  At this point I am so distraught that even after a month has passed I have no stomach for addressing the events at Newtown.
There you have a collection of thisas and thatas.  These are in harmony with old Ben Bernie’s orchestra which would play a medley of foxtrots, waltzes or swing ballads or whatever, with the idea that by the end of the medley you would have heard a little bit of everything.  So I leave you with the hope that you will say, in accordance with Ben Bernie, “Yowsa, yowsa, yowsa.”
 
E. E. CARR
January 11, 2013
Essay 732
~~~
Kevin’s commentary: This one was quite the multi-essay. With so many posts about language especially I feel like I should at some point make a separate dictionary, of words and phrases that Pop has called to special attention in his essays.
The one that really stuck out to me this time was hunting, for a few reasons. I saw a video recently where a guy in Africa hunted an antelope or something by running it down. Turns out humans are really good at distance running, and animals aren’t, so he just chased after this animal for like eight or so hours until it finally had a heat stroke and collapsed. Was crazy to watch… but the reason it comes to mind here is that it was a fair fight. Whoever could run farther would win. It’s about as far from what is now ‘normal’ hunting as is possible, though.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *