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My synecdoche is acting up

January 26, 2010 by Beth

No one really asked for more rhetorical devices, but I’m on a roll. Here are four more of my favorites:

To use metallage (“Meh-TALL-uh-gee”) is to use a word or phrase as an object in a sentence. I’m going to go all “Pulp Fiction” on you and mention that scene with the Gimp. Marcellus Wallace (Ving Rhames) says, “You hear me talkin’, hillbilly boy? I ain’t through with you by a damn sight. I’ma get medieval on your ass.”

In that same vein, periphrasis (“Per-IF-ruh-sis”) uses a description as a name. Think Harry Potter and “He Who Shall Not Be Named.” And I’d better not hear Eddie refer to me as “The Old Ball and Chain.” Or “Fat Ass,” for that matter.

Two more devices — metonymy and synecdoche — seem to be difficult for many people to understand, and there are plenty who say they are the same. They are not.

Metonymy (“Meh-TAH-no-mee”) refers to describing something indirectly by using similar items. For example, you can say “the deep” when you are talking about the ocean.

Synecdoche (“Sin-ECK-doh-key”) swaps a thing for a collection of things, or a part for a whole. For example, the bank foreclosed on our neighbor’s house. The representatives of the bank did it, but it is easier to say “the bank.”

The difference between metonymy and synecdoche is this: When A is used to refer to B, it is a synecdoche if A is a component of B, and a metonym if A is commonly associated with B but not actually part of its whole. Representatives are part of a bank, therefore it is synecdoche. But the ocean is deep (deep water is like an ocean), so it is metonymy.

Got it? Good, ’cause I don’t wanna go all medieval on you.

Posted in Grammar, etc. | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment »

Hypophora? I hardly know her!

January 24, 2010 by Beth

When last I blogged, I mentioned “litotes,” a rhetorical device that is similar to a double negative. This device, pronounced “LIE-tuh-teez,” allows someone to make a point by denying the opposite. For example, if I said, all regal-like, “We are not amused,” you would understand that all is not well, and that you should perhaps vacate the scene.

There are loads of other devices. As soon as I point them out, you’ll start seeing them everywhere.

Take, for example, chiasmus (“Kie-AZ-mus”), a sentence that presents a mirror image of a concept. I often say that I work to live, not live to work, even though I do love my job.

Perhaps the most well-known chiasmus came from John F. Kennedy in his 1961 inaugural address: “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.”

Two other devices are similar: antithesis and anadiplosis. Antithesis establishes a clear, contrasting relationship between ideas. For example, original moonwalker Neil Armstrong said of the 1969 landing: “One small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”

Some examples of antithesis are chiastic, but not all. And if it is chiastic, then just call it a chiasmus. Antithesis = general contrast; chiasmus = specific mirroring.

Anadiplosis (“Anna-di-PLOH-sis”) goes one step further by repeating the last/first structure, but it is not a mirror. In “Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace” — a dreadful movie — Yoda said, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

Do you want to know more about rhetorical devices? Of course you do. And asking and answering a question is called hypophora (“High-PAH-for-uh”).

Posted in Grammar, etc. | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments »

Lawzy, Miss Scarlett!

January 23, 2010 by Beth

"I don't know nothing 'bout birthin' babies!"

I don’t know nothing ’bout grammar. That’s good, because I write a grammar blog. (Well, grammar and other things.)

You might ask, “Whatchoo talkin’ ’bout Willis?”

That, my friends, is a double negative. What I really said was, “I know something about grammar.”

Pink Floyd sang, “We don’t need no education,” but what they were really saying was, “We do need education” (whether they wanted to or not). The “not” in the contraction cancels out the “no,” resulting in a positive statement.

Usually people use the construction to indicate the opposite, though, like Prissy (Butterfly McQueen) in “Gone with the Wind“: “I don’t know nothing ’bout birthin’ babies!”

So Miss Scarlett was in luck. Yet she wasn’t. You see?

Similar to this concept is a rhetorical device called “litotes.” I’ll tackle that topic in an upcoming post.

Posted in Grammar, etc. | Tagged , , | 3 Comments »

My husband made me do it

January 22, 2010 by Beth

In 2005, when SCAD was considering offering a writing major, I thought to myself, “Self, it would be great to teach in that department.” Though I had oodles of work experience, I knew that SCAD’s accrediting body prefers terminal degrees in the field of instruction. So I had two choices: Get another M.F.A. (the one I have is in performing arts) or get a Ph.D. I chose the latter.

I had three criteria in mind as I researched programs: areas of study offered (journalism or communications), proximity and reputation. The one that fulfilled all these requirements was University of South Carolina.

Eddie badgered me to apply. “But that would require taking the GRE!” I whined. “And I’m pregnant!”

“So?” he said, with very little compassion, I might add.

Lest you think he is heartless, his philosophy was that I might as well get on it while the kids were very young. That way I would be done when they got old enough to start extracurricular activities that I wouldn’t want to miss.

I knew he was right. I forced myself to take the GRE and apply to the doctoral program in the USC School of Journalism and Mass Communications. I was accepted, and began coursework Fall 2006. The total courses involved for most folks: 16 (48 semester hours). For me: 18 (because my master’s is not in the specific area).

I finished the coursework in April 2009. I spent the summer procrastinating on my dissertation proposal, and dreading the comprehensive exams (four days, three hours a day of answering questions in four areas: theory, methods, ethics and rhetoric, which is my outside area). I passed the foreign language proficiency test in October (see related post). The comps dread continued.

The time came, though, for me to put up or shut up. I studied my haunches off in preparation for the comps, which I stupidly scheduled for the week after Thanksgiving. The 19 people in my house for the holiday might not have fully understood why I was so stressed out.

Along with the written comps, there is an oral defense. That happened today. After my committee slowly roasted me over an open fire for two hours, they decreed that I had passed. To be honest, the first 20 minutes were horrendous, but then the rest was fine. The discussion will help me hone my dissertation proposal, for sure.

And that is the next step. I defend said proposal in front of my committee Feb. 19. Once I pass (the power of positive thinking), I will work exclusively on my own research for my dissertation. Then I will have to defend my dissertation in front of the same committee. Thumbs up, and my hooding awaits. Thumbs down, and … well, that’s really not an option for me.

So if I look a little frazzled in February (and over the summer), you’ll know why.

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Rescue 911: The punctuation version

January 20, 2010 by Beth

Tonight I became “that person.” But I did what I had to do.

I couldn’t just sit there and let it continue to happen.

I answered the call. The call of the abused apostrophe.

Though I love, LOVE my children’s school, I am sometimes surprised by the notes that come home. Notes about “Dress-down Fridays” bothered me greatly. They bothered me because they advertised “Dress Down Friday’s.”

I could hear the abused apostrophe screaming.

I let it go, for a time.

But tonight in the PTO meeting, I heeded the call. The chair asked for corrections to the minutes. I saw my opportunity and took it. I begged him to allow Friday to be plural, not possessive. “Let the minutes reflect the change,” said the chair. And the apostrophe and I wept.

Afterward, a couple of other parents thanked me. And there was much rejoicing.

Posted in Grammar, etc. | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments »

Part V: Happily ever after

January 20, 2010 by Beth

… crickets … crickets … crickets …

Yes, I know the silence here has been deafening. I’ve got a good excuse: dissertation proposal. That is the cause of the many gray hairs I’ve found over the past few days. Seriously. My doctoral work is causing gray hair.

But back to the story.

SHE SAID:

Eddie and I officially started dating Sept. 27, 1994. Three months later, on Dec. 31, 1994, Eddie and I and our two friends, Alex and Brenon, headed to City Market to ring in the new year with a dropping peach and dropping drunks.

A few minutes to midnight, Alex and Brenon cleared a little spot in the melee and Eddie dropped to one knee and proposed. I was a little stunned, and was uncharacteristically quiet. Eddie said, “You have just a couple of minutes to say yes!” I did, of course.

HE SAID:

I thought she was going to begin another waiting game! Beth is never one to be short on words, but this day she did not say much. Dare I say, she was speechless.

SHE SAID:

While our families thought it was very sudden, our friends were not surprised at all and just wondered why it took so long. (Heidi, I’m talking about you.)

HE SAID:

Yeah, her friends were all on my side.

SHE SAID:

We got married in Forsyth Park Sept. 9, 1995. We deliberately chose an easy date to remember (9.9.95) because neither of us is good with remembering dates. This is why I have a journal.

HE SAID:

I loved having a rainbow wedding party.  All those guys have remained good friends through all these years. I can remember hugging Dad (Beth’s Dad) and we both had tears. I said, “I’ve always wanted a Dad.” He said, “I always wanted a son.” Dad has really been the dad I never had. He is an awesome person.

SHE SAID:

Ten years and many adventures later, we added Dominic to our family, followed by Gideon.

HE SAID:

It’s crazy how little things — such as writing about  how you met — can make you think about how great your partner is. This has been fun, and I can’t come close to telling everyone how Beth has changed my life. She took a character like me and made me a much better person. Now she gave me two awesome boys, and I can’t get enough of them. She is a great mom, which is number one on the list of her many great traits.

SHE SAID:

Our life together so far has been pretty great. And that’s an understatement.

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Part IV: The jig is up

January 13, 2010 by Beth

SHE SAID

During my six-month sentence, I dated a cowboy, a lawyer, an air conditioning repairman, a Hunter Army Air Field pilot, a hotel owner, two photographers and a police officer. There may have been others. (Lest you think I was ‘ho-ing it up, these were not those kind of dates.) I just went out with whoever asked. If it wasn’t fun, we didn’t go out again. It was kind of nice to be free.

It was also unfulfilling. After a night line-dancing at Stetson’s, a country bar (yes, bring on the jokes), I wrote this line in my journal: “Sometimes boys are just so yucky.”

HE SAID

I will make some comments later about some of these lads. Much to their dismay, we meet later on.

SHE SAID

The revelation finally came at a ZZ Top concert Sept. 27, 1994. I was there with the air conditioning repairman. I thought to myself, “Self, I would rather be at the dump with Eddie than here with this dude.” The repairman and I left, immediately had the “It’s not you; it’s me” talk, and then I dialed the hotline to Eddie. And that was that.

HE SAID

When Beth flashed the bat signal, I remember thinking “It’s about damn time!” However, I said “I’ll be right over.”

Beth and I did many fun things, even line dance (I got skills, yo!), once we got together. Bowling was one of those things (she is way better than I am). It just so happens that this was one of AC Man’s favorite hangouts. I did not call him AC Man, though. I called him Lat Man. “Why?” you may ask. This guy postured around the bowling alley as if he could not possibly put his arms to his sides. But it is hard to parade around when you’re only as tall as the person’s chest. He never made any moves toward Beth while I was there, so everything was cool. The kid was a good bowler, though.

I did not like the police officer at all. He was a slime ball. I think he knew I did not like him ’cause Beth and I went dancing one day and ended up at the  same place that he was. He skedaddled. He seemed like the kind of guy who liked to say he was a cop so that he could get the girls.

SHE SAID

But none of them mattered anymore. Three months later, we were engaged.

Up next: Happily ever after

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Part III: This is getting ridiculous

January 11, 2010 by Beth

When last we saw Beth and Eddie, Eddie had asked for permission from the president of the college to date Beth. Beth had said she would go out with him if he got permission. He did, and she didn’t.

SHE SAID

Yes, it was stupid. I know. I could have saved myself plenty of angst. The relationship with the reporter continued its death spiral until April 1994. He had moved out of town by this point and I was thinking of joining him. I even found a job. At the very last moment possible, the small voice of reason inside finally broke free (think Jojo’s “yop” from “Horton Hears a Who”). I backed out of the job, and the “relationship,” such as it was, dissolved.

This is where Beth gets her groove back, thanks to Eddie.

I switched from PR at SCAD to reporting at a local television station. Like a true multitasker, I also started doing weather on Sundays, and serving as a DJ for the country station connected to the TV station. Free concert tickets — woohoo! I hadn’t previously been a country music fan, but that all changed during my tenure as K.C. Quinn. (I couldn’t use my real name, of course, because I was a reporter and that would be weird. I wanted to be called Moonpie Jones, but they wouldn’t let me.)

After the breakup, I quickly took up with another reporter in town, but was considering other options.

HE SAID

I am not sure, but I think she is talking here about the man with the concaved chest I referred to as “Stick Figure.”

SHE SAID

I had a chance to go to the Sawyer Brown/Tim McGraw/Diamond Rio concert, and I decided to take Eddie. We had begun chatting quite regularly at this point, but it was all strictly platonic.

HE SAID

I couldn’t believe she finally called me to ask for a date. “A country concert? I’m sure I’ll find lots of lively Puerto Ricans there,” I thought. But undeterred, I saw my chance and took it. I’d never been to a country concert. Sawyer who? Wasn’t he in a book? But it was Beth, so I went. I like all kinds of music, and I did have a good time.

SHE SAID

It was this night that Eddie informed me that I should lay off the dudes for six months, just date casually, and figure out what I really wanted. Bold, no?

HE SAID

It was all part of my master plan. The friend in me wanted her to stop trying to date people seriously for a while. The guy in me wanted her to continue her behavior and date me next. But she was never going to be happy until she figured out what she really wanted. And I was hoping it was me. You know, that whole “letting the bird go” thing.

SHE SAID

After the concert, I drove him home. If you are wondering why he never drove, it is because he had a craptastic Civic that barely fit one person, and it was always broken down. Sexy.

HE SAID

That’s why I walked a lot.

SHE SAID

In the parking lot of his apartment, we had our first kiss.

HE SAID

The kiss was very nice.

SHE SAID

But it was very short and sweet. He broke it off, and I said, “That’s it? I waited years for that?”

He said, “You played hard to get, and now it is my turn.”

I was hooked.

But I did what he said. For once.

Up next: The jig is up

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Chicken-terlude

January 10, 2010 by Beth

We interrupt the Beth and Eddie story with a brief word from our chicken.

Trish has not made an appearance in a while, either on this blog or in real life. It’s been too darn cold, and she has been holed up in her coop. I wanted to make sure she was OK, so I went out bearing a seed treat for her. She charged out of her coop and flew up onto my arm like some kind of parrot.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled blogging. Part III will appear tomorrow.

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Part II: The pursuit begins

January 9, 2010 by Beth

SHE SAID

While I remember the box incident clearly, I don’t remember anything else specifically about Eddie for a little while. I had a lot going on.

My three-year relationship with my college boyfriend was tanking because of the four-hour distance between Savannah and Atlanta. Well, that and because I was beginning a dalliance with a particular television reporter in Savannah. The boyfriend and I parted ways (relatively amicably, I thought, yet apparently not as he refuses to be my Facebook friend). Serial monogamist that I was, I started seriously dating the reporter.

HE SAID

I remember this boyfriend; he seemed very “Oh well! Que sera, sera.” I met this little guy, and I like him. It’s a bit sad he doesn’t want to be friends with Beth. If we went our separate ways, I would always want to be friends with Beth. If you can understand her, she is a great and loyal friend. She continues to be friends with people — yes, even guys — who I don’t think are worthy of her friendship. So he is making a bad choice.

SHE SAID

Eddie first appears in my journal in the Sept. 4, 1992, entry. I went to Malone’s (now Wild Wing Café) with my best girl friend and her friend, and ran into Eddie: “We told each other our life stories and then I drove him home.”

I wish I could go back in time and slap around the person I was. The reporter and I should have dated for about a month, but the soap opera dragged on for well over a year. It seems so clear now that I had no business being with someone about whom I wrote journal entries such as “We were arguing in line at Dumbo” and “The evening turned sour when I realized how unwilling he is to do the things I think are fun.”

HE SAID

I remember said evening at Malone’s. I also remember thinking, “Aaaw shiiit — she can dance too!” And I remember the reporter dude. I knew right away he really didn’t care that much about her. So I really didn’t care if he saw me talking to his girl. He cared more about going golfing than spending the day with his girlfriend. Fine with me! And thank you, kind sir! Don’t mind if I do step right on in here and steal your girlfriend.

I assure you my friends, if a man tried the things I tried in front of my face, there would be consequences.

SHE SAID

Anyway, there was a point where I was almost smart enough to ditch the reporter. Back to the journal, Jan. 10, 1993: “I went to the SCAD/Millsaps basketball game … at the game, Eddie asked me out again. He looked quite alluring, but I resisted.” And here’s one from Jan. 19, 1993: “Eddie is becoming increasingly hard to resist.” Apparently, he said to me on that day, “Let’s get married.”

Part of my resistance to Eddie had to do with the fact that he was a full-time student at SCAD in addition to being a full-time employee. Faculty and staff were/are prohibited from fraternizing with students, and I tend to be a stickler for the rules.

On Feb. 17, 1993, I wrote, “I can’t stop thinking about Eddie now. He came by today and said he was going to get permission from Richard (Rowan, the SCAD president at the time) to date me. If he does, I will.”

Well, he did, and I didn’t. Even after a permission-conveying phone call from my boss, the (amused) executive vice president, it took another 14 months for us to go on our first official date.

HE SAID

Readers, readers, readers — fear not! I  am a persistent man. Yes, I could have said “Well, later for you then, girl” but I knew she was special. If a woman can be that loyal to guys who treat her like crap, imagine what she’ll do for a man who thinks she’s great!

Up next: The first date

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