[lit-ideas] Re: Bragging Rights Are Bragging Rites
- From: David Ritchie <ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sun, 5 Aug 2007 22:38:38 -0700
On Aug 5, 2007, at 7:30 PM, Julie Krueger wrote:
You know you daren't blink around here, Ritchie.
Julie Krueger
trying to distract herself after having poured boiling (literally) water down her leg in an attempt to kill bugs in the outdoor trash barrel.
ok, ok, I know.
On 8/5/07, John McCreery <john.mccreery@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:ritchierd@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
>
ligion. Blame Ritchie if you thought it tacky of me.
> >
>
> I go away for two minutes and what happens? Five ton sack of blame
> greets me on the doorstep.
>
A very proper dour Scot's response that.
I have a new expression for you all. In the Orange County hotel where the U.S. inter-regional competition was being held, I pressed the elevator button on floor twelve and when the doors opened was confronted by a packed bulge of people, all holding those huge wine glasses which, in California, justify an equally huge per glass charge. I stepped in and only when we were on the move did it occur to me that I might have broken a Rule, for these folk were all talking in the language of my native land; they were Judges, imported from Scotland because American judges cannot be seen to be impartial when settling the question of who are the best American Highland dancers.
The Rule is that competitors not only cannot have intercourse with Judges; they must not be seen in said company. Here I was, accidentally confined in close confines with the elect few, many of whom seemed to be a few sheets to the wind. I decided that a closed mouth might be the order of the day. So I listened...and picked up a new expression..."Dinna fash."
"Dinna fash yersel'" means "don't worry," or "don't get your knickers in a twist." The new and shortened version was, it seemed to me, an attempt to accommodate to "cool" or "hang loose" and all the expressions surrounding surfing culture.
So when I saw that ten ton bag of blame crowding my stoop, what did I say to myself?
"Self," I said, "dinna fash."
And so I didn't.
David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon
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