Hale, Mary, Fuller, Grace

Sometimes it’s easy to identify with Gen. Halftrack, the forlorn company commander in the Beetle Bailey comic strip, who laments never receiving mail from the Pentagon.

On occasion, I receive no feedback to items in Work of Art. But last week, there was an avalanche. A number of people e-mailed with comments about the alumni/ alumnus matter and solved a dozen common expressions which had been put into high-falutin’ language.

All the responses came via e-mail, except for Betty Quick, who was quick to hand-deliver some of her own creations, listed below.

These are the people who wrote:

Susan Mossman, Maridell Monheimer, Liz Conescu, Louise Drlik, Dorothy Maestas, Chad Boliek, Randy Barren, Barbara Dorris, Jeannette Yara, Betty Quick and a amazingly shy 1964 alumna of Highlands who asked me not to use her name.

Quite welcome were some of the comments. Jeannette Yara, for example, identified herself as a Highlands alumna (not alumni or alumnus), and Barbara Dorris signed off as “a Highlands alumna (former student who also graduated).” Chad Boliek must have been taking careful notes on the alumni/alumnus issue, as he signed with, “Alumnus Universitatis California Australus.”

Here are some assorted comments from readers:

Randy Barren: “If I have multiple personalities and we went to different schools, can I be alumni then? But not from any one school? I’m so confused. I’ll have to consult some compendia of linguistically factoidal content.”

Barren added, “Regarding Des Moines, I had always heard the name had to do with the local Indian mounds. I had never looked up the French “moines” until now. But I did find a third possibility that I think you might find amusing.”

Two theories refer to the capital of Iowa’s name as pertaining to a group of monks who lived in the area, and to the name of a nearby mound. The third theory, not likely to please chamber-of-commerce-type Buckeyes, posits that members of the Peoria tribe sought to pull the leg of explorer Jacques Marquette by using an Indian term that means, well, “excrement-faces.”

Dorothy Maestas: “These are too obvious and too easy! I solved them in five minutes.”

Dorothy also implied she should get special consideration in spite of being about the seventh person to submit an entry. She worked from a hard copy of the Optic and argues that “I didn’t get my paper until late in the afternoon.”

Sisterhood for this alumna does not bestow any special favors, so even if I am her (much younger) brother, I won’t award her a trophy.

Susan Mossman, whose e-mail arrived first, submitted “Look before you speak” as one of the answers. The original version was “Surveillance should precede saltations.” Before the final proofreading, I had taken the word to be “salutations,” not “saltations.” However, saltation is an archaic word for “leaping or jumping.” We learned something.

Liz Conescu wrote that folks at the local soup kitchen took the solving game farther, with the result that Liz needed to sing a song, in lofty language, “that only two people knew.”

The song:

“Indicate the route to my habitual abode, I’m fatigued and I wish to retire.

“Oh, I had a shifty-nify sixty minutes ago and it went right to my cerebellum.

“Wherever I may perambulate — over land or sea or atmospheric phosphorate —

“You will always hear me croonin’ this melody:

“Indicate the route to my habitual abode.”

Betty Quick added to my dozen sentences, three of which you are invited to decipher:

1. Big strong deciduous or evergreen woody plants of the genus Quercus have their source in minuscule fruit.
2. How the slender shoot of a long-lived plant is forced to deviate from a straight line determines the final configuration of the shoot when it becomes mature.
3. The fruit made famous by Eve does not land on the ground in the next county but rather lands contiguous to or very close to its source.
4. No beneficial action inspired by humanitarian intent escapes the infliction of a penalty.
   Can anyone translate Betty Quick’s submissions and identify the song that helped Liz Conescu bring down the soup kitchen?

• • •

Last week’s answers:

1. Twinkle twinkle little star.
2. Birds of a feather flock together.
3. Look before you leap.
4. Beauty is only skin deep.
5. Don’t cry over spilled milk.
6. Cleanliness is next to Godliness.
7. The pen is mightier than the sword.
8. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
9. Spare the rod; spoil the child.
10. A watched pot never boils.
11. All that glitters is not gold.
12. Where there’s smoke there’s fire.

• • •

A friend e-mailed me a list of likely mergers, given the state of the economy. Many seem plausible:

1. Hale Business Systems, Mary Kay Cosmetics, Fuller Brush and W. R. Grace Co. will merge and become Hale, Mary, Fuller, Grace.
2. Polygram Records, Warner Bros., and Zesta Crackers join forces and become Poly, Warner Cracker.
3. 3M will merge with Goodyear and become MMM-Good.
4. Zippo Manufacturing, Audi Motors, Dofasco, and Dakota Mining will merge and become ZipAudiDoDa.
5. FedEx is expected to join its competitor, UPS, and become FedUP.
6. Fairchild Electronics and Honeywell Computers will become Fairwell Honeychild.
7. Grey Poupon and Docker Pants are expected to become Poupon Pants.
8. Knotts Berry Farm and the National Organization of Women will become Knott NOW.