It never fails. I win the bet every time but will never win again once people catch on. It’s simple: I like to tell people that they cannot correctly count backwards from 10 to 1. I add that somewhere in the middle numbers there’ll be an inadvertent tangue-toungler to cause them to flub.

Instinctively, they rattle off “10, 9, 8, 7…” and immediately I cut them off with, “You messed up.”

Why? Well, because they didn’t follow directions. If their job is to “count from 10 to 1 backwards, that means they need to follow the 1, 2, 3 sequence.

It’s really a silly little trick, one that has made me so wealthy I’m building a dozen retirement cottages in Pendaries. Well, maybe just a pup tent in my backyard.

It’s the same kind of confidence I exuded when reacting to an e-mail from Joann Martinez, the former Carnegie librarian. The message asks us to pronounce certain words correctly the first time.

I was up for the challenge, and to keep things honest, recorded myself.

Try it yourself: Continue reading →

Math anxiety is a term universally understood as the condition in which a student freezes up or manifests other anxiety symptoms such as dizziness, sweaty palms, nausea, headaches or fatigue during consideration or before taking an examination on fractions decimals or algebra.

Interesting that one doesn’t hear much about grammar anxiety or history anxiety or various other anxieties. Many colleges, including Highlands, routinely offer sessions on coping with math anxiety.

Math anxiety must never be confused with or compared to writer’s block, an affliction what latches on only to graduate students. It’s characterized by days of waiting for inspiration for that all-American composition and features wastebaskets full of crumpled paper untimely ripped out of the typewriter. A modern-day version of writer’s block includes White-Out on the laptop screen. Continue reading →

In discussing communication with a friend, a counterpart, from another newspaper, I learned that the content of the paper is what you say, whereas the typography — type fonts, sizes, styles, etc. — is how you say it.

Well, that’s brilliant. In many years in this business, I’d never thought of it that way. Any article, even one about something dull, has its own content, but if spiced up with flashy headlines, it becomes something else.

That led to the question of “It’s not what you say, but how you say it.” We can say “I love you” in such a sneering, venomous way that the lovee has no choice but to say, “It’s not what you say, but …” By the same token, we can say anything in a kind way and get a conflicting message across. Tone of voice counts. And it works with animals as well — maybe even better.

We tried this with my son Diego’s Rhodesian ridgeback, Zeus: Instead of “Here, nice puppy,” we called him a cow but said it sweetly, whereupon he transferred himself from the carpet to my lap. Try it sometime, but preferably with a dog weighing less than 75 pounds.

Back to people: Continue reading →

Men don’t get a fair break in popular culture. Notice the comic books of old, the Turner Classic Movies comedies, even today’s sitcoms: Most of them show men — incorrectly — as inept, overweight, bumbling, pathetic creatures ever in need of a woman’s guidance.

The hardest my wife Bonnie ever laughs is when watching a movie such as “The Big Lebowski,” with Jeff Bridges, in which there’s a lot of he-man posturing but little action. If women had been in that situation, Bonnie — and virtually all women — would believe, the situation would have been handled differently. Continue reading →

“You people at the Optic are so-oo negative. Why don’t you print something positive for a change?” We’ve heard that many times. So, in an effort to out Pollyanna myself, I herewith attempt some positive stuff. It’s a wonderful, helpful and expensive message board that lights up Mills Avenue near Robertson High School. It’s an electronic, digital sign that flashes announcements and gives the time and temperature.

In the olden days, when analog was the norm, we could say about downtown clocks that hadn’t operated in years, “Well, on the positive side, at least a stopped clock is correct twice a day.”

But what about digital clocks? Usually then they’re on the fritz, they’re simply turned off. But the digital clock on Mills has been locked at 8:27 for days, possibly not able to adapt to Daylight Savings Time. So, in a negative vein, we could say the clock is wrong 1,438 times a day, but it’s more positive to say it’s correct two times a day, once in the evening, once in the morning.

But wait. My clock-watching task force just informed me that, unlike the analog counterpart, the stalled digital clock also shows “p.m.” So that means it’s correct only once a day. Sorry, but I tried to be positive on this one. Continue reading →

Something happens when people turn 80. In the case of my parents, for example, age 80 was the time they begin to lose bone and muscle mass. They simply became smaller people.

Continue reading →

Over the past 42 years, as I’ve switched hats from journalism teacher to English teacher, I’m often asked, “What the difference?”Ah, but citing the differences would cover several columns. For now, the important distinctions are in the audience: For the most part, assignments given in English/composition classes end at the teacher’s desk; in journalism classes, the goal is publication, before a larger audience.So it is with letters to the editor, possibly the most popular feature in the daily press. As copy editor, I get to field most of the submissions, and I’ve become aware of many repeated features, including extreme length. Overall operation of the editorial page, however, rests with Tom McDonald, editor and publisher.

Some people expect us to do the research for them. Some letters — particularly from schools — omit first names, as students use Mr., Ms. or Mrs. We then call the writers, asking them to provide the given names, or we go to the phonebook. Continue reading →

“Want to know what a ‘sapo’ is? It’s the New York Giants beating the New England Patriots” in the recent Super Bowl. “See how that guy caught the ball on his helmet?” The emphatic utterer of this sapo-istry was Ron Maestas, professor, coach, referee and athlete. Of course, he was referring also to a recent column on sapos, and of this month’s Super Bowl. To review: Sapo means toad, but around here, we call a sapo any lucky shot, regardless of sport. The amazing thing about this part of northern New Mexico sapodom is that the word refers only to the other guys, not to ourselves.Thus, if my grandson and namesake sinks an all-net basket from 25 feet out, that’s a sapo. If I do it, it’s skill.

Ron made his statement as I huffed and puffed on a treadmill at the Abe Montoya Rec Center. I’ve had time to assess his assessment, so here goes: Continue reading →

As long as the language is English, it’s likely that what one thinks he heard will be far different from what gets written. Let me explain:A former student editor of mine wrote that his mother had just completed her kemo-therapy regime (regime should be regimen, but that’s a topic for a future column).

The chemo prefix comes from the word chemistry or chemical. But why give it a “k” sound when we have many perfectly good words that begin with “ch” and sound like it: cheese, chair, chum? When the editor wrote kemo-therapy, I imagined Tonto, the Lone Ranger’s faithful Indian companion, comforting the masked man with, “You’ll be OK after I suck the rattlesnake venom out of your ankle, Kemo-sabe.” Continue reading →

“With all the bragging people do nowadays about gas mileage, I do what others do to guarantee great mileage.”

And what is that?

“I lie about it.” Sometimes I claim fantastic automotive efficiency, when in reality, the kind of mileage I usually get can be measured in gallons per mile.

We’ve known people who couldn’t stand for anyone to be one up. And our enjoyment comes in planting a mythical number or amount and watching someone try to top it.

The first person is at an obvious disadvantage because all the second person needs to do is raise the figure.

For example, years back, my neighbor in Cuba, N.M., had just bought a new ‘72 AMC Gremlin, like ours. He asked what kind of mileage I got. “About 24 miles a gallon.” Continue reading →