nancynall.com » What’s wrong with ‘hot?’

What’s wrong with ‘hot?’

A hol­i­day party invi­ta­tion that recently arrived at NN.C Cen­tral promised “pip­ing hot chili.” While I’m pleased that we won’t be hav­ing some­what hot chili, I had one of those moments you some­times get when you look at a word too long. That is: What the hell does “pip­ing” mean, anyway?

Pip­ing is what pipers do. It’s what plumbers install in your house. It’s the lit­tle row of cord or dec­o­ra­tive seam that runs along your sofa cush­ions, or down the leg of an usher’s trousers. Hmm, what else? Adjec­tives — The child spoke in a pip­ing voice. That is, he piped up. OK, like a flute. But how does some­thing very hot become pip­ing? (Richard Daw­son voice.) Dic­tio­nary SAYS?! “Because of the whistling sound made by very hot liq­uid or food.” Huh. In a teaket­tle, maybe. I’ve had casseroles that siz­zled a bit. But noth­ing that could be con­fused with actual piping.

Resolved: Never say “pip­ing hot” again. And so, lit­tle by lit­tle, we ban­ish clichés from our beloved language.

Fur­ther resolved: No more “deeply reli­gious” or “badly decom­posed” again, either. If you catch me at it, say something.

Gah. A kwazy-busy week stretches before me. I only vol­un­teer for a few school activ­i­ties a year, and yet they always seem to arrive in the mid­dle of a dead­line week. For­tu­nately, to leaven the seven-grain dough of this week (huh?) I have the rich stew of human­ity all around me, which calls itself…Detroit.

Really. It’s weeks like this that I pity those of you liv­ing in places like Salt Lake City or Indi­anapo­lis. You should hear the morn­ing traf­fic reports: “And we have a backup on the Lodge Free­way, appar­ently due to an engine block sit­ting in the left-hand lane…A pot­hole on the Chalmers exit ramp from east­bound I-94 has flat­tened the tires of at least two dozen cars, and they’ve run out of room to pull over, so expect delays there…” (Note: Para­phras­ing of actual traf­fic reports, with very lit­tle exag­ger­a­tion. The pot­hole actu­ally had only 12 cars dis­abled and pulled over, and the engine block? Word. A cou­ple weeks ago it was a dri­ve­shaft in the road. Ah, Detroit iron!)

And today? A man flee­ing police this morn­ing made his get­away by jump­ing into the Detroit River. Since the like­li­hood that this was either Mark Spitz or a battle-hardened Chan­nel swim­mer is pretty slim, it’s safe to say this tac­tic con­sti­tuted sui­cide and not an unortho­dox bid for asy­lum in Canada. The other day we drove down­town on sur­face streets instead of the free­way, and Alan pointed out the lat­est wrin­kle in urban life — razor wire around indus­trial and com­mer­cial build­ings’ rooflines, to keep thieves from steal­ing the rooftop air con­di­tion­ers. And yet, the town refuses to die. You gotta love it. It’s Miami with snow.

A lit­tle blog­gage today, for your amusement:

Do not, what­ever you do, go to the Gen­er­a­tor Blog. I mean, if you have work to do. Because you will not be com­ing back soon:

ImageChef.com - Create custom images

The NYT has a story today on gay evan­gel­i­cal Chris­tians. You can tell the gay gene is a lit­tle weak in these guys because they have a really ugly cof­fee table. (Regret­tably, the online ver­sion crops most of it out, but take my word for it — it’s plate glass on top of two ceramic ele­phants, Pier One c. 1980-something.)

Off to beat my head against the wall of a cor­po­rate PR machine make some phone calls. Make merry in the comments.

21 responses to
“What’s wrong with ‘hot?’”

  1. Mindy said on December 12th, 2006 at 10:45 am

    Add “cream­ery but­ter” to the list of retirees. Cream­eries haven’t existed in, what, a hun­dred years? Yet adver­tis­ers have invited us to sam­ple deli­cious food slatered with “rich cream­ery but­ter” for at least that long.

  2. brian stouder said on December 12th, 2006 at 10:54 am

    You know, I watched a Food Net­work con­test show where the bar­ris­tas (or what­ever they call them­selves; I pre­fer ‘cof­fee jerk’) com­peted to make the most com­pelling design in the foam in the top of the cup. (In real life, I have prob­a­bly never con­sumed more than about 1 fluid ounce of cof­fee of any sort.…but I must be on my 73,000th gal­lon of Diet Coke)

    As for traf­fic, this area made The Weather Chan­nel the other day, when we had just enough snow, and just enough cross-wind, to cause a white-out and a 30 car pileup on I-69 — clos­ing the inter­state for 5 miles in both direc­tions. Oddly enough, this also snarled traf­fic all through town, mak­ing us late to the Christ­mas pro­gram at North Side High School — but I digress!

  3. brian stouder said on December 12th, 2006 at 11:25 am

    speak­ing of say­ings — one that now makes me wince when­ever I hear it is ‘sold down the river’ — an echo from the days when fam­i­lies would be bro­ken up, with some ‘sold down the river’ into the [much harsher] cot­ton­fields of the deep south.

  4. Dorothy said on December 12th, 2006 at 11:50 am

    Mindy I beg to dif­fer!! http://​www​.cream​ery​.psu​.edu/

    Penn State Uni­ver­sity has a cream­ery and the ice cream there is fab­u­lous. It’s actu­ally part of the cur­ricu­lum in the Food Sci­ence Depart­ment. So cream­eries might not exist every­where, but there are still some around!

  5. nancy said on December 12th, 2006 at 12:18 pm

    OSU used to have a cream­ery, too, as part of the ag school. They sold the best ice cream on the planet, but closed years ago.

    I have a new banned phrase, too: “Infi­nitely (what­ever).” Bleh.

  6. Marcia said on December 12th, 2006 at 12:34 pm

    As far as the gay evan­gel­i­cals go, this quote via Zorn cracked me up. (Sorry if you’ve read it already; I’ve been out of the blog­ging loop.)

    If (ousted evan­gel­i­cal leader Ted) Haggard’s unblink­ing con­gre­ga­tion could sit and lis­ten to such a litur­gi­cal Lib­er­ace week after week and not real­ize they were in the pres­ence of some­one who makes Barry Manilow in a full-length mink look butch, they really need to recal­i­brate their abil­ity to detect prescription-strength doses of flamboyance.….His lying skills are so uproar­i­ously ama­teur­ish that, frankly, I think he needs some lessons from a pro like Dick Cheney, a man who can say, “I’m not cur­rently say­ing this” and mean it.…“Betty Bowers”

  7. brian stouder said on December 12th, 2006 at 12:39 pm

    more phrases to ban: ‘unprece­dented ______’ (almost noth­ing is really unprecedented)

    ‘virtual_____’ and/or ‘virtually________’

  8. Dave said on December 12th, 2006 at 2:12 pm

    The cream­ery in my home­town, Pick­er­ing­ton, OH, closed in the mid-seventies. It was the Pick­er­ing­ton Cream­ery, home of Mayflower Gold n’ Flow But­ter and I remem­ber it being very good but­ter. They also made some good cheese there.

    A dozen cars with flat tires? Engine blocks in the mid­dle of the free­way? Much too much excite­ment, guess I’m con­tent with the mun­dane and would not be thrilled with such early-morning com­mut­ing adven­tures. Am I allowed to use mundane?

  9. Dwight Brown said on December 12th, 2006 at 2:22 pm

    May I please add to the list of banned phrases: “bru­tally murdered”?

    How­ever, if you ever run across the body of some­one who has been “gen­tly mur­dered”, use of that phrase is permissible.

  10. John said on December 12th, 2006 at 3:25 pm

    How about “lit­er­ally?” Very overused. I lit­er­ally hear it all the time!

    And I thought the same thing when I saw the NY Times shot!

  11. Connie said on December 12th, 2006 at 3:30 pm

    Michi­gan State had a cream­ery as well and sold great Christ­mas cheese boxes. It was part of the school of agriculture.

  12. Marcia said on December 12th, 2006 at 3:42 pm

    Years ago, there was an obit­u­ary in the Dis­patch for some­one who had been “mur­dered unexpectedly.”

    Not that this matches the theme here. Just that Dwight’s com­ment reminded me of it, and it is some­what amus­ing. As if most vic­tims expect to be murdered.

  13. brian stouder said on December 12th, 2006 at 3:43 pm

    Along the lines of things which are hack­neyed — has any­one seen the movie “Fly Boys”?

    We caught it at the dol­lar movie (I love that place!) — and it’s highly roman­ti­cized bit of fluff ‘inspired by actual events’ in the first world war (pre­sume­ably that means that there really WAS a Great War in Europe, and there WAS an air corps called the Lafayette Escadrille…but not much beyond that!)

    The movie was enter­tain­ing enough — cer­tainly worth the dol­lar admis­sion — but it got me think­ing about war movies in general.

    This one was sort of a cin­e­matic cross between Titanic and Gone With the Wind…in some ways fairly blunt (the war-weary anti­hero hints at a much darker truth, which the movie oth­er­wise res­olutely looks away from), but also a lot like World War II movies that were made dur­ing the war, wherein moral ques­tions are lit­er­ally ren­dered in black and white.

  14. Adrianne said on December 12th, 2006 at 3:53 pm

    And now for some­thing com­pletely different..

    I hate to indulge in schaden­freude, but this I can­not resist: the allegedly “comic” writer who does Mal­lard Fill­more, the least funny comic strip going that wee­nie news­pa­pers run to offer a “con­ser­v­a­tive” voice, was picked up for his sec­ond DWI in three months in Colum­bus, Ohio. He will now join the list of unfor­tu­nate mug shots of the nearly famous. Here’s the link: http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061212/LOCAL/%20612120413

  15. nancy said on December 12th, 2006 at 3:57 pm

    Adri­anne, I’m so dis­ap­pointed in you. Mallard’s cre­ator was picked up in Colum­bus, Indi­ana. Bartholomew County. Don’t you remem­ber our trip to Louisville, and stop­ping at the truck stop there, and Ron wanted to buy the Alf clock?

    You’d think, with a cul­tural expe­ri­ence like that, you’d remember.

    This does explain a lot about Mal­lard Fill­more, though.

    Oh, and Kate used “lit­er­ally” the other day. Cor­rectly. Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, I asked her what the word meant, and she defined it cor­rectly. Con­grat­u­la­tions, I told her, you’ve just leapfrogged ahead of most of the writ­ing pub­lic and many news­pa­per reporters, and you’re only in fourth grade.

  16. Ricardo said on December 12th, 2006 at 11:34 pm

    This is true. Around 1966, a guy was being chased by the Detroit police down West Grand Blvd. He was dri­ving a late model Ampho­bile, that part-car part-boat inven­tion that didn’t last very long due to rust­ing. He drove right down the boat ramp at the foot of WGB into the Detroit and pro­pelled his way to Wind­sor Canada to escape.

    Well, police have radios and he was inter­cepted by Ontario’s finest. That spot is very near the area that Hou­dini came through the ice after being trapped upstream in that near-fatal stunt.

    Oh, and my grand­fa­ther told me when he came to Detroit in 1919, East and West Grand Blvd was the city lim­its pretty much.

  17. nancy said on December 12th, 2006 at 11:41 pm

    Unfor­tu­nately, the guy today wasn’t dri­ving a water­car or amphibi­ous vehi­cle of any kind. And he died. Police said he was depressed. RIP.

  18. Nina Boslin said on December 13th, 2006 at 12:32 am

    I did not need another blog to book­mark! I am like a fiend check­ing in on the bad nanny sight­ing on http://​isawyour​nanny​.blogspot​.com/ and the gos­sip blogs and UBing all day! Now this! And yours. You rock.

  19. brian stouder said on December 13th, 2006 at 9:11 am

    The same river upon which Henry Ford once set a speed record (while it was frozen), I think

  20. Linda said on December 13th, 2006 at 11:19 am

    Could we retire “went miss­ing”? What’s wrong with “dis­ap­peared”? Also “busted” as a verb is very annoy­ing. Lake Supe­rior State Col­lege has an annual overused words or words and phrases to retire list.

  21. MarkH said on December 14th, 2006 at 8:46 pm

    Dave, I remem­ber the Pick­town cream­ery! I lived there from ’77-’79, in a lit­tle house on a hill south of town on (where else?) Hill Road. I think it closed just after I moved there; great dairy stuff.

    My God, Pick­town has changed, too. I have two col­lege bud­dies who live there and have peri­od­i­cally keep me up on all the changes. So, I Google-Earthed the area and was floored at the unbri­dled sprawl. Couldn’t find my lit­tle old house either; the one that almost blew off its foun­da­tion in the bliz­zard of ’78.