By Ed Hayes
The Norman Transcript
Norman — You gotta draw the line. You’ve heard that line before.
OK, taking it from there — it can become a game, say, for travelers. Not simply to entertain, or kill time. Rather, to keep the brain animated, in pursuit of elegance.
Listen. There’s nothing wrong simply sitting by the window in an automobile, bus or train, relaxing, mile after mile, soaking up classy countryside. Often, though, one needs a break from reading or daydreaming.
Word game, anyone?
This diversion requires only two players.
From the top, then, contestants pick a word. In turn, each person comes up with a sentence utilizing the same salient word, as long as it carries a different meaning.
Example? Well, look no further. Return with me now to the first line atop this column. Obviously the key word is “line.”
OK, ready to draw the line? I’ll start the ball rolling:
“During WWII, I was sent behind enemy lines.” From there the script could progress along the following lines.
“My cousin Jackie was in the long gray line. Snafus, line up. You’re being sent to the front line. Tsk-tsk, Humphrey forgot his line. Enos Slaughter hit line drives. Victoria’s Secret manufactures a fine line.”
And so on. Oh, you want to play on? Go.
“What’s your line? Who’s on the telephone line? Don’t cross crime line! Typically, pitchers bat ninth in line-up. Who’s on the firing line? Elmer’s hard to get a line on. The pages of my tablet are lined. Sis had a sip or two but still walks straight as a clothes line. Frances Farmer had gorgeous lines.”
OK, players, if I were referee here, the only word I’d haul in off the line for questioning is “line-up.” Still, the hyphen is such a thin line, I’d accept it.
A confused Chinese friend of mine attending classes to improve her speech wonders if English is the only language with so many double-meaning words. She mentioned three quick everyday examples: their, there and they’re.
“Is enough to confuse Confucius,” she say.
You know, one of my regrets in being blessed to live a fairly long life is that I haven’t learned a new word every day. Once upon a time that was my cacoethes.
Well, I’m crazy about words. Maybe I did come across fresh ones daily, but in time the expanding collection is an albatross to drag around. I have ample problems with my memory as is. You know what I mean.
Truly, I can’t find enough words to thank God for life, and for my spouse who inoculates my life with unadulterated love and tender upkeep, and for the fact I don’t have to go online to tell them.
No, I’ve not forgotten the irreplaceable you, the character reading these words. That’s the bottom line.
