TO VERBBLE

Nouns have their place in language. They are names for things. Sometimes magically, the sound of the noun as it leaves the lips provides the sonic equivalent of the thing represented - Booger, for example. Ahh, the miracle of onomatopoeia, that mainstay of poetry. Verbs have their place as well. As we all remember from grade school, they are action words. They too, can sound like what they are. Smack perfectly tips you off to what is taking place. Occasionally, verbs and nouns become tangled - run, the noun; run, the verb - the determination made by context.

Governments and corporations, usually out of stupidity or an attempt at obfuscation, will frequently turn a noun into a verb. A favorite corporate one, interface, has wormed its way into everyday usage, sadly. Popular culture has been known to do this as well. To macgyver is to spontaneously invent something out of ordinary objects (a coke can, duct tape and pine nuts), though not necessarily to save the world.

In our home the act of creating a verb from a noun is called verbbling, itself a form of what it describes.

Acting out of desperation, due to a lack of time for a real blog entry, I will occasionally offer one of our household verbbles in the hope of spreading its usage. All apologies to Curry and his Saturday Slang.


When our black dog was young, even by dog years, we had a vase of tulips that sat upon a table for several days. The dog had passed it regularly without incident. On the fourth day of the floral display however, the dog in mid-saunter, pulled up short. Staring at the vase, her hair bristled, and with teeth bared she let out an intense, low frequency growl. She clearly did not like the tulips and despite all our attempts to calm her, it became obvious the blooms would no longer be welcome in the house. Not long after that she had the same reaction to an afghan that had been folded innocently over the arm of the sofa for some time. The bared teeth, the attack pose, and the deep, serious growl all combined to drive the afghan into the closet. The dog had by her actions, added to our family vocabulary the verb, tulip.

Tulip - to suddenly find what was once familiar, non-threatening, or even desirable, now disturbingly uncomfortable and to react negatively to its appearance.

Usage

"Every time I see Bill Clinton this campaign season I tulip."

"Dennis Miller was on HBO last night and I totally tulipped."
"Since that bad batch, Buffalo wings make me tulip."

"Whenever he wears it I pray he'll tulip that t-shirt!"

It has even wormed its way back into a new noun form.
For example: "We used to date, but now she's a tulip."

Use as you must.