It was snowing like crap in Jackson Hole. My entire identity as a Ford Transit Trail was at risk as the white fluffy was piling up and making me look like a marshmallow. The overlords, Paula and Scott, had wimped out and decided not to drive to Park City in the middle of the snowstorm and instead thought they could handle 36 inches of powder skiing for the next 3 days. Fortunately, they took some pointers from one of the Jackson Hole ski instructors, Natalie Smink, who happens to be a relative and who showed them about the mountain on her day off.
Ski instructors! What do they do on their days off? Ski!! And instruct. It’s all in the hips. She had me do a stork maneuver, at the end of which I had the overwhelming desire to give some lucky couple a newborn baby.
Recently a 2020 Camaro told me that they were going to stop using their pronouns of choice. “Milton, you’re a nice guy, late model domestic type. You even take regular gas,” they said. “But it’s the law now. You know, with the new folks in the pulpit. I’m going to have to go back to ‘he.’ “
All Camaros were assigned a male identity at the factory (of course). However, my Chevrolet friend has a lot of cylinders, and not every one is firing on testosterone, so “they/them” seemed like a good fit.
Well, I’ve given it a think, and liberty being what it is, I think I’ll take some of that liberty and carry the pronoun torch.
This week, I’ll try a different pronoun every day – her, him, them, …. Oh fiddlesticks, I’m running out. Let’s try some new parts of speech. How about hu, humk, torm, pom, and Gretchen. Why not?
That reminds me to ask Gretchen (an old Saab) about pronouns. Vladimir is trying to get some action, so he/she/they will probably say “None of your beeswax!!!!” Europe to the rescue of the Americas. We are hoisted by our own petards.
Mine are fringed with black lace.
Scott D. McLean, MD 