Ahoy, ye seekers of the silver tongue! Today's entry comes from nautical parlance, from whence a staggering number of everyday phrases arose. The Navy and Marines alone are responsible for quite a few common sayings, such as "FUBAR" and "bug juice." More from that ilk in later entries.
By the way, feel free to request the origins for a word or phrase tugging at the back of your mind. If you're wondering about it, chances are I'll find it worthy of an analysis, too.
The origins of today's phrase,"high and dry," are conspicuously nautical.
Though it isn't the widely-accepted definition, I suppose it could also refer to that one time you had no liquor in the house, so you huffed a lot of aerosol instead and sat in an oxygen-deprived haze for about an hour, whipped cream dripping from your nose.
Imagine you are on a vessel. Your captain has steered your ship into, unbeknownst to you and he, a tidal pool. You anchored at high tide and careened the hull, but as you prepare to embark the waters begin to recede. You weigh anchor, unfurl the sails; the captain points your ship toward the open sea, the water disappearing around you as you work. Soon the vast expanse around you is a carpet of brown, damp sand, and your ship sits on a coral bed, holes gouged into the timbers.
And the tide, my friend, has left you high and dry.
In the early days of ship navigation, "high and dry" referred to ships beached or completely above water without an immediate means of regaining the seas. "Dry" also implied that the ship had long been out of the water - no residual moisture left in its boards - and could expect to remain beached for a while.
I'm curious to know if dry could also mean the crew had exhausted the drinking water supplies aboard. Not every captain can be as lucky as Columbus when he found the mouth of the Orinoco River on his third voyage to the New World.*
In everyday usage, if someone is left high and dry, s/he means s/he has been stranded without hope or hope of recovery for at least a little while. Your designated driver might have committed this sin against you before if given a 75 percent or greater chance to score at a mutual friend's party.
Sorry, it's codified at #4 as part of Man Law. Inviolable. Practically sacred. And the consequences would be dire.
I hope this tidbit of naval lingo will serve you well. Anchors aweigh, lads and lasses, 'til we meet again!
Information purloined from http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/high-and-dry.html
* - He also arrogantly thought that finding such a robust river meant he, no matter how many explorers and Native Americans had been there before him,** had discovered the Garden of Eden.
** - all his voyage really did was introduce syphilis to Europe.*** Don't believe me?
*** - Horny twits.
Showing posts with label phrase. Show all posts
Showing posts with label phrase. Show all posts
Friday, June 12, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Welcome, ladies and germs, to my shiny, new blog
For all of the logo- and linguaphiles out there, I plan to regularly update with tidbits about language, idioms, wordplay, puns, etymology and hilarious mistranslations. Once my online class, RTV 3280: Interactive Media, ends, I would like to make my blog more variegated, but for now I will stick to a singular topic. I hope you'll come to like the cut of my blog's jib.
"Cut of your blog's jib?" you might ask. "Why, old boy, that's crazy talk!"And while I would in response ask why you insist on speaking like the Great Gatsby, I suppose I will indulge you just this once.*
The cut of one's jib emerged as a nautical phrase most likely in the Age of Exploration. The jib is any one of various triangular sails that adds additional power to the mainsail. It is at the bow of the ship, connected to the topmast, as in the picture at the left.
Every nation's shipbuilding style resulted in a different sail shape, and a ship's nationality could therefore be determined from the jib.
(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Yacht_jib.svg)
In modern parlance, "I don't like the cut of his jib" is "I don't like the look of him." Though more humorous if so, it need not refer to just the subject's nose. Sir Walter Scott (yay Ivanhoe!) used the phrase idiomatically in his 1824 book St. Ronan's Well, a piece set mostly around a mineral spring. Bravo, Scott, for publishing a book in such an utterly boring setting.
Information purloined from http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/cut-of-your-jib.html
* - And every time hereafter
"Cut of your blog's jib?" you might ask. "Why, old boy, that's crazy talk!"And while I would in response ask why you insist on speaking like the Great Gatsby, I suppose I will indulge you just this once.*
The cut of one's jib emerged as a nautical phrase most likely in the Age of Exploration. The jib is any one of various triangular sails that adds additional power to the mainsail. It is at the bow of the ship, connected to the topmast, as in the picture at the left.Every nation's shipbuilding style resulted in a different sail shape, and a ship's nationality could therefore be determined from the jib.
(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Yacht_jib.svg)
In modern parlance, "I don't like the cut of his jib" is "I don't like the look of him." Though more humorous if so, it need not refer to just the subject's nose. Sir Walter Scott (yay Ivanhoe!) used the phrase idiomatically in his 1824 book St. Ronan's Well, a piece set mostly around a mineral spring. Bravo, Scott, for publishing a book in such an utterly boring setting.
Information purloined from http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/cut-of-your-jib.html
* - And every time hereafter
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