What is "Diddly-Squat?"

Well Michael, that is a tremendous question and one that certainly needed asking, for sure. 

Instinct tells me that since the phrase "diddly-squat" is an insult, the origins of the phrase must have certainly been given the most debasing context possible. "diddly" being almost childlike in its cadence, inferring non-importance by the very sound of its pronunciation . Definitely condescending at the very least. Adding "squat" only further cements the insult, seeming to invoke the position required to go poo-poo. 

This said, it would seem to me that knowing "diddly-squat" is tantamount to "knowing shit", which is insulting and very concise by anyone's standard.

My first thought when told I don't know diddly squat is humiliation. And that my knowledge is limited, if not non-existent. And since my knowledge is limited and possibly compromised altogether, my first guess is likely wrong and should be looked into.

Thanks to the devoted staff of the Jerald Ford Memorial Library, Research Laboratory and Ice Cream Stand, we have been able to dredge up the following from the internet.

Etymology:

The Random House Historical Dictionary of American Slang suggests that this is a variation of doodly-squat from 1934, probably from American slang doodle (“excrement”) + squat, used in the sense of defecating.^[1] Doodly-squat was originally the more common form, but diddly-squat overtook it in the early 1980s, and is now an order of magnitude more common in print.

Definition:

slang

: the least amount : anything at alldidn't know diddly-squat about sports— Sam Toperoff
It seems I was closer than my attacker would imagine possible with my guess.So I would have to say, upon further reflection, that he didn't know diddly-squat.
Good day, Sir.

 How much is a "drove"?

That is a terrific question, Scotty, and one which I have frequently pondered. Usually at 3am, when it is either gnaw on this type of grist or wrestle with the dark demons that try to take over my soul during this, the witching hour. 

But I digress.

This, according to Miriam Webster:

"Drove: A large number of people doing or undergoing the same thing."

This definition smacks of laziness in my humble opinion. Miriam might have had a bad day or simply didn't have the resources to truly investigate - it was, after all, a much simpler time. That said, I would think with today's high-tech gadgetry, technical gewgaws and outer space all at Webster's fingertips, they might have scrubbed this kind of nebulous crowing by now and settled on a more concise, easy-to-follow protocol for defining our language on which the entire universe is inclined to rely.

Don't worry, I'll write them a strongly-worded letter. And it will be concise and easy-to-follow.

While "a large number of people" sounds like a lot, it could mean different things to different people. For instance, for a well-documented introvert like myself, three people in a living room seems like at least one too many and likely two too many. I would define three as "a large number of people" if I were questioned about the event. However, for other more gregarious folk, the more the merrier. God can only imagine what those horn-blowers and cork-poppers might say if you asked them what a large number of people would be - I would guess it would be well into the six-figures. I shudder at the thought.

Horn Blowers and Cork Poppers

Back to the issue of the drove. After reckoning on the problem at least three times longer than the nerds at Miriam Webster, I came up with what I found to be the most logical solution. By using the A1Z26 code system, wherein a letter equals a number (for example, A=1, B=2, and so on), we simply take the word "drove" and apply the code. D=4, R=18, O=15, V=22, E=5.

If you add these numbers up, it equals 67. Which by a Horn-Blower or Cork-Popper's definition would in no way be a large number of people. However, if you line the numbers up together in a row, they show 41,815,225, which by any standard would dictate a large number of people indeed.

So, I can answer, without hesitation that a drove consists of 41,815,225 people. "Droves" would be 83,630,450 or more people. And that my friend, is a lot of cheeseburgers.

Good day, sir.

How Much Wood Could A Woodchuck Chuck...

That is a fantastic question, Kevin - I'm glad you asked. They actually get their name from the Algonquin tribe of Native Americans, who originally called them “wuchak.”  English settlers, in trying to use that word, likely came up with the name “woodchuck.”  Depending on where you are in the country, woodchucks are also known as groundhogs, land beavers, and whistling pigs. This from the Wikipedia.

Personally, I prefer the "whistling pig" moniker, even though the rodent is not related to the porcine species in any way. Nor does it whistle. It just sounds more fun than groundhog or woodchuck. Land beaver just sounds like a weekend goal for a twenty-three year-old fella.

But I digress. About the chucking, one must first examine the ability of the animal to chuck. Since the name attributed to the land beaver (tee-hee) is based on it's Native American sobriquet, we can assume it had nothing to do with the animal's ability to hurl wood, or any other object for that matter. And the composition of its body does not lend itself to easy-chucking, with its short, stumpy arms and tiny paws. Unless the whistling pig is inclined to sling a branch using its jaws to grip the stick and its powerful, thick neck to propel it, the chances of it successfully tossing wood are very slim indeed.

That said, I believe that if a woodchuck could chuck wood, I imagine it would be quite a bit, given the animal's boundless energy and tenaciousness. 

If it only had thumbs and some longer arms. God is cruel.

Answer: two to three pounds of wood per hour.

Good day, sir.

What is the difference between tennis shoes and sneakers?

Ken, that is a fantastic question and I am delighted you asked. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say that tennis shoes are sold mainly for use on the tennis courts and probably have some kind of tricky, scientific design specifics that make them more suitable for the abrupt changes of direction and lateral movement inherent in the game that might blow other shoes out like a second-hand, high-mileage retread.

Sneakers, on the other hand, are most likely a rubber-soled shoe that would be worn by athletes and spies alike, who either need excellent traction or stealthy silence in their movement - hence the term "sneakers". I would also offer that the term "gumshoe" for the private eye probably came about from the requirement of stealth in the business of sleuthing. Whether or not a "gumshoe" is the same as "sneaker", I have no idea. I would also assert that a tennis shoe can be a sneaker, but a sneaker is not necessarily a tennis shoe. Let's go to the web...

"Sneakers go back a long way. In the late 18th century, people wore rubber soled shoes called plimsolls, but they were pretty crude—for one thing, there was no right foot or left foot. Around 1892, the U.S. Rubber Company came up with more comfortable rubber sneakers with canvas tops, called Keds. By 1917, these sneakers began to be mass produced. (They got the nickname sneakers because they were so quiet, a person wearing them could sneak up on someone.)" Ta-da, this from factmaster.com. I like the idea of the plimsoll - trying to differentiate between the left and right foot in the dark (especially scampering out a window with a jealous husband in hot-pursuit - just saying) can be trying. Plus, I think the plimsoll would make an excellent slapshoe, should one have the urge to be a circus clown or a silent film comedian.

And this from answers.com, regarding the gumshoe:

Gumshoe

(gŭm'shū')
n.

1. A sneaker or rubber overshoe.
2. Slang. An investigator, especially a detective.

I hope this answers your question - if it doesn't, feel free to hire a gumshoe to get to the bottom of it.

Good day, Sir.

"Pop" versus "Soda" - WTF?

This is a fantastic question, John and I am delighted you asked. I believe your initial inquiry was where and when this arbitrary diversion of terms for our beloved carbonated beverages originated and we will explore that as well. But I believe that it is equally, if not more important to Divine "what the fuck?".

My early childhood days were spent in Northern Ohio, near the banks of the Lake of Erie. If we went into a corner store or tavern or diner, my parents would order we children a "pop" - the local term for the caramel-colored variety of fizzy-drink, be it Coca-Cola, Pepsi or the regional favorite Royal Crown. This was most likely derived from the term "Soda Pop", which in turn must have gleaned its own moniker from the sound that was made when the spigots of the soda fountains from which they were drawn were opened, or the sound the bottle caps made when removed from the carbonated bottles. If we were having a clear soft drink, it was referred to as a "7-Up". This strange intermingling of the generic term "pop" and the brand name "7-Up" was a harbinger of soda things to come.
Sound confusing? Just wait.

When I moved to Arizona, later on in my childhood, I found that "pop" was called "soda". "Coke", of course was Coca Cola, or one could order a Pepsi. RC was left behind in the cloud of dust that made up the trail between Akron and Phoenix. I learned even later on that many folks (mostly in the South) referred to pop as "Coke", regardless of whether or not it was Coca Cola or one of its soda-pop competitors that was being poured.Visiting relatives in North Carolina, I was mildly confused when one of my cousins ordered a "Coke" and was given a Pepsi Cola. I pointed this out and she looked at me as if I had a third eye. An eye that obviously did not know its soda pop.

This is part of the fabric that has been woven the often-confused, distracted tapestry of my life and it's no wonder.

Enough of the "What the fuck". Let's get down to the "where and when the fuck". If you notice the map above, there is a clear line of delineation where the Northern "pop"-people and the Southern "Coke" -folk divide and I will attempt to make good, sound logical sense of the matter.

The soda fountain made its first appearance in 1819, a good 40 years before the Civil War. The first bottled fizzy was in 1835 and the term "pop" was coined in 1861, the year the Great War got underway.
It is my opinion that the entire geographical country referred to the soft drink as "soda pop" - at least for awhile. With the outbreak of the war, the North probably took claim to the "pop" portion of the name as an act of war and ran with it, while the Southerners either dismissed the term altogether in a definitive act of soft drink-defiance or the Northern blockade effectively removed the soft drink from the diet of the Southron altogether, thus nullifying the need for any descriptive whatsoever.

After the war, the Northerners most likely continued their smug use of the term "pop" - it was light, gay and carefree; they were winners. The people of the South, meanwhile, still smarting from their recent defeat, languished in reconstruction and probably threw their Johnny Reb caps in the air with the advent of Coca Cola in 1886, which actually contained the drug cocaine. The drink "was initially sold as a patent medicine for five cents a glass at soda fountains, which were popular in the United States at the time due to the belief that carbonated water was good for the health. It was claimed Coca-Cola cured many diseases, including morphine addiction, dyspepsia, neurasthenia, headache, and impotence." This according to Wikipedia.

Dulled by their dependance on the drink and the drug within, the Southern imbibers were undoubtedly dissatisfied with the non-narcotic soft drinks available and took to calling all soda "COKE", in a desparate attempt to get their hands on the miracle narcotic drink. Years of repetition and empty hope inevitably scorched this ideal into their brains, even long after the actual cocaine had been removed from the recipe.

The term "Soda" was pilfered shortly thereafter by the new kids on the block, the irreverant West, and is a keen example of their forward thinking, land-grabbing attitudes and innate sense of Western, land-grabbing entitlement. By claiming the lead word in the term "Soda Pop", the eternal optimism and free-wheeling nature of a land graced by God with endless sunshine and clear blue seas dug its tanned, muscular elbow into the rest of the war-ravaged nation. With their suddenly outdated "Pop" and "Coke", the North and South and even the Eastern seaboard were looked upon as uneducated, un-hip second-citizens of soda.

And so it remains.

Good day, Sir.

Where's Waldo?

That's a fantastic question, John and I'm happy you asked. I remember this character and the ageless question "Where's Waldo" from when my kids were actually kids. But let's get one thing straight - I don't find Waldo or trying to track him down in the least bit cute. I have never trusted this Waldo fellow and looking into his whereabouts only makes him seem even more shady than I had originally thought. I question his wardrobe, his eyeware and the creepy smile on his self-satisfied mug. I have no doubt that he has come to a bad end. Most likely at the business end of a gay biker bar in a quest to satisfy his seemingly endless hunger for the rough trade. That's pure speculation on my part, of course, based on my own close-minded attitude about striped shirts, stocking caps with tassles and walking sticks carried by youth. For all I know, Waldo could be a lifeguard at Coney Island in one of those old-timey striped one-piece bathing suits, or perhaps serving hard time on a Southern prison chain gang after knifing a drifter, or because his deviant, rough-trade lifestyle is not the least bit appreciated.

Or, perhaps Waldo has made his getaway from the Southern chain gang and finagled his way to the Far-East, where he will no doubt meet a bitter end at the hands of a sadistic Vietnamese prison guard or be hauled before international court of law, like Gary Glitter and brought home to face the music.

Wherever home is - but then, that has always been the question, hasn't it?

I'll bet that wherever Waldo hangs his betassled hat, there are drifters and rough-trade merchants aplenty.

Good day, Sir.

 

What is a gift horse and why on Earth shouldn't we look it in the mouth?

Why, Jerry, that's a great question and thanks for asking. Yes, I indeed asked this question of myself this morning after using the phrase "I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth" in a sentence today. I think I figured this one out on my own in short order, but there may be those out there who are not familiar with the nefarious ways of the horse-trader. While science,  savvy veterinarians and the Internet may have forced the horse-trader and his ilk to straighten up and fly right over the years, there is still something shifty that seems to taint the air around those in the business. I am nearly certain they prefer to be known as horse-merchants or equine distributors or some such like-term that puts much-needed distance between themselves as respectable business-people and the horse traders of the wild west, where this old saw probably reached the apex of its popularity.

In the days when the horse was the primary means of transportation, the horse trader was the equivalent of today's used-car salesman and not above misrepresenting his product in an attempt to pry an extra hard-earned shekel out of the pockets of his prospective clients. This would sometimes result in the unsavory trader being shot, stabbed or lynched by disgruntled customers. It was the way of the west and an occupational hazard.

Unsavory horse traders were sometimes shot, stabbed or lynched by disgruntled customers.

One of the means by which the shady trader would try to bamboozle his clients would be by lying about a horse's age. This little fib might lead one to believe that a horse had suffered many less miles afoot and therefore be much heartier and robust. One way to check the trader's claim would be by examining the horse's teeth, which would show wear and tear and gum damage and other red flags apparent to those in the know on such matters. This little fib might also lead to the trader being shot, stabbed or lynched. It was the old-west version of the modern-day "kicking the tires", only with the possibility of gunplay.

So, if one were so lucky as to receive a horse as a gift (the "gift horse"), it would seem unappreciative to examine the beast's teeth in front of the gift-giver. I am not certain, but I imagine seeming unappreciative upon receiving a gift horse might also lead to the eventual shooting, stabbing or lynching of an unappreciative son of a bitch.

In other words, appreciate your gifts - it's never too late for a necktie party for the unscrupulous or unappreciative.

Good day, sir.