Butts, Asses, Rear Ends, and Derrières, Oh the Many Terms For the You Know What

I was teaching my class American slang the other day when the term butt dial came up. From there I was asked about the proper or more common term for that part of the human anatomy that one sits on. Soon I had twenty different terms on the board. My students were bemused doubtless in part because their languages also have multiple terms for one’s backside.

Anyway I thought it might be interesting to discuss each term right here on this blog, though frankly there’s not a lot to say about many of them. I’ll give it a go.

Ass. My preference if you’re not in formal company or “polite society.” Very few people are offended by the term anymore. It’s also the one that is best suited for compliments as in “she has a nice ass” or, of course, “he has a nice ass.” It’s used in certain phrases such as “pain in the ass” and “you can kiss my ass.” (I’ve never understood exactly how telling someone that they can kiss your ass works as an insult. Would you really want  this person — who you presumably don’t like or are angry at — to kiss any part of your body? And what if the person rather fancies you and would enjoy puckering up? There are two variations: kiss my ass and you can kiss my ass. The latter explicitly grants permission. I’ve also heard “kiss my aching ass” though what the fact that your ass aches has to do with anything I honestly don’t know.

Butt. Maybe your most common and basic term. Not to be confused with buttload. The term “BUTTLOAD” actually comes from a genuine historical unit of measurement. A butt was a large cask used primarily for storing wine, beer, and other alcoholic drinks, and it equaled about 126 U.S. gallons (roughly 477 liters). In fact, a butt was considered half of a tun, another old liquid measurement. In terms of referring to what one sits on and defecates out of butt is boring but perfectly serviceable.

Rump. Let’s reserve this for when describing a particular kind of roast or an animal’s anatomy. It’s not used much these days anyway.

Rear end or rear. I don’t know why we would use rear end when the shorter rear is available. But then people do love a redundant word. Rear is suitable, inoffensive, gets the job done.

Tookus (which has various spellings) and it’s half sibling tush and it’s effeminate form tushy. This is a word more commonly used by our Jewish friends. I’ve never thought to employ it but won’t complain if you do.

Bottom. This seems to be popular for use with children and I believe it appropriate with little tykes. But pleas, never describe an adult’s ass as a bottom.

Posterior. It’s nice that we have it as an option but I don’t think it should or will ever become commonly used.

Buns. Nope. I’ve never heard anyone I respected use this term. Let’s not give it anymore space here. Just move on.

Caboose. It’s kind of cute but not cute enough to take it out of mothballs.

Fanny. Absolutely not. Forget you heard it, I’m sorry I mentioned it. Only your Aunt Gladys with the harelip would use it and then only after a third whiskey sour.

Bum. Short and efficient. Nothing wrong with it. Mostly used by Brits.

Derrière. If you think you sound classy by using a French word you’re only half right. It’s suitable for parties.

Booty. As in booty call. This was popular when I was growing up and mostly within the African American community. Whether it’s usage still skews to younger people and among Blacks, I don’t know. It simply does not work today for adults of any color, ethnicity, religion or lodge membership. It’s day has come and gone.

Keister. Your Aunt Glady’s husband, Uncle Hobart will use this but you shouldn’t.  Originating in the late 19th-century underworld, it previously meant a burglar's tool-box or a suitcase, likely derived from the Yiddish or German word Kiste (box/case). It is used to describe the seat, such as "falling on one's keister.”

Tail. Humans do not have tails so forget it.

Heinie. I’ve been around for many decades and have only heard this used maybe a handful of times. It’s dated and fading completely out of use. Or at least one hopes.

Behind. Nothing wrong with it. Fairly common. I don’t know why it would be used in preference to other terms.

Haunches. Maybe it’s a regional thing but — while I know of its existence — I never hear it.

Can. I think it had an earlier heyday. Wouldn’t mind it making a comeback. Don’t know how it started getting used.

Duff. Like others on this list I just don’t get it. But if you must….

There you have it folks, my first ever post about asses, butts, keisters, cans, heinies…..You’re welcome!

Not Happy With the World Today? It's a Celebrity's Fault!

Evidently this is the man who gave us Trump II

Why are we at war with Iran? Why is inflation out of control? Why are civil liberties disappearing? Why are the rich paying little or no taxes while vital social services are being cut? Why do we have a president who is utterly despicable? The answer, I learned last night on social media, is simple. Because of George Clooney. The bastard.

Let me back up a little bit first. I frequent Bluesky having gotten out of the hellscape that was Twitter eighteen months ago. On Bluesky I mostly post about and follow accounts about my favorite English football club, Arsenal. I do follow a few politically-oriented accounts. But not many. Bluesky so far seems to be overwhelmingly liberal or progressive whether the accounts are American or British. As my primary interest is in English football (soccer, to you Yanks) most of what I follow is English born and bred, so to speak.

I followed (now past tense) this one charming woman who posted political stuff much of it displaying her wit. But last night she posted something that was utterly ridiculous. I had a hard time believing she was serious -- she was. The woman was understandably lamenting the current state of affairs vis a vis the presidency and claimed that it was in large part the fault of the actor George Clooney (please note I'm sparing you the actual posts primarily because I don't want to see the stupid things again). It seems that in her mind Clooney was THE driving force behind Joe Biden dropping out of the presidential race some two years ago and this is was led to Trumpy's victory. Evidently she was unaware of Biden's performance in his debate with Trumpy and doesn't recall how far behind he was in the polls nor that he would have gotten squashed in the election. In her mind (what there is of it) had Biden stayed the course we would have been spared Trumpy. Pure fantasy.

One immediate question I had was: why are dredging this up two years after the fact? What possible purpose could it serve to start assigning blame for the results of the last election when we've got so many problems to be dealing with right now and while energy should be focused on kicking ass in the mid term elections which are a little over six months away. In any event she brought it up nonetheless. 

I noted that there were a fair number of responses to her post. I decided to have a look reasoning that people were taking her to task for such a ridiculous comment. I was wrong

Many people decided to pile on Clooney some noting that he no longer even lives in the USA. People on social media do love a good pile on. It's like seeing someone who's just been beaten up and is prone on the ground and giving them a few good kicks to the ribs. 

But some people found other villains. These included -- I kid you not -- Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart. It seemed these two (to be fair they should have included Seth Meyers and probably dozens of other comedians) had the temerity to make jokes about Biden's debate performance and his general displays of ineptitude. If they'd kept their yaps shut or pretended that everything with Biden was hunky dory, Trump would have gone down in flames in the election.

Somehow Jake Tapper was lumped in with the comics and Susan Sarandon (who had been blamed for Trumpy's first election victory) was also blamed. Sarandon seems destined to be a punching bag for the rest of her days.

There's nothing like good old-fashioned finger pointing. However none of those fingers were pointed at all the idiots who voted for the Republican ticket in 2024. Seems odd to me because they were the ones who actually wanted the idiot in office. 

Democrats are often terrible at playing the political game (see Schumer, Chuck). One example is the veritable cannibalism that goes on. It's not just in-fighting its internal nuclear war. This includes finding scapegoats within the party which is a helluva lot easier than fixing existing problems or looking ahead to make a better future. After all that requires work. Finger pointing just requires a finger.

I threw my two cents into the conversation making points similar to those mentioned here. I got a little bit of pushback from a couple of particularly dense people but they were outweighed by those who gave me likes or re-posts. 

More than anything I wanted to get the hell out of the conversation and unfollow or block the offenders. I also wanted to see if I could track Clooney down and ask him if he'd own up to being to blame for the state of the world today. Damn celebrities. 

Frighteningly Real, Welles' The Trial is a Fitting Cinematic Version of the Great Kafka Novel

It’s sad but true that I related to the main character, Joseph K. In Orson Welles’ cinematic version of Kafka’s The Trial (1962). It would be hyperbolic to say that I had a similar experience but I certainly had the same feeling of dealing with a labyrinthine and unknowable bureaucratic nightmare. 

One such occasion was one fine day when I was called into the principal’s office after having taught my first class of the day. I was told to bring along a union rep. I was met by the principal, a vice principal and the school district’s associate superintendent for instruction. I was told that there had been a charge of sexual harassment against me and that I was too be suspended effectively immediately while an investigation was conducted. I was not told who had leveled the charge nor what I was alleged to have done or when or where.

I was then escorted to my classroom to collect my personal belongings. When I tried to turn off my computer I was blocked. A school safety officer drove me home.

I felt like the world had ended. 

The next week was a living nightmare. Sleep was difficult. I spent hours trying to imagine who had accused me of what. I was on the phone constantly with the union president and the school district office. I felt like a pariah but didn’t know what I’d done to earn this awful feeling.

Six days after I was told of the accusation I was told that I had been cleared and that I could return to work. But I was still not told who had charged me of what. I was to learn that some of my female students had been interviewed about me and that my computer had been taken and my search history examined.

(Years later I was to learn that the accusation had been made by a female student who had a grudge against me for my role in a suspension that she’d earned. I also learned that that she’d leveled similar charges against other teachers. More than that I was told that the principal had been admonished for taking the girl’s accusation so seriously and that the principal had been told to apologize to me — she never did which is why I still take such great satisfaction in her having been fired.)

This was not the only — though certainly the worst — experience I had with the school district. Oh the stories I could tell and may yet.

One of the worst feelings we can have in life is not knowing what the hell is going on. You get a note from the principal that says “see me after school.” It could mean anything and the torment of not knowing what lasts until you enter the principal’s office. Having that feeling last for days is what The Trial captures so well.

While watching it I noted that there were stretches when I wasn’t paying attention to the dialogue. This can be a problem in trying to understand and appreciate a film. Not so with The Trial. After all much of the dialogue is circular, repetitive, slightly off, meant to obscure and confuse not inform. The film is more about the surrealism, the camera angles, the disorientation and confusion. 

The Trial gives you a psychologically vertiginous feeling. The world is off kilter and it’s difficult to know your place in it. Or for that matter up from down, right from wrong. Joseph K is at the mercy of….he doesn’t know exactly what.

It is a masterpiece of direction by Welles, liberally borrowing from the German expressionist of three decades before.  Too many people think that other than Citizen Kane all he directed was The Magnificent Ambersons — which the studio butchered. But in addition to The Trial he directed The Stranger, a terrific film in which he co-starred with Edward G Robinson, Chimes at Midnight his ode to the great bard, Touch of Evil, The Lady from Shanghai, F is for Fake and Othello, one of the better cinematic versions of a Shakespeare play.

The Trial wouldn’t be an easy watch for everyone but for some of us, it’s sadly familiar. Anthony Perkins starred as Joseph K and he captured a man struggling in unreality. The supporting cast includes Romy Schneider, Jeanne Moreau and Welles. 

What Took Me So Long? I Finally Get Around to Watching Mad Men -- and I Loved it

Jon Hamm as Don Draper

Well…that was interesting. I spent just over three months with Mad Men. Immersed in it. Binging all seven seasons and ninety-two episodes. Novelistic. One of the great TV shows of all time. People were variously fascinating, odious and pitiable. I was often unsure of whether I should cheer them on or revile them. I did both.

Mad Men was fascinating on many levels particularly in its depiction of how people delude themselves, lie to themselves and put up false fronts for others. Most of the time people were calculated in what they said or did or if not they were drunk and totally reckless. Everyone was self interested and loyalty could be bought and sold. I think it's a real reflection on business environments and the difficulty a lot of people have living in their own skin and more than that, understanding and appreciating others.

People were verbally vicious in a way that I sometimes felt was unrealistic. Alliances were formed but soon dissipated. Friends became enemies and vice versa. People wanted money, power, respect and sometimes just to be acknowledged and maybe loved a little bit. Relationships were mostly transactional. Even marriages. Trust was nigh on impossible.

Who can relax into life in such circumstances? No wonder everyone drank constantly. They needed to self-medicate or turn into nervous wrecks. Some did both.

At the center was Don Draper (Jon Hamm). Outwardly the uber handsome, cool, creative superstar of advertising. But as is the case with human beings he was a complex character which means he had a past that formed and deformed him — boy did he. It can be maddeningly difficult to know one’s self, when you steal someone’s identity that equation is many times squared. How could others really know him if he didn’t know himself? Understand him? The impossible dream. It was no wonder he bounced from one relationship to the next. How could he find love and contentment when he couldn’t find it in himself? Sex was often another way to avoid introspection. When you’re intimate with another person, surely everything is okay. But then you get out of bed.

Draper was at the center of the story episode after episode so we had to root for him. This became easier as we saw his vulnerabilities. It’s hard to hate a person when you know so much about them. And we got to know Draper — one of the richest characters television dramas has ever produced. We also got what we most want out of characters — change. How does this character grow throughout the series? How do they respond to events around them, particularly the ones over which they have no control?

It was not a one man band. Draper was surrounded by a deep supporting cast. The most compelling was Peggy Olson (Elizabeth Moss). From something of an ingenue to a big wheel in a big company, she had an interesting ride and went through an array of changes. There were failed loves (what on Earth did she ever see in Duck? — Yuck!) And big wins and little losses. Her relationship with Draper was one of the best things to watch on the show. It was a good choice not to have them consummate it, that would have been too easy a move and not quite right for either character. As the show progressed Peggy was often angry, sometimes justifiably so and other times unnecessarily. Given the level of sexism she was dealing with, one has to give her a pass.

Joan Holloway (Christina Hendricks) was another female character whose story arc was highlighted. Unlike Peggy I never warmed to her. She was so often so cold and I never understood why she literally prostituted herself to gain an account for the firm. But even more than Peggy she had to navigate the roiling waters of sexism that could have drowned a lesser woman. (Imagine what it was like for “real” women in that time and before and even since. Infuriating.) Like a lot of the characters Joan could be heartless in her remarks to co-workers, often Peggy. I found this damn near unrealistic. People said things to each other — cruel, personal, insulting — that would leave deep long-lasting wounds. I realize the business world of the Sixties was different than what I’ve experienced but still remaining friends with someone who verbally eviscerates you seems a stretch. I was also bothered by just how much drinking Draper on others did. Not morally offended, but it seemed beyond the limits of what a human could endure and remain ambulatory.

Elizabeth Moss as Peggy Olson

A character who frequently made rude remarks was Pete Campbell (Vincent Kartheiser). He was a perfectly hatable person who proved that you can be something of a dimwit and still succeed in the business world. The proper connections, the right background and particular kind of glibness can offset being a total jerk. He was a tough watch for me, but like so much of the show, an interesting one.

I much preferred Roger Sterling (John Slattery). He was a right bastard but a charming and witty one. He was a man who didn’t know what he wanted but had a lot of fun looking for it. His LSD trip episode was particularly enjoyable. Sterling represented a certain archetype. The man from money and the right school who comes to be defined by his money, power and hedonism. I think he admired, even loved Don Draper, but everyone else was window dressing — unless they were available young women.

There are many other characters that much more could be said about and therein lies one of the great strengths of the show. There were no stick figures. Everyone was fully drawn and fully believable to the point where they began to feel familiar.

One of the beauties of Mad Men was how it took it’s time. The pacing was always nearly perfect. Scenes were allowed to breath but they were never languid and always to a point. Writing and directing like that is a rare thing. In watching all ninety-two episodes I was rarely bored (a few story lines were less appealing than others). The were no wrong notes. Characters may have surprised you from time-to-time but they were always consistent with who they were.

It’s amazing that it took me over ten years from the end of the show’s run for me to start watching. I can’t explain it other than to say we often come to things when the time is right for us. It was my kind of show particularly because it was set in the Sixties a time I grew up in and have had an enduring fascination with.

We get heavy doses of sexism, homophobia and racism not to mention a dollop of classism. But we get the coincidental social and cultural changes of the time. People’s attitudes soften, hair grows longer, there is a begrudging acceptance of “others.” The period accuracy was particularly appealing to me.

How did I feel about the ending of the show? The same way I did about the beginning and most of the middle — spot on. They took some strange twists and turns to get there but wrapping it up with the iconic “Hilltop” Coke ad with the subtle suggestion that it was a Don Draper invention, hit the mark. Surely he went back to the ad game. He’d wandered, he’d wondered, he’d found a bit of himself, he’d experienced contentment and enlightenment. But for fulfillment, well that required him going back to work. Creative people have got to create. Otherwise, what else are they? I imagine it was a long time before he retired. I’d also guess that Peggy was working alongside him till he left and they still never slept together. After all, she’d finally found love and it had been right under her nose where only we in the audience could see it.

Where do I rank Mad Men among TV show?. You’ll soon find out. A future post will list my favorite TV dramas. Rest assured it will be near the top, which, considering some of the programs produced this century, is already high praise.

I’m damn glad I invested the time in Mad Men. (I’m also glad it’s over so I can catch up on other things like reading.) It was deeply satisfying to plunge into story so rich in ideas. Mad Men took itself seriously and invested in characters and authenticity and all the small things that make a show special (set designs, period detail, wardrobe, the use of just the right music). 

I’m glad I got to know Don Draper — well, as best as one can.

How the Hell Do You "Enjoy the Sunshine"?

I don’t eat cottage cheese and I don’t like it, so why would someone say to me: “enjoy your cottage cheese”? Okay, they probably wouldn’t. Yet people sometimes a person will tell me to “enjoy the sunshine.” Unlike enjoying cottage cheese I don’t even know what this means. Am I expected to go outside and feel the sun on my face and exclaim: “this is great!”? Am I supposed to go for a walk “in the sun”? If the latter does that mean I’m supposed to enjoy the look of the cloudless sky and the large yellow orb in the sky? What the hell?

Sunshine has it’s place in the world. A sunny day, particularly following a series of cloudy or rainy days can be most welcome. But by and large I don’t care for the sun beating down on me. If it’s in your face it can be damned annoying and obscure your vision. I hate the sun in my face. I especially dislike the sun if it’s hot, after all the sun is the source of that heat. No thanks.

Give me fog, rain or at least overcast. Keep the temperatures down in the low sixties at most. I’ve got coats, jacket, scarves t and sweatshirts, let me wear them. I hate coming home sweaty because it was hot outside. 

I make a point of letting people know my feelings about the sun and sunny days. They never seem to hear it. I’m still told to “enjoy the sunshine.” I still hear: “isn’t it beautiful out?” “What a nice day.” “What great weather.” Drives me nuts. It's like people don't want to listen to contrary opinions.

Making it worse people will cheer on the sun during a drought. I remember at work once someone mentioned we were finally going to get rain after months without a drop, this at a time when there were  fears of a drought. One co-worker responded with “oh no!” As if she'd just been told that a meteor was going to crash somewhere  in the area. Some people — check that, many people — seem to want it to be 75 degrees and sunny everyday. How terribly boring.

Give me variety. Mix in some rain with the sun, some sun with the rain. Bring in some clouds. Speaking of which, I’ll never understand people raving about cloudless days. If we’re going to have blue skies there’s nothing prettier than big white puffy clouds scattered about. No clouds is depressing, empty, like death. 

I’ve had people get annoyed with me because I bristle at sunny days and celebrate the rain. They can’t stand that I won’t get with the program and be like everyone else. Why do I have to be a spoilsport and have my own opinions?

A final word on this: often those warm (or hot), sunny days people extol are a product of global warming. We experienced that here a few weeks ago when there was a week of record-breaking heat. High temperature records were set virtually everyday. It was all down to — this accord to meteorologists — climate change. That makes it worse when people are essentially celebrating global warming. These are the same people who love a good drought too.

Enjoy the sunshine? Can’t do it. Just as I can’t enjoy cottage cheese.

Yours Truly the Teacher: An Imposter or Lucky?

I’ve been teaching for most of the last forty years and I still ask myself if I’m good teacher or an imposter. I wonder if I was “meant to be” a teacher or if I stumbled into it.

For the first part of my career I was a middle school history teacher although I did a lot of subbing before and after. I know for a fact that a lot of students loved me. I was an interesting and innovative teacher who did his level best to make history come alive and create connections in history with the world of today. I was dedicated, hard-working and on top of that a “fun” teacher with a rich sense of humor. It can be argued that I leaned too heavily into that humor and brought an element of silliness to the classroom. For a lot of students this was a welcome change from the drudgery they experienced in a lot of classrooms. 

I was meticulous about the tests I wrote and the projects I assigned. Then again I was a lazy grader often not giving students the feedback that they deserved. I met with students on a regular basis and tried to find ways to motivate the ones who needed it. They knew I cared.

My biggest flaw was that I handled discipline poorly. I was inconsistent, strict at times, loosey goosey at others. Adolescents need consistency. I was also impatient and at times temperamental. Side effects to medications I was on for panic and depression sometimes made matters worse. It was an odd profession for me considering I suffer fools badly. Still most students and parents were happy with me and I was showered with compliments at various times. 

My biggest problem was an inability to get along with administrators who for the most part disliked me. I was oppositional and questioned decisions and orders and rules. Far from being able to kiss ass I was a pain in that ass. This came back at me in waves. I was always being scrutinized and criticized by administrators. It didn’t help that most of them were incompetent. Certainly my relations with higher ups tainted my teaching career and drove me out of public schools. I could have handled it better. 

I safely landed in the world of teaching in English language centers like EF, LSI and Kaplan (I’m still at Kaplan). Here the results have been decidedly better. After stumbling through my first year or so I’ve been universally loved by students and administrators. Nonetheless I still, at times, feel like an imposter. I’ve never strictly followed the curriculum at any school. I give short shrift to certain grammar topics such as the passive voice and reported speech preferring to focus on what I consider more important topics such as writing correctly. 

So I’ve never been a by-the-book teacher but I get results and plaudits. I also love what I’m doing. I variously loved and hated being a public school teacher but there’s little not to like about teaching English to eager learners from all over the world (I’ve had students from over sixty different countries). I spend one helluva lot of time either alone or just with my wife. I’m not a social butterfly. But I like people and in my job I get to interact with them daily. I’ve had a few jerks, a few who are lazy a few but for the most part they’re darlings and we have fun. 

Sometimes life doesn’t take us where we want to go but we end up where we need to be all the same. I don’t suppose I am an imposter. More accurately I’ve been incredibly lucky.