Retirement Nicknames

Nine-year-old Samantha Gordon weighs roughly 62 pounds and plays football in an otherwise all-boys league in Utah. In 2012 (her first year playing), she racked up 1,911 yards and 35 touchdowns, earning her the nickname 'Sweet Feet.' It’s an endearing term, in part because the juxtaposition of ‘sweet’ with ‘feet’ is so unexpected. You’d expect feet to be described as ‘smelly,’ or maybe ‘stinky,’ but not ‘sweet.” We’ve all heard ‘sweet cheeks’ before. But ‘sweet feet’? I don’t think so.

You just know where this is headed. My mind is rushing headlong down the track marked: unexpected nicknames for retirees. Let’s begin with feet, those overburdened extremities that bear the brunt of our weight gains (along with our knees). Those appendages prone to bunions and corns and hammertoes. All of which can lead to ‘orthopedic feet.’ As the saying goes (or not): If the shoe doesn’t fit, wear it. (The moniker, that is.)

Moving on to other appendages, the retired ballroom dancer who refuses to give up competitions is no longer known as ‘twinkle toes.’ She’s grown her toenails long and filed them into weaponry that peeks out of her dancing sandals. Most weeks, her nails are actually longer than her heels are high. This has earned her a new title: ‘stiletto toes.’

And while we’re on the subject of digits, most of you will have heard the phrase ‘dowager’s hump.’ Our list includes ‘dowager’s pinky.’ That’s what we’ve dubbed the bent over old lady with the crooked fingers, especially the little one that she sticks out when she’s having her afternoon tea. I am too cruel today.

Another unexpected name tied to physical attributes is the retiree’s equivalent of ‘freckle face.’ We’re now dealing with liver spots, not freckles and we’ve christened her ‘Pleiades.’ That’s the seven sisters constellation (like the seven spectacular age spots on her left cheek), and the website earthsky.org tells us it’s “visible from virtually every place that humanity inhabits Earth’s globe.” That’s pretty much true of her liver spots, too.

Moving ever so slightly away from cheeks, we come to our next nickname. You’ve probably heard of the ‘fuzzy navel,’ my late mother’s favorite cocktail. Well, we have a retired gentlemen whose ear hair has grown so long that he’s known affectionately as ‘fuzzy earlobes.’ I bet you’re tickled to read this one.

Staying in this general vicinity, and keeping in mind that U.S. Marines are called ‘leathernecks,’ let me introduce you to ‘jello neck.’ I don’t think I have to tell you how that sobriquet came about. (Lexicography buffs: there’s a double entendre in that last sentence.)

This option fits into no particular category. Can you guess the origin of the endearing label ‘Rice Krispies’? It’s how we describe the retiree whose bodily noises have now reached the point where he goes snap, crackle and pop, even when he’s sitting still. My bad. Forgive me.

Moving on to some names that came about because of certain clothing. First we have ‘shiny butt.’ He insists on wearing the same corduroy pants even when the behind has been worn down to zero nap. Then there’s the retired gentleman who never leaves his house without some dapper hat covering his bald spot. It’s usually a fedora, so a tip of the lid to ‘beau brimmel.’

We can’t leave this group without mentioning the older women who let their hosiery (especially trouser socks) collapse onto their ankles in nylon puddles. I’m labeling them ‘ankle rolls,’ but I just know there’s a cleverer pet name for them if we noodle it for awhile. And speaking of older women, let’s not forget the nosey rumor mongers in our neighborhoods. We’ll refer to them as ‘gossip laureates’ and hope the sarcasm doesn’t elude them.

Finally, we have a nickname many of us can claim. It’s for those who have not one, not two, but at least three (and maybe four) different prescriptions for various eyeglass needs. When they’re merged into one pair of glasses (avoiding the entanglement of multiple leashes), they yield lenses that give the wearer a most peculiar appearance. Ever wonder what happened to the “girl with kaleidoscope eyes” in the Beatle’s song, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds? Well, she retired and became ‘prism eyes.’

There you have it. A basketful of nicknames, pet names, monikers, sobriquets, roses by a lot of other names, for the retirees in your life. I fully expect to have several of them leveled at my husband and me when we walk together. I can hear people whispering: “There go shiny butt and ankle rolls.” At least they didn’t mention my jello neck.

Retirement Updates — Congress More Disliked Than…

Last week’s Time magazine cited voter polls that showed that the 112^th Congress was “less popular than cockroaches, colonoscopies and communism.” That’s a pretty serious state of dislike. I found it curious that all the items mentioned began with the same letter. That of course set me to thinking about the polling methodology, which wasn’t disclosed. (It appears the data sources are Gallup and Rasmussen.)

The Time write-up mentioned ranking, so it’s unlikely that voters were asked an open-ended question (e.g. name some things you dislike that begin with the letter ‘C’). If they had been, you know that constipation would have shown up ahead of cockroaches, especially among seniors. For us women, chin bristles would surely have been disliked more than communism; it’s the new millennium, for heaven’s sake.

More likely, voters were given groups of items that began with the same letter and asked to do rankings within each group. Or maybe not. In any case, I began to wonder: What other government institutions and programs, and which political nuisances, might be embedded in various letters of the alphabet to be scrutinized? And how would retirees rank them?

Certainly if those surveyed were asked about the letter ‘S’, Social Security means-testing would be less popular than skin tags and static electricity and would probably also edge out soft money, even in an election year.

Similarly, under ‘M,’ we’d see Medicare revisions faring worse than Metamucil and missing socks. It might even get a colder shoulder than Mitt Romney from Tea Partyers post-election.

Speaking of Medicare revisions, I’ll bet the prospect of grandma being rolled off a cliff means that eugenics would be disliked more than those dastardly earmarks, which in turn would be far less acceptable than earwax or ex-spouses, except perhaps in the Kardashian household.

Chances are the deficit and the debt ceiling would be in a dead heat for least popular, even when stacked up against dust mites and dry heaves.

Given the performance of this Congress, can there be any doubt that filibuster would be intensely disliked, easily beating out flatulence, fibroids and finger pointing?

As for the letter “I”, the IRS would be the perennial popularity contest loser. But for those with IPhones, the iOS6 maps app would have a stranglehold on second place this year. Not even indigestion or ingrown toenails would be in the running.

Undoubtedly, polling for ‘L’ would tell us that, after this election, lobbyists are reviled far more than liver spots and lollygaggers, but only marginally more so than Libertarians.

In a related matchup, I don’t presume to know how PACs would fare against pork barrel spending, but I’m sure they would both be less welcome than presbyopia and pollen explosions.

And speaking of Libertarians, the NRA post-Newtown might well go toe-to-toe with Neo-Nazis on the ‘hate to even hear that’ scale. There would certainly be miles of daylight between those two and whatever is third on the list for ‘N.’

No assessment of the relative likeability of government-related terms would be complete without assessing Washington itself. Let’s assume it would be pitted against whooping cough, werewolves and whiners. Is there anyone who doubts that, in the current climate, Washington would be less popular than any of those ‘Ws’?

No matter how disliked all the other letter losers would be, you just know that in any head-to-head, the 112^th Congress would be the most-reviled of the bunch. And we didn’t need Gallup or Rasmussen to tell us that.

Retirement Heads-Ups — Misleading Advertising

Lately more advertising has me saying: “What the what?” I’m talking TV commercials, magazine ads and even those coupon fliers that come in the mail. The headlines don’t seem well-matched to the products they’re pushing. To prove my point, I’ve put together a quiz using actual tag lines and real items. See if you can identify the products from the copy provided. I’m giving you a list with all the answers and then some. Promise you won’t scroll to the bottom to see the correct ones.

TAG LINES:

1.        Less jiggle. More wiggle.

2.        It’s the only one that can go in that far and stay there.

3.        Slather. Pour.

4.        I heard sounds I hadn’t heard in years.

5.        For the epic adventures of everyday life.

6.        It’s like nothing ever changed.

PRODUCT CATEGORIES OR BRANDS:

a.     Suppositories

b.     Quaker Oats

c.     Treadmills

d.     Sex lotions and toys

e.     Spanx shapewear

f.      Log Cabin syrup

g.     Special K 100 calorie snacks

h.     Testicular implants

i.      Pedigree dog food

j.      Cialis ED medication

k.     Hearing aids

l.      IHOP restaurants

m.   Clear cuticle cream

Stumped on a few of these and need some hints? Here’s additional info or another copy line for some of them.

2 and 4. These are actually trick questions; they’re for the same product. (“It’s the only one that can go in that far and stay there” and “I heard sounds I hadn’t heard in years”.)

3. Slather. Pour. Eat. Repeat.

6. Neuticles. It’s like nothing ever changed.

That’s extra clues for at least half of them, giving you a 50-50 chance at sorting out the rest. At least I think it’s 50-50. Give up? Here are the answers, with my commentary.

1.     Less jiggle. More wiggle.
No, this is not the copy line for Spanx, a treadmill or even for Special K snacks, though you would be forgiven for guessing any of those. It’s for letter i—Pedigree dog food.

2.     It’s the only one that can go in that far and stay there. (See #4.)

3.     Slather. Pour.
You would have been forgiven for guessing sex lotions and toys before I gave you the extra hint “Eat. Repeat.” If you still guessed that after my hint, you’ve been reading too much “Fifty Shades of Grey.” (Forgive me for using a 2013 banned phrase; it won’t happen again.) Log Cabin Syrup falls into a gray area—oops! I mean less clear. If you planned to put that syrup on food, good job, but no cigar. If you were putting it on your partner, see my comment about your reading material. The correct answer here is: letter l—IHOP.

4.     I heard sounds I hadn’t heard in years and It’s the only one that can go in that far and stay there.
Either of these clues (number 2 or 4) probably had several of you thinking sex toys, or maybe even testicular implants. Once again, you need to clean up your bookshelves. If you guessed suppositories, you should add more fiber to your diet. These copy lines belong to letter k—hearing aids.

5.     For the epic adventures of everyday life.
You would be forgiven for thinking this might be treadmill copy. Or even for Cialis, what with their TV commercials with the bathtubs in exotic places. Some of you might even have considered suppositories; once again, two words: “more fiber.” Actually, this is the new “Quaker Up” campaign from letter b—Quaker Oats (speaking of fiber).
“Quaker up” was surely inspired by “cowboy up,” but their Ben-Franklin-type icon would look silly in a Stetson. Their premise is that oatmeal prepares you for life’s everyday epic adventures (and no, they’re not referring to your morning constitutional). Newsflash: “everyday epic” is an oxymoron. The Odyssey is epic; Hercules’ labors are epic. Riding a bike is not an epic adventure and you don’t cowboy up to a bowl of oatmeal. That said, “Quaker Up” sure beats “Fiber Up.”

6.     It’s like nothing ever changed.
Several of you will have figured this out from my extra clue, the brand name “Neuticles.” You’re forgiven if you fell for my plant of clear cuticle cream. This is my favorite, and the answer is letter h. Neuticles are testicular implants for pets that have been neutered. They claim to allow your pet to retain his self esteem.  I doubt fake testicles will leave Rover feeling like nothing ever changed. Maybe they’ll leave his owner feeling less guilty. Something tells me this is a guy thing.

How’d you do? Five to six right: you’re a Madison Avenue pro. Three to four: you need to watch more TV. Two or fewer: you didn’t even try, did you?

Retirement Updates — Banned Words for 2013

It’s time for the annual lists that proliferate on the Internet, including banned words and phrases. I put together my own candidates, confident that several entries would be no-brainers on everyone’s list of what we can do without in 2013.

Lake Superior State University, which just issued its 38^th collection, confirmed what I expected. Everyone wants to get rid of ‘fiscal cliff.’ And with good reason. If we’ve learned nothing else from the political talk shows, it’s that it’s not really a cliff; it’s more of a slope. And ‘fiscal slope’ just doesn’t resonate like the cliff does.

We now know that we barely toppled over the cliff and were hauled back up. The most feared part of that plunge, the increase in income taxes, would have been leveled off in January anyway. Once we had gone over the cliff, or down the slope, or into the swamp, Republican Congressmen would have voted for a decrease in the just-raised taxes, instead of having had to vote in December for an increase (to the exact same levels). Maybe now we can get rid of ‘the blame game,’ too, and move forward.

I’m picking up ‘kick the can down the road’ from LSSU’s list, since Congress seems to have done that with the deficit. My list of fiscal culprits also includes ‘short-term fix.’ What we need is a long-term solution, along with a catchy label for it. ‘Durable fix’ sounds like a manufacturing term, while ‘abiding’ sounds archaic, or even religious. Let’s take our cue from the adoption organizations helping to find ‘forever homes’ for animals and find a ‘Forever Fix.’

Getting back to the ‘deficit,’ I’m banning that, too. It has such a negative aura. ‘Shortfall’ sounds better, but it has its own baggage, conjuring up targets not met. Let’s use the simpler word ‘gap;’ it means the same but doesn’t sound as threatening. ‘Gap’ seems less judgmental; it just tells it like it is. The button no longer reaches the buttonhole. Either lose some weight or buy one of those elasticized extenders.

Another word I’m replacing is ‘entitlements.’ Medicare (which I’m on) and Social Security (which I now collect) are, in fact, entitlements, in the sense that I’ve worked my entire life and paid into them and I’m therefore now entitled to collect. But the misapprehension that some lawmakers have created is that they’re somehow gifts. They’re really earned benefits, so I propose we call them ‘Earnefits.’

One of my top candidates that surprisingly doesn’t appear on other lists is ‘Fifty Shades of’ anything. The Grey trilogy, aka the Housewife’s Sex Handbook, has been so hyped and has inspired so much satire, that I think I will gag if I see ‘fifty shades’ again. OK. Maybe ‘gag’is a poor choice of words…

Speaking of housewives: please, Lord, let us be done with ‘The Real Housewives of’ anywhere. Mercifully, ‘Jersey Shore’ will soon be as washed up as love letters in the sand. If only we could say the same for ‘Real Housewives.’ If only.

Another phrase many agree should be shown the door in 2013 (but not LSSU) is ‘Gangnam Style,’ the dance South Korean pop phenom, Psy, does. Most folks think it’s ‘Gangam Style’ (leaving out the second ‘n’). If the dance weren’t ubiquitously annoying enough on its own, its cumbersome spelling would get it banned. Even Psy feels Gangnam Style has run its course. His final performance of it was on New Year’s Eve and he promises (threatens?) to come up with something equally as invasive in 2013.

My final phrase will probably die a natural death, but just in case: fie on ‘Call Me Maybe.’ As with ‘Gangnam Style,’ it’s not just that the song lyric is heard all over. It simply doesn’t make any sense. ‘Call Me Sometime’ makes sense. ‘Maybe I’ll Call You’ makes sense. But ‘Call Me Maybe’? Call me out of touch, I guess.

There you have it: my ten offenders to send to the lexicography locker room for a cold shower in 2013. If you don’t agree with my choices, don’t call me. I’ll call you. Maybe.