PASSIONATE RATIONS

I love word memories.

That is, I have a particular fondness for words I specifically recall learning.

For instance, I learned the word “transvestite” in junior high.

I had checked out a book from the Lakewood Library in Tacoma, Washington.   It was a paperback that I found in the “Young Adults” section.  I don’t recall the title, or even the plot, except to note that blue jeans and harmonicas played prominent roles.

When I asked my mom what the word meant, she promptly asked where the heck I had heard it.  Commendably (censorship being particularly odious to my sensibilities), she didn’t go running to the library screaming invective at the librarians who had obviously mis-filed the book, nor did she insist I return the book at once or risk lifelong grounding.  I don’t recall if she explained or had me go look it up, but I haven’t been the same since.  For a short while, I thought I might be one, since I spent the better portion of my girlhood wanting to be a boy and shunning dresses in favor of short hair, blue jeans and t-shirts.  And then there was Rocky Horror Picture Show….

Anyway, while the link between transvestism and food may be opaque to you, it’s clear to me if only because I also have similarly specific word memories for the words “gourmet” and “gourmand.”

Once again, the print media is to blame.

Someone (most likely my parents) made sure I had recurring subscriptions to National Geographic’s World Magazine.  As I recall it (and this was long ago now), the magazine sometimes featured pictures illustrating various words.

In one such instance, there was a series of three cartoon-y pictures labeled, respectively, “gourmet,” “gourmand” and “gourmoo.”

The first illustration I don’t recall exactly, but I think it must have shown a well-heeled sort with an exquisite setting of food and drink before him and perhaps a turned up nose.

The second was an obese personage with copious amounts of food piled before him and a look of ecstasy on his face.

The third was a happy Holstein cow in a T-shirt, also about to tuck in to a feast.

The last of these was, obviously, a joke. But, apparently, the presentation got the meaning across well enough.

While I may not be a transvestite, I do like to think of myself as both a gourmet AND a gourmand.

And I like cows a lot.

Reading.  Never underestimate its impact on your life.

So, too, with eating….