The Language of the Fan

Ah, the Victorian Era. A fascinating time. The Victorians lived in a time of great change, as social structures shifted, exploration, discovery, and invention flourished, and etiquette was raised to a whole new level (a level not matched since in Western culture). The elaborate etiquette rules did not allow for the type of emotional vomiting that is so in vogue today. However, being an ingenious people, they possessed a myriad of hidden languages to convey their affections and intentions. These languages are to be the subject of a series of posts here at Penultimate Grooviness. Over the next week or so, we will cover the languages of flowers, calling cards, postage stamps, gloves, parasols, handkerchiefs, and, today, fans.

You see, even the most well brought up Victorian girl was likely to fall in love at some point in her life. Regretable, but true. Being well brought up, she naturally could not speak of her feelings directly to the object of her affection. She could indirectly, however, "speak" through a variety of means, the most fascinating and telling of which is the fan. Below you see a list of what different gestures really meant.


Holding the handle to the lips - Kiss me (and you thought the Victorians were prudes!)

Letting fan rest on right cheek - Yes

Letting fan rest on left cheek - No

Drawing across cheek - I love you

Drawing across forehead - We are being watched

Carrying in left hand - Desires your acquaintance

Carrying in right hand - You are too willing

Carrying in right hand in front of face - Follow me

Closing fan - I wish to speak to you

Fan open wide - Wait for me

Drawing across eyes - I am sorry

Open and shut - You are cruel

Placing fan on left ear - You have changed

Twirling in left hand - I wish to get rid of you

Twirling in right hand - I love another

Drawing through hand - I dislike you

Dropping the fan - We are friends

Fanning slowly - I'm married

Fanning fast - I love you very much

Closing an open fan very slowly - I promise to marry you

Gently touching one finger to the edge of the fan - I need to speak to you

Covering left ear with open fan - Don't betray our secret

Fanning with left hand - Stop flirting with other women, you idiot.

Closed fan dangling from left wrist - I'm engaged

Closed fan dangling from right wrist - I want to be engaged


And the list goes on and on. This list is by no means comprehensive, but gives you a slightish idea of the amount of things that could be "said" at a typical evening party. Can you imagine having to remember all of this? What if you were really just overheated? Fanning yourself very fast would send a message of true love to some loathsome young tarantula! Or if you were talking to someone you really liked and started absently twirling the fan in your left hand - the poor boy would think you wish him gone and far away! A system frought with potential of disaster! Oh dear...

I hope you're not going to spoil things with lower-middle class humor.

"And if people should mistake me for someone aristocratic, I don't want you telling them I'm not. It would simply confuse them. It's only good manners to let them believe it."

Notting Hill

This unfortunate impasse was breached by the arrival of James the shaggy British accountant.

“Hi girls!”

Hazel and Molly smiled their welcome, and inquired after his latest romantic endeavors (it will be remembered that when last seen he’d been intent on a weekend of “Speed Dating”).

“Oh it was horrible! Complete flop! Luke and I decided to watch the women going into the pub before going in ourselves- good thing too. They were all these nasty biker girls with tattoos and leather. Why do biker girls go speed dating anyway?”

The girls shrugged and said they had no idea. Hazel, who’d come dangerously close to asking why anyone would go speed dating then asked, “So what did you do?”

“Oh, we went back to my place and looked up a few of the internet dating services. Luke wrote profiles for us both, and I’ve met a few really nice girls. I think they’re nice anyway. Never can tell till you’ve met them though. And I’m a bit anxious about meeting them.”

“Shy with strangers?” inquired Molly.
“No,” replied James, rather sheepishly. “Luke slightly exaggerated a few bits on the profile.”

“Slightly?” said Hazel, who was well acquainted with the enterprising Luke and his ways.

“Well, actually he flat out lied about a few things. So I can’t really meet up with the girls with a free conscience. Not unless I actually start training Paws with a Cause dogs and listening to Jewel. Oh,” he tittered nervously “And making six figures.”

Both ladies slapped their heads. Groaning a deep sigh, Hazel asked, “WHY did you let Luke say those things?”

“Oh, well the rest of it was quite brilliant really! He said the most beautiful things, and the internet girls are going crazy over it! One girl said she thought we must be soul mates after reading it! And she was stunning! Blonde and blue eyed…’ He sighed dreamily. “She said that any straight guy who’s favorite film was Notting Hill was destined to be her dream man. What’s Notting Hill all about anyway? I may have been through it once or twice. Some sort of travelogue?”

“Not quite. Rent it. You’ll see.” Molly was highly amused by this latest development in James’ love life, or lack thereof. Who needed soap operas when there was James?

‘Right. Well I’m off- was going to watch football tonight, but I suppose I’ll pop by Blockbuster and learn about Notting Hill.” He puttered off.

An Open House, eh?

So tonight (well, strictly speaking, last night...), I was talking with Paige and B when the conversation came around to an interesting and little dealt-with topic. The topic is that of the Open House. Now, apparently, this is somewhat of a regional "thing". People around here do not typically have parties, nor do they often invite guests for dinner. This is because they employ another method of "socialization" and "hospitality", which is the open house.

Now the correct definition of "open house" is this: an event at which your voluntary presence is mandatory. In other words, you don't have to show up... you just have to show up. The other defining feature of an open house is the food. For any occasion, be it birth, baptism, birthday, graduation, profession of faith, engagement, new house, old house, returning from a trip to anyplace but Branson, recovery from surgery, new job, anniversary, and ultimately death, the same meal will be served with only slight variations. This meal will involve ham buns, meatballs of dubious origin, potato salad, limp carrot sticks, a suspect looking molded jello, and red punch. A dead spread, if you will.

Even the church is not immune; dead spreads were created by the ministering ancient biddies of church catering commitees. And churches often put on open houses, though sometimes under different names. Not sure if your church function is an open house? Was it in the fellowship hall? If so, and if it is not a potluck, it is an open house. However, if the function occurred outside on church property (e.g. the parking lot), it was an ice cream social. What's that? There was no ice cream? And no socializing? Doesn't matter - it was still an ice cream social.

Which brings us to an important point. If you attend a private open house during the fine weather months, realize that the words "open" and "house" are not strictly speaking correct. The hosts welcome you into their driveway, garage, and sometimes their front yard. You will not be seeing the interior of the house. And don't even think about asking to use their bathroom. This is simply not done. Why! You might track dirt into their home! The very thought! Just ease up on the red punch and try a piece of cake. Yeah, cake. Mmmmmm.

'Hebt gij de Krakelwok geveld?

Well, while the rest of you have been engaged in pointless debate over postmil toddlers, I have been engaged in loftier pursuits. Oh yes. You can not even begin to imagine the heights of intellectual thought I have been dwelling in. Because I, gentle reader, have been google-ing random stuff. And the results of this random google-ing are truly astounding. For what I found was so profound, so supernaturally and awe-inspiringly wonderful. I found a site which provides a long-needed public service. The propietors of this site have translated the lovely poem "Jabberwocky" into many languages. The Wycliffes of the borogoves, if you will. And the mimsy raths. Not to forget the slithy toves and frumious Bandersnatches. They have taken this work of linguistic art and made it accesible to those who speak Spanish, French, Italian, Dutch, Esperanto, Afrikaans, Hebrew, Latin, and even the oft-neglected Klingon. What I'm keen to know is why these good people have not received a Nobel Prize for their tremendous contribution to mankind. It seems an injustice.

Happiness

A fun thing happened to me the other night while I was driving to work. My radio was set to the oldies station and upon starting the car, I discovered they were just beginning to play "Old Time Rock and Roll". Well, "Cool" says I, "but I don't particularily want to listen to this song". Thusly, I hit one of my handy-dandy preset buttons to discover that they were playing "Old Time Rock and Roll" as well. In fact, they were about one measure behind the oldies station. This amused me, but I still didn't want to listen to the song. I hit yet another preset button. Against all odds, the third station too was playing "Old Time Rock and Roll", this time being two measures behind the second station. I began to laugh uncontrollably. Then I arrived at work. And that's pretty much the story. So... what do you think about mullets?

Who are you going to be for Reformation Day? Hmmmm?

It's that time of year again! October's finest holiday is fast approaching... that's right, kiddies, Reformation Day. Time to dress up as your favorite protestant leader and eat all that candy that's conveniently on sale for the other holiday. What's that you say? You don't know what to do to celebrate this festal day? You don't know who to dress up as? You don't know what to serve at your Reformation Day dinner? Well, the dears at Old Lutheran have your back. With everything from Marty and Katy Luther bobble heads (boxes double as jello molds!) to ideas for the "Mightest Fortress" block building contest, these folks know how to throw a great party! And in case you are inclined to entertain your guests musically, they have provided the lyrics for that always popular rollicking old favorite, the Reformation Polka.

[Sung to the tune of "Supercalifragilistic-expialidocious"]

When I was just ein junger Mann I studied canon law;
While Erfurt was a challenge, it was just to please my Pa.
Then came the storm, the lightning struck, I called upon Saint Anne,
I shaved my head, I took my vows, an Augustinian! Oh...

Chorus:
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

When Tetzel came near Wittenberg, St. Peter's profits soared,
I wrote a little notice for the All Saints' Bull'tin board:
"You cannot purchase merits, for we're justified by grace!
Here's 95 more reasons, Brother Tetzel, in your face!" Oh...

Chorus:
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

They loved my tracts, adored my wit, all were exempleror;
The Pope, however, hauled me up before the Emperor.
"Are these your books? Do you recant?" King Charles did demand,
"I will not change my Diet, Sir, God help me here I stand!" Oh...

Chorus:
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation -
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Duke Frederick took the Wise approach, responding to my words,
By knighting "George" as hostage in the Kingdom of the Birds.
Use Brother Martin's model if the languages you seek,
Stay locked inside a castle with your Hebrew and your Greek! Oh...

Chorus:
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation -
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Let's raise our steins and Concord Books while gathered in this place,
And spread the word that 'catholic' is spelled with lower case;
The Word remains unfettered when the Spirit gets his chance,
So come on, Katy, drop your lute, and join us in our dance! Oh...

Chorus:
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation -
Speak your mind against them and face excommunication!
Nail your theses to the door, let's start a Reformation!
Papal bulls, indulgences, and transubstantiation!

Fluff

This evening I went out with a bunch of good girlfriends from work. We had a great time - mini golf, which is yet another non-sport at which I do not excel (we're not even going to talk about how bad my score was), and dinner at Logans, where I ate more rolls than was good for me. We then went back to one of the girls' place to eat ice cream and watch sappy movies. It is about these movies that I will now rant. Ahem -

They are unreasonable! PLEASE!!! Life does not happen like it seems to in A Walk to Remember! Way to give young women an unattainable standard! Men do not act in real life like they do in these silly movies. Of course girls get sappy and weepy at these movies - the men act like women! And then said girls can't understand why real-life men don't treat them like Shane West treats Mandy Moore. Guess what, ladies? You wouldn't want Shane West. And you wouldn't want life to be sweet and sugary like it is in a chick flick. You'd end up in a diabetic coma. And then Nicholas Sparks would write yet another trashy book/screenplay about you. Could you live with that? I couldn't.

There. That's my rant for this evening. Lest there be confusion - I really did have a fabulous time, and I love my friends to death. I am so glad I got to have a good old fashioned girls night - I just think I might need to supply the movies from now on. Mix in a little reason with the fluff, you know.

Also - has anyone else noticed what an appallingly large forehead Shane West has? I mean, it's freakish, unnatural, and odd!

Piratical Pontificating

This will make you grateful for Presbyterianism if nothing else will.

A wonderful blessing

Congratulations to Justin and Marion!

Very good, very good.

"He who looks upon a plate of bacon and eggs, to lust after it, hath already commited breakfast in his heart" - CS Lewis

Saltatory Conduction and other Epic Ideas

Yesterday during the 15 minute break in Anatomy and Physiology, I began a short story. The piece, entitled "The Nodes of Ranvier - an epic tale of neurology", chronicles the life of an action potential, pondering the best way to get across the sea of myelin. I am rather fond of this story and find it to be full of both pathos and humor. Perhaps someday when it is finished I will publish it here. I'll bet you can't wait.

On a related (A&P) note - the prof took away the classes favorite word yesterday. For weeks now we have been drilling the muscle name sternocleidomastoid into our heads. My classmates and I agreed that it is the coolest word we ever have learned. So now, the prof tells us that no one in the biz actually refers to it as sternocleidomastoid, but as SCM! What a rip-off! SCM has none of the cadence and briliance of sternocleidomastoid! Alas that medical terminology should turn away from poetic words and turn onto cold, clinical abbreviations!

Is there just the slightest possibility that I'm taking A&P too seriously?

Hail to the victors

U-M 34
MSU 31

Hail! To the victors, valiant,
Hail! To the conqu'ring heroes
Hail! Hail! To Michigan the leaders and best
Hail! To the victors, valiant,
Hail! To the conqu'ring heroes
Hail! Hail! To Michigan the champions of the West!

Johnny's Day - a day in the life of a stereotypical homeschooler

My dear friend Mrs P over at the Ministry of Vocabulary has posted a blast from the past - an article from our wildly sucessful (despite it limited - two copies - distribution) lifestyle mag entitled "Homeschooling - the Sad Reality". This was, as our disclaimer stated, "a newsletter dedicated to revealing the truth about homeschooling. We are also commited to making fun of the stereotypical homeschooler. " Homeschoolers, you see, are oft times stereotyped. As Mrs P herself wrote, "When you hear the word (homeschooler) it automatically brings to mind people very much like the Amish, who love to do their Saxon Math.". As articles are unearthed, they will be published for you to enjoy. Here is Marion's front page contribution.


Hello there! My name is Johnny Blake. I am a homeschooler. This is a typical day in my life. Thanks to my mom, who always does what's best for me, I have a great routine - so all the days in my week are pretty much the same.
Mom wakes me up at 5:30 every morning (On Saturdays we like to be lazy and get up at 6:00). I jump right up, take a cold shower (very good for blood circulation), get dressed in my homemade (even the material) clothes, and run outside to feed the chickens. They are my science project. They are doing very well. Then I come in to have a wonderful and nutritious breakfast of oatmeal and carrot juice. Sometimes Mom gives us a real treat and serves all natural granola. We NEVER eat sugar if we can help it. It gives us the heebie jeebies. We finish our meal with devotions and mutual sharing time. We all sharing interesting dreams we had during the night.
Well, by then it's nearly 7:00 - School time! This is my favorite time of day - next to mutual sharing time, of course. I never have to be told to start my work. I do four hours of Saxon Math followed by another four hours of Saxon Math. Then I work on a few science projects that I have lying aroud. I think the lima bean experiment is pretty neat. My littlest sister Tabitha (the littlest of 14 - I'm 12 and I'm the oldest) often helps me. Then we all sit down to lunch, usually vegatable dishes. Mom says that a vegetarian lifestyle is extremely healthy - in fact, I'm glad she does. Who on earth would want pizza when they could have delicious asparagus served in bean sauce? After lunch we have devotions and another mutual sharing time. We share all the interesting experiences we've had since breakfast. We are all very considerate and take our turns. I always let the younger ones go first.
Well then it's back to school work. I work on some more Saxon Math and then I do other subjects, like history - which I don't really enjoy but still fully apply myself to. The time flies and suddenly it's time for supper - usually something scrumptious like vegetarian lasagna. We close with devotions and another mutual sharing time. We all turn in early, and go to sleep happy in the knowledge that Mom and Dad always do what's best for all us 14 kids. And that's what a day in my life is like. Thank you for reading my humble work!