Heavens To Murgatroyd - A Lesson in Prewar Linguistics
 

Do you remember that word? Would you believe the email spell checker did not recognize the word Murgatroyd?
Heavens to Mergatroyd!

The other day a not so elderly lady said something to her son about driving a jalopy and he looked at her quizzically and said "What the heck is a jalopy?"

OMG (new phrase)! He never heard of the word jalopy!! She knew she was old..... but not that old. Well, I hope you are Hunky Dory after you read this and chuckle.

About a month ago, I illuminated some old expressions that have become obsolete, because of the inexorable march of technology. These phrases included "Don't touch that dial," "Carbon copy," "You sound like a broken record" and "Hung out to dry."

Back in the "olden days", we had a lot of 'moxie.' We'd put on our best 'bib and tucker' to' straighten up and fly right'.

Heavens to Betsy! Gee whillikers! Jumping Jehoshaphat! Holy Moley!

We were 'in like Flynn' and 'living the life of Riley'', and even a regular guy couldn't accuse us of being a knucklehead, a nincompoop or a pill. Not for all the tea in China!

Back in the olden days, life used to be swell, but when's the last time anything was swell? Swell has gone the way of beehives, pageboys and the D.A.; of spats, knickers, fedoras, poodle skirts, saddle shoes and pedal pushers...AND DON'T FORGET.... Saddle Stitched Pants

Oh, my aching back! Kilroy was here, but he isn't anymore.

We wake up from what surely has been just a short nap, and before we can say, Well, I'll be 'a monkey's uncle!' Or, This is a 'fine kettle of fish'! We discover that the words we grew up with, the words that seemed omnipresent, as oxygen, have vanished with scarcely a notice from our tongues and our pens and our keyboards.

Poof, go the words of our youth, the words we've left behind

We blink, and they're gone.

Where have all those great phrases gone? ( My Favorite)" Let's all go to the beach Saturday"...

Long gone: Pshaw, The milkman did it. Hey! It's your nickel. Don't forget to pull the chain. Knee high to a grasshopper. Well, Fiddlesticks! Going like sixty. I'll see you in the funny papers. Don't take any wooden nickels.

Wake up and smell the roses.

It turns out there are more of these lost words and expressions than Carter has liver pills. This can be disturbing stuff! ("Carter's Little Liver Pills" are gone too!)

We of a certain age have been blessed to live in changeable times. For a child each new word is like a shiny toy, a toy that has no age. We at the other end of the chronological arc have the advantage of remembering there are words that once did not exist and there were words that once strutted their hour upon the earthly stage and now are heard no more, except in our collective memory. It's one of the greatest advantages of aging.

Leaves us to wonder where Superman will find a phone booth...

See ya later, alligator!

Okidoki.

as long as you don't come out with this one...

> Heavens To Murgatroyd - A Lesson in Prewar Linguistics

Seems all of these have gone the way of "exit, stage left"...

This was just another reminder...for all those who have not taken the time to read his signature line...that Frank IS Vintage.


Viva all us chronologically enhanced fellows!



.

Crackerjack job, Frank! The bee's knees! Spiffy -- spiffy as all get-out!

Was linguistic standard fare in our house. My Dad worked on most of the Hanna-Barbera cartoons of the early Sixties. Most of what you hear will be the voice of the magnificent real life Daws Butler.

ON THE LAM..........

I work as a manager at an independent hotel. A few days ago, I was assisting a guest check-in. His last name was Lam, so trying to be funny I said, "You're not on the lam, are you?" This roughly 30 year-old guy looked at me like I had two heads. I then proceeded to explain what the expression meant.
Apparently, he had never heard that expression in his entire life.

I'm turning into my grandfather.

Cats fur to make kitten britches

Strike up the band - Frank did a masterful job echoing the conversational style and expressions of our everyday communication in the good old days.

Check out the gams on that tomato!

Murgatroyd Darcy,
the belle of Carnarsie,
Went 'round with a fellow named Rodge.
At dancing the rhumba or jitterbug number,
You couldn't beat Rodge at this dodge.

Throughout the cold weather,
the pair danced together,
But when the trees blossomed again,
Miss Murgatroyd Darcy,
the belle of Carnarsie

To Rodgers would sing this refrain:

Leave us go root for the Dodgers,
Rodgers.
That's the team for me.
Leave us make noise for the boisterous boys
on the BMT.

Summer or winter or any season,
Flatbush fanatics don't need no reason.
Leave us go root for the Dodgers,
Rodgers.
That's the team for me.