The Wordsmith

I've been unemployed now for 405 days. What a vacation, right? It's been a costly one, but in order to survive you've got to be on the lookout for a silver lining. Mine has been the pursuit of a dream. You can see from my tongue-in-cheek blog title and description, my outlook is very serious.

Years ago, when I endeavoured to decide my path in life, I did it with as much finesse as a drunken sailor throwing darts at a board. The dart landed, and that is what I have made of my life. As you can imagine, career satisfaction has been optimal. This 405 day vacation has given me the opportunity to pursue a much more satisfying career, that of the Wordsmith.

Merriam-Webster defines the Wordsmith as someone who works with words; especially: a skillful writer.

Allow me to pause for a moment for an aside to this post. I have been spending considerable time with Merriam and Webster in pursuit of this dream. (I find Merriam tedious and Webster riveting) A slightly annoying side affect of obtaining the free use of their considerable work is the ever continuous pop-up ads. I found one the other day scandalous and completely offensive.

Imagine if you will two unclothed individuals with their arms and legs covering forbidden body areas while striking suggestive poses. All for the sake of advertising perfume. I am considering a strongly worded letter to our learned word connoisseurs. You may surmise that I find the content of this ad the object of my offense, but you'd be wrong. What I find offensive is the blatant attack upon our intelligence.

Who are the avid users of Merriam-Webster. Is it the alluring young lady desiring to attract said scantily clothed young man with the perfume? Is it the daring young man imagining the mere purchase of yon liquid for the alluring lady will result in spending time unclothed. I doubt it. The Wordsmith is the one spending time with our dear Merriam and Webster.

His or her passion is consumed in the elusive and proper use of the magnificent word. The appearance of the ad, if it even registers on their psyche, will produce the same offensive result as I felt. Please gentlemen, clean up the ads.

Back to the Wordsmith. I find the English language, the breadth and scope of our words fascinating. Some are outright hilarious. Take for instance the topic of our discussion today. Why in the world would someone decide to call a skillful writer a Wordsmith. Is it the ending, the word 'smith'? A smith is a maker, or in America, the most common last name and my next door neighbor. I wonder how many of them are makers. My neighbor certainly isn't, unless you consider his large Labrador, Fido. He's certainly a maker. Usually on my front lawn.

Most of us think of the Blacksmith. (Another amazingly hilarious word) He or she is a worker of metals. We think of fire, anvils, and a large hammer. When I started writing, I sat down in my chair with my laptop, my potbelly stove, a piece of half inch metal stock, and a very large hammer. (In my case a sledge hammer)

Hun, my wife, asked what in the world I was doing. I told her I was changing careers and planned on being a Wordsmith. She giggled and said, "Call me when you start working. I can't wait to see this."

Insulted, I started with my first word 'potpourri'. After some time in the potbelly stove and some judicious use of the sledge hammer, I subdued that rascal of a word. It won't be showing its face around here any time soon. I illustrate.

The other day Hun placed a bowl of mixed dry flowers, herbs, and spices on the table. When she noticed me sitting down with a bowl of cereal, she snidely remarked, "Be careful, Buster. I just put down a fresh bowl of po.... Now what do you call that again?"

She looked to me for help, but I've already done my work on the word.

"You know, a bowl of mixed flowers, herbs, and spices. What do you call that again?"

I shrug my indifference, mentally cackling with glee, for I have performed the work of a Wordsmith this day. I am well on my way!!