One of those phrases
common in my early years which meant, better get the hell out of
here.... and it did. The expression died and no one seems
to have missed it. Its provenance leads me down to many forks.
One path goes to the
notion that skidoo is shorthand for skedaddle which was
a term used in the Civil War meaning retreat with haste. Another tale is that
the wind currents cause a swirl around the Flatiron Building on 23rd St. in
Manhattan causing one to flee. And then there is the claim that racetracks had
room for only 22 horses at the starting gate so the 23rd horse had to
skidoo from its position in the 2nd row.
When I hear 23rd my
mind jumps to the 23rd psalm. From there I wonder about that strange Wordle
word, psalm.
In ancient times it
used to be a verb, to pluck as a stringed instrument. A psalm became any
song sung to the strings of a harp. If we listen, a certain music can be
heard, a rhythm, a pulse to defeat the noise out of which we can create a psalm
of our own.
The keyboard is my
harp. Words are lyrics cocooned as I am in my imagined green pasture
beyond the fray, while preparing a table for distant enemies who have
trespassed on the fellowship I have always known, when we once shepherd each
other.
We have become a
nation in the valley of shadows, skedaddled, turbulent and polarized. Can we
turn that word to pole us across the river?
Another
well-traveled word is rival which came from river. Originally
it meant a person using the same stream as their neighbor and the river was a
shared resource. Sadly, the meaning flipped from communal to competitive and
the parties became rivals.
The tracing of words
foretells the chronicle of man, at least in this 23 skidoo society
into which we have devolved. Sit down, rival, have a piece of fruit. May
breaking news be the bread between us. Let our rod and staff lead us to still
water, cups running over.
Amen!
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