Whatever…

The New York Times, bastion of all the news that’s fit to print, and then some, opened a recent story with the sentence “Whatever happened to Ron Paul?”  Somewhere on the staff of that august publication there must be editors who know better. 

In that sentence, as in the classic movie What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, what  and ever should be two words.  What is an interrogative pronoun, requesting information about “the identity, nature, or value of an object or condition,” and ever is an adverbial modifier meaning “over a period of time.”

The same paper in another story indicated that Mitt Romney will do “whatever it takes” to win the Republican nomination.  Maybe so, but at least this time they got whatever right. In this case it is properly one word, a pronoun meaning “anything,” “everything,”  “no matter what,” or “other similar things.” For example: Whatever I say, you tell me to “shut up” or I enjoy Chardonnay, bock beer, single-malt whiskey, or whatever.

The one-word whatever can also be an adjective, meaning “of any kind” or an adverb meaning “in any case.”  For example: I’ll take whatever money you have or There is no point whatever in your resisting because I have a gun.

Contemporary usage of the one-word whatever, following a question and usually accompanied by a rolling of the eyes and/or a shrug of the shoulders, is adverbial in this sense, with an added connotation of “why are you bothering me with this?”

What ever became of the Bard of Buffalo Bayou?  Whatever.

            Mitt Romney on the Campaign Trail

           

            I’m not concerned about the poor,

            They have a safety net.           

            Ten thousand dollars says that you’re

            Not going to take my bet.

           

            I really like it when I’m able

            To fire the people who

            Repair my cars, install my cable,

            Or give me a shampoo.

            You’re out of work? Now, listen—shucks,

            I, too, am unemployed.

            Of course, two hundred million bucks

            Does help to fill the void.

           

            My income taxes cause me pains—

            Almost fifteen percent!

            I try to save my capital gains

            (But some of them I spent).

            I do get speakers’ fees and such

            At places I appear,

            But they don’t amount to much—

            Just half–a-mill last year.

           

            Corporations?  They are people,

            Just like me and you.

            Just wait—that Democratic Veep’ll

            Claim that isn’t true.

           

            My love of sports goes to extremes,

            I love to cheer and yell,

            I follow almost all the teams

            And know their owners well.

            How often do I wish again,

            That I could catch a flight

            To see those trees in Michigan—

            They’re just the perfect height.

            Home ownership? We need much more

            To make our nation thrive,

            Why, I myself own three or four—

            Or possibly it’s five.

           

            Obamacare’s abomination,

            I really do abhor it,

            With just one tiny reservation:

            In my state I was for it.

            For the price of gas we owe great thanks

            To Democrats who tax:

            It makes it hard to fill the tanks

            Of all my Cadillacs.

            On my lawn crew, I told their foreman,

            Hire no illegal alien.

            After all, I am a Mormon—

            And not Episcopalian.

            They say I’m like an Etch-a-Sketch,

            But, heck, that’s just plain nutty,

            When there’s a fact I have to stretch,

            I’m more like Silly Putty.

            As for that dog, atop my car

            To Canada—I swear,

            It really wasn’t all that far,

            And the dog just loves fresh air.

           

            You won’t find more, if you should delve

            Much deeper into Romney.

            Just vote for me in 2012,

            And I mean Anno Domini.    
    
   

Name That President!

Could the names of Presidential candidates hold any clues as to their suitability for office?  Probably not.

For example, the Bush family name is Anglo-Saxon and refers simply to a person who lives by a bush, probably meaning a wine merchant, since the image of a bush adorned the customary sign for a vintner. Clinton is Old English for a “fenced settlement,” derived from the town of Glympton in Oxfordshire.  And Reagan is Irish, meaning son of Riag (“king”), or “little king.”

Nonetheless, it’s interesting to probe the onomastics of current Presidential politics.

Take Romney.  Please.  I mean take the name “Romney.” Its origin is a bit obscure. Some sources say it’s Norman and first showed up in the 11^th century in a village in Kent over which Robert de Romenel presided. Others say it’s of Welsh origin and means “a winding river.”  And yet another learned scholar opines that it’s Anglo-Saxon, derived from rum, meaning “spacious” and ea, “river”—i.e. “Big River.”

Santorum is from the Latin word sanctus, meaning “saint,” of which sanctorum is the plural genitive, which would mean “of the saints.” Other Italian names like Santorini and Santorello stem from the same root.

Paul, as in Ron, derives from the Roman family name Paulus, which means "small" or "humble" in Latin; an English cognate is the word few.

As for Gingrich, it’s of Swiss Mennonite provenance, originally Günderich, meaning “power battle,” or words to that effect. Gunderic was also a 5^th century Vandal chieftain.

At the back of the GOP heap, Perry has several possible origins.  It could be a derivative of the Latin peregrine, meaning “wanderer,” “traveler,” or “stranger.”  It might also originate in the Anglo-Saxon pyrige, or “pear tree,” meaning a person who lived near such a tree. Perry may also have sprung from the Welsh ap Herry, meaning “son of Harry or Henry.” And yet another possibility is the Norman French perrieur, or “quarryman.”  You pays your money and you takes your choice.

Bachmann could be German, Catalan, Polish, Hebrew, or English in origin and what it means depends on the language.  In German it would be either “baker” or “person who lives by a stream.” The latter is also its English meaning. In Catalan, it would mean “a dark or shady person.” In Hebrew it derives from ben chayim, or “son of life.” And in Polish it’s somebody who comes from Sebaste, a town in Turkey.

Finally, Huntsman is more or less what it sounds like—an English name meaning either a man who hunts, or the servant of such a hunter.  The candidate will probably opt for the former.

Oh—and what about our sitting President?  Obama is derived from the Dohluo language spoken by the Luo ethnic group in Kenya.  Bam means “bent” or “slightly curved” or “crooked,” and O- means “he.”  Many Kenyan names begin with O- (just like in Ireland).  The best guess of most linguists is that the name Obama originated with one of the President’s ancestors who was bow-legged.

Bow-legged or not, the Bard of Buffalo Bayou hobbles lickety-split down Dactyl Drive to Anapest Avenue, laying waste to sundry poetic monuments in his path.

            Will long-running Romney

            Be the GOP nom’nee?

            Or will it be Gingrich,

            That guy who is bling-rich?

            Maybe Santorum

            Will find folks are for ‘im.

            Or possibly Paul

            Will win it all.

            I do believe Perry

            Is unlikely—very.

            It sure won’t be Huntsman,

            Although he’s no dunce, man.

            And as for Bachmann,

            Ach! Mann!

            Oh, yes—poor old Cain

            Found running was vain,

            The same as Pawlenty

            Who quite early had plenty.

           

            Best stick with Obama,

            Or the Dalai Lama.