Further reading informed me of a fictitious rabbit character in the comic “Bloom County” named “Hodge-Podge” who is “extremely conservative and fanatical about most things, though often ignorant and naive about just what those things are.” He later had “an affair with Rosebud the Basselope, resulting in Rosebud’s pregnacy with jackabasselopes.”

There is, of course, hodgepodge.com, an apparent placeholder domain for a mysterious startup called Product Pipe, Inc. They are seeking investment capital in case you may be interested.

There are the Hodge Podge Cottages located on Caddo Lake in Uncertain, TX. Caddo Lake’s claim to fame is to be “the only natural lake in Texas and by far the most mysterious.” I’m quite sure it is.

And don’t forget the Hodgepodge Society, who’s website invites you to “Please, by all means, depress our royal crest to enter.” Perhaps another time.

So as you can see, a hodgepodge of information about the word “hodgepodge” is available to you should you seek it. In fact, one might say the Internet is a great hodgepodge of information which does, in many ways, resemble mutton broth with vegetables, or perhaps a litter of jackabasselopes.

Until next time…

Using “party” as a verb means to revel or carouse, and back in college this typically involved drinking, drugs, and dancing. I’ll tell you which one of those activities was my favorite: none of them. “Partying” to me was synonymous with “having a rotten time with drunk stoned people who can’t dance”. Times have changed, thankfully, and so has “partying” (notice I keep putting that intransitive verb in quotation marks). I’ve made progress developing my “partying” skills, but it’s a struggle, and I still cannot use “party” as a verb. I think it’s really holding me back.

And then today I came across another word, a verb, that was used in such an earnest way that I again realized why I am still uncool and always will be. The word was “clubbing”, as in to go to a series of nightclubs and, presumably, “party” while there. The first thing that came to my mind when reading that word “clubbing” was a white baby seal being clubbed on the head by an evil hunter. So not cool.

I’ll never be one of the cool kids, but at this point I’m too old to care. To the kids out there who are reading this and who also have trouble using “party” and “clubbing” as verbs, I give you these simple words of encouragement, “Rock on! You are totally awesome!”

What is this, the heck?

This one from my wife:

I was once followed by a wild hog.

Carrick: CARE-rick. Accent is on the first syllable. Rhymes with Derrick and Eric.

Mundell: mun-DELL. Accent is on the second syllable. Rhymes with “oh hell.”

Also note, Carrick is my given name, though I understand the confusion as it is more often a surname. It’s of Gaelic origin and is somewhat common in Scotland, Ireland, and England. There’s a winery in New Zealand called Carrick, from which I’d like to try a bottle someday, and there’s a guy named Carrick Gerety who is leader of the L.A. band Everybody Else. He has a Gmail address similar to mine and sometimes I receive his email, which has proven quite entertaining.

I never feel slighted or annoyed when my name is mispelled or the pronunciation butchered. It’s a difficult name. It’s also completely unique as far as I can tell. I seem to be the only “Carrick Mundell” anywhere.

Carrick-bitts, the upright pieces of timber near the ends of the windlass, in which are the gudgeons for the spindles to work on: they are also called ‘windlass-bitts’.

Carrick bend, a knot for splicing two ropes together, formed by looping the two ends to be joined, and interlacing them, each going at every intersection, now over, now under, the other.

Carrick, obs. forms of Carrack, Forms: 5-6 caryk(e, 5 carikke, careke, karik, carrik(ke, carryk(e, carrake, carryg, 5-7 carak, carack(e, carrike, carricke, 6 carake, caryck, (caracte, carect), carrek(e, 6-7 carike, carick(e, careck(e, carracke, carreck(e, carrick, carrak, 7 (carract), carraque, 7-8 (caract), 7-9 carack, carrack. [a. OF. carraque, caraque = med.L. carraca, carrica, carica, Sp., Pg. carraca, It. caracca (whence also MDu. ka'râke, now kraak), of uncertain origin; see Diez.], a large ship of burden, also fitted for warfare, such as those formerly used by the Portuguese in trading with the East Indies; a galleon.

My oldest daughter used to be fond of asking “Right now?” whenever I would talk about something in the future. For example, “We are going to Nana’s house pretty soon.” To which she would retort, “Right now?” With which I would reply, “Pretty soon.” This would go on and on. But one day, out of complete frustration, I came up with the following phrase which became a joke between my wife and I and has been uttered frequently at those moments when you feel your sanity breaking apart. It goes, “Pretty soon it will be right now, but right now it’s pretty soon.” After I said it, my wife and I cracked up, and our laughter infected our daughter, and she too joined in the fun even though she had no understanding of what I had just said. At least, I don’t think she did.

Bабушкa means grandmother and the form бабушку indicates something happens to grandmother. Meanwhile, полохматить appears to be a slang verb. Given the nature of Russian slang, I think it’s likely something nasty is going to happen to poor dear grandmother. If I had to guess I’d say it means “to rub out granny”? or “to clean out granny’s nest egg.”? (Hopefully, it’s not something more lascivious than that.) Or perhaps a semi-literal translation of the phrase completely misses the point? Rather like trying to translate “Let the cat out of the bag?” I really shouldn’t have given away my Russian text books.

Update: the phrase полохматить бабушку is likely a reference to Dostoyevsky’s _Crime and Punishment_, specifically to Raskolnikov’s dastardly bludgeoning of his landlady.