Serious Sailing

A co-worker sent an email about an interesting project being undertaken by a farmer turned sailor. What caught my Latin imagination is the name of the boat that will be making its way down the Hudson River: it is called Ceres “for the Roman goddess of grain and agriculture, and also the figure atop the State House Building in Montpelier.” Ceres lives on every time we eat cereal, products of various grains. My own favorite use of cereal is to throw a cup or so into pancake batter, and now that I have finally bought a waffle-maker, cereal will be taken to new levels in my kitchen. My favorite cold cereal is Uncle Sam, and my favorite hot cereal is Red River, which I look for with great nostalgia every time I visit a Canadian market. I have vivid memories of standing by the great wood-burning stove in my grandparents’ cottage on a cool summer morning, watching the Red River bubble and boil until it was thick enough to eat, topped by brown sugar and milk. A serene cereal experience!

Plumbing the Heights

When I walked into my school building for the first time in August, I saw on a co-worker's car an oval Euro-style sticker with the letters Pb, with the place-name Leadville, CO in small letters on the bottom edge. Those familiar with the periodic table of the elements will recognize the abbreviation for lead (Pb) from the Latin noun plumbum, plumbī n. lead. I learned from my co-worker that Leadville is the town at the highest altitude in the United States, a fact which caused another flash of insight. Leadville has a high altitude, from the Latin adjective altus, a, um high/deep. I think of lead as a heavy element used for plumb lines to measure depth, and yet Leadville rises high in the Rocky Mountain State.

A Classicist Writes the News?

I received in the mail today the 29 July issue of The Weekly Standard, my favorite weekly magazine. In the Scrapbook section was a short article called J-School Follies, in which the director of the Annenberg School of Journalism at USC is quoted, “But I think I would have trouble going into any newsroom today with a degree in classics.”—yi! This is why I love reading TWS; I hope you will judge for yourself.

Cool Cash

Canadian currency has become interesting in the past few years. Coins are colorful and commemorative in many ways. This year at Canada Post I found gift sets of coins (lacking pennies for the first time in Canadian history) to acknowledge weddings and births of 2013. At $19.95CDN (+ 15% HST, i.e., harmonized sales tax), these gifts are a pretty solid money-maker, as the combined total of the coins ($2 + $1 + .25. + .10 + .05 = $3.40) plus the expense of the card, plastic sleeve, and envelope surely amounts to far less than the $19.95 price. The set for babies includes a quarter with a pair of little bare feet on the reverse; the wedding set quarter has a pair of intertwined rings. Perhaps in the distant future these sets will accrue some value. But what catches my eye even more than the images is the inscription in Latin around the portrait of Queen Elizabeth II on the obverse of every Canadian coin: ELIZABETH II D. G. REGINA, standing for ELIZABETH II DEI GRATIA REGINA, translated ELIZABETH II QUEEN BY THE GRACE OF GOD. A Canadian dollar is a coin with a loon on the reverse; they are known as loonies. The newer two-dollar coin therefore has the nickname of toonies. I keep a handful of toonies, loonies, quarters, dimes, nickels, and now outmoded pennies on my desk at school for instant access to international, current Latin.

Language on the Offense

I love the use of language terms in this poem, and I hope to find out more about John Agard's study of Latin.

Pandora's Vox

Yes, you read the title correctly. I heard a marvelous harpist, Alys Howe, at the Boxwood Festival concert in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia this week. Searching for more information about her recordings, I found also that Alys Howe had performed with a group called Pandora's Vox. A typo, I thought, until I watched a video about the group. Pandora's box is the mythological container that held both all the world's woes and hope. Why would a woman's choral group call itself Pandora's Vox? The Latin noun vox, vocis f. means "voice;" does this group sing of all the world's woes but also offer songs of hope? Searching a little more I found that one of the members of the Vox is named-- Pandora! From vox, vocis we also have in English vocal (pertaining to voice), and the trade name Magnavox means "great/big voice." The Latin verb vocō, vocāre, vocāvī, vocātum means "I call (i.e., use my voice)," and gives us all of the -voke, -vocative, and -vocation words: avocation (a calling away), convoke (I call together), evoke (I call out), invoke (I call on), provoke (I call forth), vocation (a calling). Pandora's Vox is provocative!

Trojan Swimmers

A brief mention in the Halifax Chronicle Herald alerted me to HTAC, the Halifax Trojan Aquatic Club. Founded in 1967, the centennial anniversary of Canada, the club dominates the competitive swimming scene in Atlantic Canada. Although I could not find a reason for their choosing Trojans as their name, the phrase in English to work like a Trojan has meant to work tirelessly to achieve a goal, such as the Trojans faced in keeping off for ten years the combined forces of the Greeks. I guess these young athletes are swimming like Trojans, and good luck to them! One last note: the HTAC practices in the Dalplex, the athletic center at Dalhousie University in Halifax. The combining form -plex is very productive in English from the Latin verb plicō, plicāre meaning "I fold," and appearing in words like duplex (two-fold), multiplex (many-fold), complex (folded-with/together), and complexity (a folding-with/together), and slightly more disguised words like accomplice (one folded-together-to/toward), explicit (out-folded), implicit (in-folded), replicate(make fold again), simplicity (single-foldedness), multiplicity (many-foldedness), and complicitous (full of/having to do with folded together).