Thank you for using one of my favorite words — “glommed.” I wasn’t certain it was a real word as I’ve only used it speaking. But now you’ve given me definite proof!
It seems that it began life literally meaning "steal" but evolved to mean (as I think we mostly use it) "appropriate." With a side order, I think, of "vacuum."
Living, as I do, almost walking distance from the Rio Grande river, I've had my share of people tell me "What you're actually saying is 'the Big River river,'" and no, that isn't what I'm saying. "Rio" doesn't mean "river" in English, the language I'm speaking. I speak Spanish well enough to order wine and tapas and find the bathroom and if in the course of doing that I had some reason to say where I live, I'd say "rio" only once, but in English I'm perfectly comfortable with "the Rio Grande river," "the La Brea Tar Pits," and "the hoi polloi" (as long as they don't tell me how to talk about the river I live next to).
The Three Stooges, of all people, did not include the initial article in their 1935 short film, "Hoi Polloi," in which they are transformed, "Pygmalion" style, from poor shmegegges to poor shmegegges in tuxes for a high society party. The opening credits of the film spell Jerome Lester Horwitz's nickname as "Curly" while the lobby cards spelled it "Curley."
I would have to rewatch the short (not exactly a burden, to be sure) to remind myself whether the phrase, when it is finally uttered (toward the end?), is used correctly or incorrectly.
At some point I had to disabuse myself of the idea that the hero of the musical Oklahoma! is Curley, when he is in fact Curly. (I might have been conflating him with Laurey with an e.)
Amusingly enough, in the '80s class comedy Caddyshack, a nouveau-riche character mocks a commoner who has gussied himself up in hoity-toity nautical couture by declaring, "Ahoy, polloi!"
Thanks for this lovely write-up. I'll be using "the Greeks had a word for it" as a filthy euphemism all week.
For some reason the current use of “nonplussed” as “unbothered” always reminds me of my grandmother, who when speaking of my brother’s mightily disliked first wife would always say “and butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth”—which strikes me in retrospect as oddly physical for one of the most determinedly ladylike people I’ve ever known.
I've always found that phrase alarmingly vivid. I also recall that the first time I saw it was in a review by a late and mostly unlamented theater critic who said, of a particular actress, "She looks as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, or anywhere else."
One of my favorite lines in Caddyshack (perhaps because it's underappreciated) is when Spalding shows up at his grandfather's yacht club, condescendingly greeting one of the caddies who's dressed in a white captain's hat and double-breasted navy blazer with: "AHOY, polloi!"
I'm pretty sure my Anglo-Irish mother thought "hunky dory" was American English for "hoi polloi". I loved it.
I love knowing this.
Posts like this are why I love you. (Hmmm. That’s probably an inaccurate use of the word “love” since we don’t know each other.)
Let’s try again:
Posts like this are why I relish reading every word you write.
❤️ [emojis are sorta kinda okay for this sorta thing]
😊
Thank you for using one of my favorite words — “glommed.” I wasn’t certain it was a real word as I’ve only used it speaking. But now you’ve given me definite proof!
It seems that it began life literally meaning "steal" but evolved to mean (as I think we mostly use it) "appropriate." With a side order, I think, of "vacuum."
Living, as I do, almost walking distance from the Rio Grande river, I've had my share of people tell me "What you're actually saying is 'the Big River river,'" and no, that isn't what I'm saying. "Rio" doesn't mean "river" in English, the language I'm speaking. I speak Spanish well enough to order wine and tapas and find the bathroom and if in the course of doing that I had some reason to say where I live, I'd say "rio" only once, but in English I'm perfectly comfortable with "the Rio Grande river," "the La Brea Tar Pits," and "the hoi polloi" (as long as they don't tell me how to talk about the river I live next to).
And then there's the whole Sahara desert thing.
I'm less comfortable with the Sahara desert, but that's mostly because I hate being hot.
Samesies.
The Three Stooges, of all people, did not include the initial article in their 1935 short film, "Hoi Polloi," in which they are transformed, "Pygmalion" style, from poor shmegegges to poor shmegegges in tuxes for a high society party. The opening credits of the film spell Jerome Lester Horwitz's nickname as "Curly" while the lobby cards spelled it "Curley."
I would have to rewatch the short (not exactly a burden, to be sure) to remind myself whether the phrase, when it is finally uttered (toward the end?), is used correctly or incorrectly.
At some point I had to disabuse myself of the idea that the hero of the musical Oklahoma! is Curley, when he is in fact Curly. (I might have been conflating him with Laurey with an e.)
Good point; Moe, in a mock upper-crust accent, says to Curly and Larry, "My dear fellows, this is our punishment for associating with the hoi polloi."
This shady little nook has now been comprehensively floodlit for the benefit of the many.
I can have no excuse for future stumbles.
Thanks again, Benjamin.
I have always believed that what's happening with hoi polloi is that people are mixing it up with hoity toity.
Amusingly enough, in the '80s class comedy Caddyshack, a nouveau-riche character mocks a commoner who has gussied himself up in hoity-toity nautical couture by declaring, "Ahoy, polloi!"
Thanks for this lovely write-up. I'll be using "the Greeks had a word for it" as a filthy euphemism all week.
I have somehow never seen Caddyshack! (Good joke, to be sure.)
I wouldn't hurry to correct that oversight, if I were you.
For some reason the current use of “nonplussed” as “unbothered” always reminds me of my grandmother, who when speaking of my brother’s mightily disliked first wife would always say “and butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth”—which strikes me in retrospect as oddly physical for one of the most determinedly ladylike people I’ve ever known.
I've always found that phrase alarmingly vivid. I also recall that the first time I saw it was in a review by a late and mostly unlamented theater critic who said, of a particular actress, "She looks as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, or anywhere else."
One of my favorite lines in Caddyshack (perhaps because it's underappreciated) is when Spalding shows up at his grandfather's yacht club, condescendingly greeting one of the caddies who's dressed in a white captain's hat and double-breasted navy blazer with: "AHOY, polloi!"
Thank you! I was able to reassure a student that he didn’t need to put the accent or italicize a word.
Italics: no. Accent marks: yup.
Angeleno born and bred, speak enough Spanish that it took an embarrassingly long time to realize I was living near the The Tar Tar Pits.
So if you live in Brea (OC) then you are stuck in tar?
Well, if you live in Orange County, I'd say that you're
Never mind.
I’m nonplussed that I hadn’t known about the word’s drift in meaning.