Saturday, May 4, 2024

"Skei" the "Skit" In All Its Stereotypical Figurative Extensions

 



Sam Stone

By John Prine

Sam Stone came home,
To the wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knees.
But the morphine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.
Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And soon he took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And the gold roared through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes...

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.

Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon,
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair.
Well, he played his last request,
While the room smelled just like death,
With an overdose hovering in the air.
But life had lost it's fun,
There was nothing to be done,
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill,
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill.
But life had lost it's fun,
There was nothing to be done,
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill,
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill.

There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.
 

My father when angry with my lack of knowledge or skill used to say,"You don't know shit from Shinoa." Although he and I both knew that was idiom popular in the day. However, he was right because I did not have the slightest idea. The phrase took me back the other day as I realize I am 73 years-old and still don't know what Shinola is. So I googled it and found out Shinola was a brand of shoe polish previously manufactured in the USA. The alliteration of the expression 'doesn't know shit from Shinola' partly explains the derivation. Also, without putting too fine a point on it, the two things named in the expression could possibly be confused. However, only one of them would be good to apply to your shoes and only particularly dim people could be expected to muddle them up." Problem solved.

Dad and many others would also say when someone was in a difficult situation that he was "up a creek without a paddle." I understood the person was in a difficult situation without a common means of motivation when this idiom was applied; however, how would the guy have made it "up" that creek without a proper paddle in his possession in the first place.? It would seem that he had left the paddle for some idiotic reason because creeks, at least in my experience flow "downstream," not up.Wouldn't it make more sense to say I was "down a creek without a paddle" in a bad situation? A paddle is a means of resistance serving mainly an up-stream purpose.

And then you have the infamous phrase describing someone who knows nothing or very little about something or someone. That person lacking expertise is told by another, that he "doesn't (don't) know Jack Shit." Is Jack a supposedly well-known person everyone is supposed to immediately identify with, or is the conveyor of the bad claim suggesting the offender knows quite a bit but absolutely nothing in conjunction with "jack," this offensive surname. Again, I confess to not knowing "Jack" about the inference. All I can say is that the saying isn't complimentary.

I'm pretty sure "I don't know shit" is an admittance to complete ignorance about a subject, but oftentimes it is accompanied by the plea of someone saying I have to "know shit" about a truckload of things I believe I fairly do understand (at least in definition). I, at the very least understand "some shit" about the evidently complicated procedures of operation. In fact I know some "shit" very well. I think saying is meant to reduce a human to subhuman abilities to learn anything. So sad.

I personally have never been caught out in a "shitstorm" but if I ever am, you can bet all your "good shit" (best possessions) I would holler "Holy shit!" about the stinky predicament and run inside immediately. But, what if the storm was pelting down "some good shit" like twenty dollar bills or diamonds? I guess I would then risk weathering the shitstorm and collecting my fair share of the bounty because everyone seems to want to add to his "good shit" even if talking about such a situation "scares them shitless."

I would change the saying to "scared to shitting" because, again, a scary situation is apt to leave a little stain in my underwear. For instance encountering a bear on a hike would likely make me "shit my pants," even if the experience tightened my sphincter muscles to the size of a pinprick. And before we leave the "bear" analogy, I know do that bears must "shit mainly in the woods" because I have never encountered bear scat on Main Street. I'm fairly positive they must enjoy the peace and solitude of dropping their loads in more natural settings.

I cannot even imagine a person literally "talking shit," but in a figurative manner I have encountered many a human doing so. Some people become so involved in talking badly or bragging about something or some one ("trash talking" or "talking crap") that you feel as if excrement is foaming from their mouths. Some even "lose their shit" in a rant and become uncontrollable upset. Maybe that mouthful of shit comes more from the gut than from their brains. Research it? It stinks.

So, many bullshitters (Not this entry, there is and entirely different analysis for "bull" etymologists.) "talk shit" when they lie. Then, after hearing the falsehood, the person  tries to deceive those who talk the stupid shit by saying in anger: "Stop shitting me, you bastard." Of course many deceivers develop habits of lying by smoking, swallowing, or ingesting "shit" (illegal drugs) so profusely they act crazier than "bat shit" all the time. Some are even said to develop "shit for brains.) Addiction to heroin, for example, is akin to eating tons of feces to the point of being hooked on its consumption.  Now, that is as crazy as having a "bat in the belfry"-- yes, truly bat shit crazy.

I do not comprehend why someone would compliment any other person by telling him "you’re the shit" and meaning the recipient has deserved high praise. If I am "in shit," I'm in a bad situation. But somehow this idiom implies that the other person is amazing and worthy of being the best. In other words in the same vein, the "shit" is not only acknowledged as being exceptionally intelligent but also one of a kind, a peerless "shit" if you will.

I must confess that "I'm getting my shit together" today to share some fun and a "shit-load" of contemplation. Who really "gives a shit" I am writing this dribble? Probably, no one. However, if "the shit hits the fan" and soils your image, simply stop reading about this defecation. How is this piece being received? "Shit, I don't know." 

But, be aware because everyone knows "shit happens" and we must avoid it and drive on. No two people live with the same "shit" with which to deal. My advice may be incomprehensible to the massed. Yet, maybe ... just maybe ... some of these trite sayings and ornery usages will "loosen up your day" and make it a little more comfortable. 

After all, we all do it. We have to drop our loads with great frequency to age in good health. Some evidently consider their vanity more than others. After all, even those who are the "shit" (Donald Trump is said to have a golden throne. I also hear he is a notorious farter.) but that is a subject for another day. May the stink allude you even if you consider yourself to be "the shit." Good luck to all of you favorable folks who just seem to do the "right shit" at the right time. I admire your cleanliness and humbleness if nothing more.

In addition, I hope you all become "hot shits" in your chosen fields. Just keep it real and understand "everybody's shit stinks." Give a shit but don't take shit from those who are nothing but "pieces of shit" themselves. Whatever you do -- don't "eat shit," "shit on others," or "run shit out of luck." It may be a world full of shit out there and difficult to deal with at times, but keep your crocks shit-less. I pray no one must "shit a brick" as I have had that experience before during gut-wrenching episodes on my personal Squatty Potty, which I recommend to problem shitters. For real.

And, remember the great John Prine's lyrical advice: "little pitchers have big ears." I know I have learned something today about how to handle "my shit." Be careful how youth interprets all of the connotations and denotations of today's subject matter. There is a shitload of knowledge to be sorted out, read, and understood in this shitty world. Even the wise old owl largely keeps to himself and is said to understand difficult situations.

"A wise old owl lived in an oak,
The more he saw, the less he spoke
The less he spoke, the more he heard,
Now, wasn't he a wise old bird?"

-- English language nursery rhyme. It has a Roud Folk Song Index  number of 7734 and in The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes, 2nd Ed. of 1997, as number 394.

I'll end by saying, "the old bird knows his shit." So, seek understanding always, but never forget the importance of experience and rumination. It might just clean up your act. Prine's Sam Stone could not deal with the shit in his brain, and we, somehow, sympathize with his odorous and personal decisions to correct his life. God bless. No shit. (I couldn't resist, sorry.)



 

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