cooking goats with gas, grins, and shinola
Lockport winter, 1958. That’s my gram. We did not cook with gas.
Growing up in one of the few places wedged between Buffalo, New York and Canada can be a bit of a sheltered existence at times. I’m not talking about weather, although we typically got a lot less snow than our friends in South Buffalo. Some in my family would say they deserve to have more snow because they’re Polish—Polocks is what they’d call them.
I’m not even sure what that means. Other than their names being marginally harder to spell than my Italian ancestors’ (with a much higher ratio of consonants to vowels), I’m not sure I could tell the difference. But that isn’t the point. The point is that in Lockport, New York, the people you meet are generally from Lockport, New York. Some may have migrated from as far as Newfane or Medina, but the bulk of the population is pretty local. And despite what fake Facebook articles might have you believe, people don’t typically move to places like Lockport.
That’s not a slight on my hometown or the people who live there. Lockport has a shit-ton of character and its own special charm that makes it simultaneously comforting and a little unnerving. That said, I think it’s fair to say that moving to Nashville exposed me to more people from more places than staying in Lockport would have. And with those people came some funky expressions. Expressions that—like the idea that Polish people deserve more snow—make me scratch my head.
See what I did there? You thought I was going to write about ethnocentricity and local prejudices and I flipped it around. What I really want to write about are “old sayings” that make no sense on the surface, but people seem to understand them anyway. Let’s start at home.
One of my grandmother’s favorite compliments was, “Now you’re cooking with gas.” I know gas stoves heat up faster than electric stoves. And, truth be told, I prefer cooking with gas. But is that because gas is better or because I’ve been conditioned by my grandmother to think gas is better? Anyone? Be careful how you answer. One of her other favorite sayings was “Son of a bitch!” That one wasn’t a compliment.
Moving on, I heard another bizarre one from a friend I met here in Tennessee. Her name was Sydney. She was from Mississippi and often remarked that people “didn’t know shit from shinola” (also not a compliment). She said it about lots of people. I imagine she may have said it about me once or twice, too. I can sort of figure out what it means, but can someone please tell me what shinola is?
Want more? Okay, last week I was talking to a friend at work and he referred to something called a “goat rodeo.” In context, it sounded like he was describing something chaotic or at least difficult. But how hard can it be to hogtie a goat? It doesn’t even really seem sporting. But maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe a goat rodeo is something else entirely.
Last one for now. Jenni, Emily and I were leaving Tazikis one night after grabbing a bite to eat. I don’t even remember what clever thing Emily said, but the face she made when she said it prompted my brain to conjure the expression, “shit-eating grin.” I think that’s supposed to refer to a prideful satisfaction, but it seems an odd choice of things to eat. Admittedly I’ve never tasted shit, but I can’t imagine it producing anything close to a grin except on the faces of people watching the experience. I would think a scowl or, at the very least, a frown. But certainly not a grin.
Okay. Your turn. Help me out by explaining to me what any of these mean. Better yet, share some of your own confounding expressions. Post more than one and I may reply to let you know you’re cooking with gas!
Cheers!
