What’s the Word: Is it a bomb or a blockbuster?
It’s odd how words are coined to describe one thing, and then come to be used to represent something totally different. Being a movie lover I’ve always wondered where the term “blockbuster” came from. I’ve heard several theories over the years, one being that the movies are so popular the lines at the ticket window extended around the block. That one actually sounded kind of logical to me, but turns out that’s not it.
According to one of my favorite word sites, the Word Detective, the real origin is rather grim, but demonstrates the basic psyche of the advertising industry. Seems the term came about during World War II as Royal Air Force slang for an extremely large type of bomb, which could amount to as much as 8,000 pounds of explosive, which was so powerful it was capable of destroying an entire block of buildings. In the 1950s, after the war, advertisers appropriated the term and added it to their superlatives along with terms like “astounding,” “incredible,” and “revolutionary.”
So I suppose in the past shops could have “blockbuster sales events” or “blockbuster discounts,” but these days the term seems to be used mostly to describe a movie (or sometimes a book or play) that is a hot ticket, and usually makes obscene amounts of money in the bargain.
I do find it kind of ironic, though, that if a big-budget movie doesn’t do well at the box-office it is said to have “bombed.” Hmm, maybe those Hollywood metaphors aren’t as mixed as we thought.
Growing up in the country, something we call rural areas today, I’ve always loved some of the terms and phrases we “countrified” folk use to describe things, food in particular. Some of these phrases are sort of falling by the wayside, which I personally think is kind of sad.
Take “sweet milk” and “light bread” for instance. Not that long ago, most people who lived in the country had a milk cow, and most people kept both regular milk, called sweet milk, and butter milk in the refrigerator. Back then you had to specify what kind of milk you wanted. It seems to me people today don’t ask for sweet milk much anymore, they just say milk and it’s understood you don’t want the curdled thick stuff.
Light bread is in a similar situation. When I was a kid, light bread meant store-bought bread, as opposed to cornbread which is what we mostly had for supper. When you sometimes had sandwiches made with light bread for supper it was kind of a treat, even though I loved hot cornbread with butter on it. Nowadays we don’t refer to store bought bread as light bread much anymore. We just go to the store to get a loaf of bread.
I came across all this as a result of a search for a term that the Standard’s circulation director Bill Cathcart tossed at me.
“Why do they say a ‘bate’ of turnip greens,” he asked. I had heard the term before, but couldn’t remember in what context. I didn’t think it was meant to describe a bunch of turnip greens, but I did recall it had something to do with that particular vegetable. After a search on the Net I came upon an article that brought it all back. Seems if you cooked up a “mess of turnip greens,” and that’s what my mom called it, and you ate all you could, then you’d had a “bate of greens.” According to this country terms pundit, you could also use it for other things, like, “I’ve had a bate of your sassy mouth.”
Now, I’m not sure of the spelling, or the accuracy of this explanation, but it seems right to me. Does anyone out there know for sure if that’s right or whether that’s the correct spelling? If you do, drop me a line at the paper or the e-mail address at the end of this column and let me know.
I’ve had a bate of trying to figure it out for myself.
Charlie Johnson is news editor of the Standard. He can be reached at 473-2191 or by e-mail at [email protected].