I suddenly wondered if I was using "hunkered down" correctly in my headers. Is it redundant to use the two together? Is it enough to say that I am hunkering in my house during the pandemic? And, yes, I do have too much time on my hands to wonder and ponder which, for some reason, are pronounced differently.
Hunker is a Scots term, first noticed by linguists in the 18th century. An online dictionary described it this way: "squatting on the balls of one's feet, keeping low to the ground but still ready to move if necessary."
I haven't hunkered since my spinal injury two years ago. I can neither squat on the balls of my feet, keep low to the ground, or move if necessary. I can crouch, if necessary, but struggle to get back up again. I could say that I am "sitting down, somewhere in Wyoming." But that doesn't quite capture our present plight. Hunker implies that I am responding to a threat, something that makes me want to take cover instead of stand or sit.
Other languages recognize "hunker." In Dutch, it is huiken. In Old Norse, huka. Germans say hocke. The Scots have even turned a verb into a noun with the phrase "sitting on one's hunkers." All civilizations, it seems, have had to huka down at some time in their history.
Ben Zimmer explored the history of "hunker down" in a September 2017 Wall Street Journal feature. Hurricane Irma had blasted through the Caribbean and U.S. and Zimmer noticed the many times that TV reporters used the term "hunker down." Orlando Sentinel editor John Cutter noticed an uptick in "hunker down" as Irma approached Florida. He invented a drinking game in which every mention of the now-cliched phrase prompted listeners to take a shot. A neat idea but probably redundant as Floridians are pretty good at taking shots during hurricanes, especially monstrous ones such as Irma. A hurricane and a pandemic share a lot of qualities. Hunkering seems appropriate in each case as does a few shots of Jack.
Our neighbor Colorado found this out the hard way. Denver Mayor Michael Hancock announced that liquor stores and marijuana dispensaries would be closed to thwart the spread of COVID-19. This caused a furor and the ban was lifted. The Governor tried something similar with his order to close all bars and restaurants. He later agreed to let businesses sell booze as takeout along with the tacos and sushi.
We don't have marijuana dispensaries in Wyoming. We do have lots of liquor stores. Our Governor has spared closing establishments with full retail liquor licenses. A good thing as it's inconceivable to have everyone hunker down for weeks or maybe months without the proper beverages.
For accurate updates on Coronavirus in Wyoming, go to the page for the Wyoming Department of Health's Infectious Disease Epidemiology Unit. As of 11 a.m. Sunday morning, Wyoming has 86 reported cases. Fremont County leads the pack at 23 with Laramie at 19 and Teton with 14. The Wyoming Public Health Laboratory has tested 1,203, commercial labs have tested 436 (they are bound to only report positive cases), and the CDC lab has tested 1.
Notice how these last two links take you to state government offices. Some sites may not be maintained by state employees but their info comes from people who regularly get kicked around by GOPers in our state legislature. City and county employees pick up our trash and maintain infrastructure. Federal employees will be working overtime to make sure millions get the checks stipulated in the recently-passed stimulus bill. They also maintain Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid, so crucial in this time of plague.
4 comments:
Mike, yes, Hunker DOWN is fine. I had no idea there was a history of this. The things we learn during a pandemic. And it seems that sales of home bunkers are way up (along with gun sales of course). That really puts the "down" in Hunkered Down.
What I have noticed in the KC area, which is under an official lockdown, is that more people than I have ever seen are getting out for walks with their dogs, their kids or just themselves. Nice to see.
Bob
Wonder what being hunkered down would have looked like in Gainesville in March 1976? No classes, no parties, no basketball (a contact sport on our hard court), and roommates staying six feet apart. No making phone calls at Stormy's house so as not to infect the landlady. A different world. I think it was that spring break that I rode my bike to Daytona. Social distancing of a different type -- until I got to Daytona and my parents' house swarming with people. No St. Patrick's Day at the Silver Bucket! When I saw those spring breakers partying on Clearwater Beach, I thought that the beach would be the place to be. Paddle my board out beyond the waves and just sit and watch University of Michigan sophomores swapping germs and getting second-degree sunburns.
1976 Gainesville-the roommates would not have stayed 6 feet apart. Would make no sense given us sharing bathroom, kitchen, etc. And certainly Stormy would have wanted us to hang out and use the phone, right? Sure! Now keep in mind, no internet, no PC's, but hey, 2 Typewriters! And I think by then our free cable had been turned off. That started when I noticed a cable line hanging from the roof outside and hooked it up just to see what happened....and it worked. Got a year or more out of it until they very unkindly turned it off without notice. By the way, I had lived in Chicago and KC before Gainesville, but that was the first time I had ever had access to cable TV.
My biggest fear would have been running out of that awesome Gainesville Green. And we might have been able to get the other roommate Bob to drive us out to Payne's Prairie to hunt for mushrooms.
And yes, remember the friendly chaos of the Shay Daytona Beach house. The one with the in ground swimming pool,one block from the ocean. And air conditioning. Still can't believe I went my last 2 years in Gainesville without AC. Or heat. Or a car, though I still have in the basement the Schwinn Continental that got me around Gainesville.
As my son said, his generation is made for this so long as they have electricity and the internet. And guess that goes for me too.
Bob
Banging away on my portable manual typewriter. I still bang away on my laptop -- maybe that's why I've been through so many of them. The last one, though, a nice little laptop that got fried by spilling on the keyboard a nice imperial porter. No beer, no laptop.
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