Newsgroup: it.cultura.linguistica.inglese
Titolo: Dictionary of American Regional English (D.A.R.E.)

From the New York Times Magazine:
    On Language by Frederic G. Cassidy and Joan Houston Hall
(Frederic G. Cassidy was the chief editor of the Dictionary of American
Regional English until his death in June, at age 92, shortly after he wrote
this column. His collaborator, Joan Houston Hall, is DARE's associate
editor. William Safire is on vacation.)
A dictionary that can help you out.
President Clinton's staunch refusal to give up his own regional vernacular
has frequently left members of the Fourth Estate confused -- or 'flummoxed',
'bumfuzzled' or 'ferhoodled' (as they say in some regions of this country).
Reporters were baffled when Clinton proclaimed that his staff members were
there to work for the American people and "not to 'throw off on each
other'."
And when he said of a dissenting major general that "he doesn't know me from
'Adam's off-ox'," many were admittedly 'in a swivet'.
Where do bewildered reporters (or others) turn for clarification? To the
heartland, to flyover country, to the land of 'bakery, bubblers and brats'.
To
the makers of the Dictionary of American Regional English (familiarly known
as DARE). In Madison, Wis., we and a staff of 12 work with a massive
collection of the words, phrases, pronunciations and grammatical
constructions likely to be brought to Washington by the regionally speaking
folks who represent the 50 states. Our files make it easy to explain Orrin
Hatch's 'hissy fits', Ronald Reagan's 'squoze' or Al Gore's 'rip-tootin' '
presidential race.
In offices located on the campus of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, we
sift through the words and phrases collected between 1965 and 1970 when
fieldworkers fanned out across the country to ask native-born Americans what
words they used for the simple realities of their daily lives: "What do you
call the rolls of dust that collect on the floor under the bed? What joking
expressions do you have around here about snoring? Of someone who seems
quite stupid you might say, 'He hasn't sense enough to ---- ----!"' In
addition to the 2.5 million responses gathered in this way, we have the
collections of the American Dialect Society (established in 1889
specifically to make such a dictionary as ours) and a huge file of
quotations excerpted from American newspapers, diaries, novels, plays,
histories, government documents and ephemeral publications. All of these are
used to illustrate the words that go into the dictionary.
But who (other than folks like the usual writer of this column) would ever
have a use for a book like DARE? Word lovers, of course. But are there any
practical uses for a work like ours? We've discovered that there are.
Suppose you grew up in Madison, went to the excellent university in this
city, stayed on for medical school and then found yourself somewhere in the
southern Appalachians for your first job. Your patients might complain of
having the 'ground itch', or 'dew poison', or 'sore leaders', or 'kernels',
or
'pones'. How would you react? These aren't ailments you learned about in
medical school. If you had a dictionary of regionalisms on your shelf, you
could slip out, look up the word and come back knowing what questions to ask
next.
Or suppose you were a forensic linguist, as is Roger Shuy (formerly of
Georgetown University, now cozily ensconced in the mountains of western
Montana). Further, suppose you were asked to read the manifesto of the
Unabomber or another at-large miscreant and to provide a profile of him
based on his language. You might conclude, as Professor Shuy did, that law
enforcement investigation is aided by reference tools like DARE: "I keep my
three volumes of DARE very handy to my desk along with my unabridged
dictionaries, dictionaries of slang, usage texts, regional dialect atlases,
encyclopedias and other important reference works. I find it invaluable.
Needless to say, it would be even more valuable if it went beyond the letter
O."
If you were a psychiatrist or psychologist, you might give some of your
patients a standardized test to diagnose aphasia. They would be asked to
give names to a series of illustrations of everyday objects. You would find
it extremely useful to know, for example, that the musical instrument played
by blowing across a series of holes isn't only a 'harmonica'; it's a 'mouth
organ' in much of the country (especially the Inland North, Central
Atlantic,
South Atlantic and Southwest), a 'mouth harp' (particularly in the South
Atlantic, North Central and Western areas) and a 'French harp' as well
(especially in the West Midland, Texas and the Central part of the country).
Why should you care? Because the answer key to the test is highly unlikely
to recognize any regional or social variation in the naming of common
objects. And if your patient from Mississippi calls a pair of stilts 'Tom
Walkers', you need to know that that is a normal, expectable term for them
in
that part of America. If you don't, your patient will be marked "wrong" and
could end up with a misdiagnosis simply because he used his legitimate,
regional English.
And what about all you librarians? We always assumed that a reference like
DARE would be invaluable in answering the weird and wonderful questions that
come your way. And Kathleen Glaser, from the reference room at the Putnam
County Library in Cookeville, Tenn., proved us right: "A library patron
wanted information on 'dry-land fish'. We looked in every 'fish' book we
could
think of, to no avail. As the patron kept repeating that this fish 'grew in
the woods,' . . . I finally got to wondering if this was a regional
expression. And of course it was: a 'dry-land fish' is an edible mushroom."
Not to be outdone, oral historians also find uses for books that can bring
life to the words of our grandparents: What did it mean a century ago to put
'a flea in someone's ear'? 'To be on your beanwater'? To 'honeyfuggle with
your
jimpsecute in the keeping room'? Writing from the Institute for Oral History
at Baylor University, M. Rebecca Sharpless tells of listening to tape
recordings of Texas regional dialects and finding similarly unfamiliar
words: "We exhaust the standard unabridged dictionary, then we turn to the
DARE. . . . Nineteen times out of 20, what we're looking for is [there.]"
On that 20th time, when DARE doesn't have the answer, we turn the tables and
ask others for help. Our Web site
(
http://polyglot.lss.wisc.edu/dare/dare.html
) has lists of words and phrases
that have us stumped. While we might not know something from Adam's
housecat, for you it might be small skimption to figure it out. Give it a
try.
Copyright 2000 The New York Times Company
--
I remain, as always, ecc., ecc.,
Bambi
dtb

'a flea in someone's ear'?
Spooky, possum... we have the identical expression in Italian, and
it's still pretty much in use. I wonder, do the two mean the same
thing in both languages? 
Bye,
-- 
Isa
Work like you don't need money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
And dance like no one's watching
http://web.tiscalinet.it/alfabeto_auschwitz/

 Spooky, possum...
As Dame Edna Everage would say. How thoughtful of you to make our Australian
and New Zealand friends feel at home. One wonders if they have a different
expression?
--
I remain, as always,
Bambi
dtb

 thing in both languages? 
Gidday sport, come si dici in italiano quest' espressione then?
 I am worried by the mention of a century, I know I'm not that old and I
have heard that expression and used it myself. Perhaps we hold onto
expressions longer down here in the quaky isles.
My book of old idioms says: A flea in one's ear. An annoying suggestion;
an unwelcome repulse. 
"I wouldn't do it, if it was ever so!" exclaimed Mrs. Jennynge ...."You
try it yourself, and see if he doesn't put you down pretty quick, or
send you flying with a flea in your ear"     (James Payne)
Toodle-oo,
Loki

Is this the same in Italian?
It isn't, my Queen.
mettere una pulce nell'orecchio significa instillare un dubbio, un
sospetto.
Jago is a champion in this sort of things.
adieu
Chrisa

Is this the same in Italian?
Not really, no. *sigh*
"Metter la pulce nell'orecchio" ,
(an idiom too, of course!) means "to vaguely hint at something", in a
conversation or similar circumstances, to raise the listener's
interest without really coming clear about what is (not) being said. 
Does it not, my fellow countrym... er, people?


 Does it not, my fellow countrym... er, people?
Not being a true paesano, I respond of my own volition.
From "2001 Italian and English Idioms, 2nd Edition:
---------------
Italian Expression
pulce -- flea
una pulce nell'precchio -- a flea in one's ear (a nagging suspicion).
Con quel che hai detto mi hai messo una pulce nell'orecchio.
What you said put a flea in my ear (gave me a nagging suspicion).
English Expression
flea -- la pulce
a flea in one's ear -- una rispostaccia
I'll put a flea in her ear, if she asks me one more time.
Le risponderò in malo modo se me lo chiede ancora.
-------------
Interestingly, at least to myself, I would have given a response somewhere
between these two (we must recognize that the authors of this book Daniela
Govetti and Robert A. Hall are just two Joes with a publishing contract). I
would have said it means "to remind someone about something to the point of
annoying them." For example, "Dont worry, I'll put a flea in his ear about
calling you to set up an appointment."
Perhaps my reaction was just a personal perception, a misperception, or the
result of the mixed culture of my upbringing (Italian family on the fast track
to assimilating US culture). However, in my feeble attempt to fully research
this topic, I asked a professional editor. Although American, she gave as first
reaction the same definition as our intrepid contributor, Isa. Confusing, ehh?
I think we have a case here of creeping signification, and that may be what the
writer of the NY Times article meant to communicate. I expect that various
meanings of the phrase are acceptable to people and dependent on the context of
its use.
Ciao,
Ron
USA

 have a different expression?
Dear Bambi,
For spooky or possum? ;-)
Personally I like 'spooky' as a term as used by that esteemed Australian
'Dame' and use it whenever I can but alas I fear the Kiwis are not so up
with the play and seem to think of it in a more intense way than I do.
Oh well, language use wasn't changed in a day.
Possums here are a major pest since they eat all our native trees and
seedlings. The trees here being much yummier than their own Aussie
originals. Still they get used in cute ways on TV (usually roads figure
in them ).
cheers,
Loki

 expressions longer down here in the quaky isles.
Dear Loki,
The quaky isles aside, you need have no (little) fear of the citation of the
century. The undersigned also, has and presumes will continue to have, had
occasion on which to use the expression. Somehow though, I find the Italian
meaning of the idiom more logical. Mixed signals from a bi-lingual
upbringing?
--
I remain, as always,
Bambi
dtb

 sospetto.
Dear Cristina,
Thank you for the clarification which as I have just had occasion to note
seems more logical to my ear, but then who am I.
    > Jago is a champion in this sort of thing[s].
LOL


 (an idiom too, of course!)
Dear Isabella.
Well, fancy that! the expression is an idiom in Italian as well, you mean to
say? I never!
Jest aside, thank you for the information.
--
I remain, as always,
Bambi
dtb