What Does That Mean?

Once in a while we all come across words of which we don’t know the meaning. It’s normal, but for a basically educated person, it shouldn’t be common. I am an educated man, but I try not to use big words just to prove it. I have known those who have done so as a regular practice, but I feel as with extreme body building and overblown attempts at beautification (working hard to make oneself look beautiful) this is an attempt to salve a low self esteem. I believe that communication is the highest goal of the use of words and using unnecessarily complex terminology can be a big road block to true and effective communication. Even now I am wondering whether I have employed reasonably understandable verbiage for that which I am trying to convey. Oh, well, I will continue.


I recently spent some time on the Gulf beach in southern Alabama. Alabama, as most Americans know is one of the southern states. In fact, being on the Gulf of Mexico, it honestly has to be one of the most southern states. The South has its own way of speaking … let’s face it; they have their own way of thinking, too. I once came across a northern college professor who said openly in a class that when he heard someone speak with a Southern accent, he immediately felt that their IQ was no higher than 60 (very low for those who don’t pay attention to these things). I took offense to that then as I do now. You see, I come from the South. I know southern people. I know that though they talk with a drawl that runs slower and sweeter than honey, they are as a rule fantastic people. So, getting back to that teacher, it’s a good bet that this particular Southerner has a higher IQ than him, and I know many more who would rival his Northern bred intellect as well as schooling. With all that said, to the rest of the world, the South doesn’t really come across as … lets’ just say it, “smart”, no matter how it grates on those of us who claim the heritage. This leads up to the story to be told.

I was on the aforementioned beach in Alabama. I was enjoying myself immensely. I was flying a kite. I love kites, and the beach with its breezes proves to be prime kite flying real estate. The kite I was flying only resembles the kites of childhood inasmuch as it sails in the air. This type of kite is called by more than one name. It is sometimes called a power kite, because when flown, it produces a very strong pull. This pull is used by some to propel themselves on karts, buggies, boards in the water and whatever else they can dream up. It is also called a parafoil due to its shape when inflated and flown being that of an air foil or wing. The “para” part comes from the most common use of this type of air foil which is in high performance parachutes. It is also called a stunt kite as it is flown with two control lines, which when manipulated, can cause the kite to climb, dive, and spin. This kite, however, when flown by a novice in a stiff breeze, say 25 mph, can also aggressively swoop very low to the ground at high speeds at the end of very taught, unbreakable control lines, and even violently crash.

Knowing the possible tendencies of the kite, especially in my inexperienced hands and the breeze being more undeniably a wind, I had scoped out a section of the beach that had no inhabitants and very low traffic. After first spotting this area, I watched it for a while to make sure that it was truly an unwanted part of the beach. It was perfect. It was here that I would fly my kite. So I did. It was comical at first. Not for me actually, but for anyone who may have been watching. Slowly I started to get a bit of a handle on the process and was truly enjoying myself. At my will, mostly, it would climb and swoop and loop and, of course, sometimes “violently crash”. It was still a good thing that I was in a deserted part of the beach. No one had bothered me and people had stayed clear until over my shoulder to the rear quite a way back, I heard a sound. The sound was quite; shall we say “Southern”? The sound was actually a word. Though the sound occupied at least three seconds of time, it was only one word.

It is at this time that I must thank, with all my heart, the team of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. They are, of course, Jeff Foxworthy, Bill Engvall, Larry the Cable Guy, and Ron White. If not for them, you as a reader could never even come close to imagining what the following conversation sounded like.

So, to get on with the story; by employing my Southern upbringing, I was able to determine that the sound/word I heard was a rendition of the word, hello. In this form, however it took on a near melodic form as it stumbled from her lips. The phonetic spelling of her utterance would be huh-loooOOOoooo. Sorry, that’s the best I can do, but understand that the lower case to upper case and back to lower case represent the pitch change as her very pronounced drawl strung out the syllable.

I ignored it the first time because I was intent on keeping the sucker in the air and figured, or at least hoped that she was talking to someone else, or maybe trying out a new bird call. Shortly thereafter, though, I heard it again. “Huh-loooOOOoooo.” It was now that I knew that I had to take notice. Multitasking was now in order. I would try to turn my head to see whoever it was, interact with them, and keep the kite under some semblance of control. As I turned my head, I noticed a woman in her forties and four teenagers walking right toward the “danger zone”. It seemed obvious that her aforementioned utterance was to let me know they were coming and that they didn’t intend to change their course. In hopes that I could encourage them to rethink their choice of routes, I yelled over my shoulder, “be careful, I’m a novice.”

Her response was, “whu-u-u-u-U-U-UT (what)?

I restated louder and with a little more affirmation, “I’m a novice!”

“Wuz zat meeEEEEEeeeen (What does that mean)?

It was here that a million possible answers ran through my mind, like:

“It means your IQ probably is 60.”

“It means I’m surprised you have as many teeth as you do.”

“It means you didn’t finish high school and if by some stretch of the imagination you did, you definitely did not deliver the valedictorian address.”

“It means you married your brother, or at least dated him a few times.”

“It means you are the epitome of what outsiders call the ‘stupid South’.”
I know, more words that she was probably unfamiliar with.

But, I refrained from denigrating her and said, “It means I don’t know what I’m doing.”

No response. Nothing. So I explained, “It means, this kite may crash at any moment and hit you.”

This got the response of, “oooooOOOOOOooooooh (oh)!”

So they came—walking right on through the “dangerous fly zone.” I would like to say I couldn’t believe it, but after my recent interaction, I honestly could believe it. What I can’t believe is that I didn’t expect it. This “novice” was able to keep the kite in the air, however; at least until they were past, but shortly thereafter, it “violently crashed”. It’s a good thing this kite is virtually indestructible. I know, “wuz zat meeEEEEeeeen?”