But why all these newfangled words?
Why not the old, familiar, comforting words, like the ones you're sure to hear when asking the city's corporate attorney why the answers to my FOIA/public records request for Bicentennial commission finances, due to be handed over on July 8, still haven't arrived on September 6?
Bicentennial commission financial trail? What's two (yawn) weeks (shrug) after 463 days?
September 6 update: Make that 9 weeks since the FOIA record request's due date and 511 days since I asked Bob Caesar to tell us how many books were left unsold, and how much the city's 200-year "summer of love" fest cost.
It's because a healthy vocabulary isn't about intimidation through erudition. Rather, it's about selecting the right word and using it correctly, whatever one's pay grade or station in life.
Even these very same iniquitous, bond-slush-engorged municipal corporate attorneys who customarily are handsomely remunerated to suppress information can benefit from this enlightening expansion of personal horizons, and really, as we contemplate what they knew and when they knew it, all we have left is plenty of time -- and the opportunity to learn something, if we're so inclined.
Since I'm still on vacation -- for all I know, the Bicentennial finances might have been tied to a brick and tossed through a house window yesterday -- today's word isn't a word, but a primer on fried clams.
Can you guess what I've been eating?
A Clam Institution Worth Its Weight in Bellies (The Atlantic)