JUST CLICK HERE!
I know every year there are new
words added to the dictionary.
Some are old words that are
being “refurbished” and some are a
combination of new and old words
that we know, now being used as
something other than what we
would expect. Part of this new crop
are onomatopoeic, which by itself is
a word I can barely pronounce. For
those of you who are like me and
need an explanation, onomatopoeic
words are described as a vocal imi-tation
2022
February of the sound associated with
it, for example hiss, buzz or boom.
Lately, I have found myself a bit
intimidated by just one of these
¢words – click. What’s with click?
Like a roach the click just keeps
COURIER Everywhere I turn I need to click.
on multiplying. That word is really
Really? What am I getting myself
starting to affect me.
into when I click? My first expe-rience
Research showed that click, in
with clicking started at an
its primitive form was “klikken,”
TOWERS early age and made me cautious.
and of Dutch origin and was used
When I was five or six, my mom
as early as the 1500s to actually
had an elderly friend that had an
describe the sound of a click. I
annoying habit of clicking her den-tures.
personally like the Dutch word for
SHORE I remember her teeth were
cake – “kuchen” -- much better and
always moving around. What did
I’d like it with a little ice cream
I know about dentures at that age?
on top, please. How perceptive of
NORTH I thought she had an affliction that
people at that time to find a need
made her teeth movable. When she
for the word click. What did they
spoke slowly it almost sounded
need it for? I don’t think there were
16 like Morse code. When she was
computers in those days, maybe a excited she was like a flamenco
dancer with castanets. Could I
have been fearful that maybe one
day when she kissed me, she might
leave her teeth attached to one of
my little chubby cheeks? Could
the memory of those clicking teeth
be causing me to have flashbacks
now? I’m not sure. If I knew then
what I know now, maybe I might
have been kinder to my own teeth.
At least, so far no clicking.
As I think back, years later I
remember another so-so experi-ence
with clicks, and that was with
the telephone “party-line.” I always
listened for that sound of a click
when someone picked up to listen
to my “important” conversation as
a teenager. On the other hand, I
wasn’t much better. I perfected that
click to a silent sound when eaves-dropping
on my sister while she
was rapidly yakking away in Pig
Latin with her friends. I thought
she was so good with languages
because she spoke Pig Latin so
well. Actually, she won the Spanish
and French awards at high school
graduation but sadly, none for Pig
Latin.
Thankfully, I was click deprived
(I didn’t know how lucky I was)
until fifteen years ago. At that time,
I discovered online shopping. I was
so excited with my first purchase.
I remember buying some items
that were on sale at half the price
I would be paying for them else-where.
I happily placed an order for
six identical things and clicked six
times. Mistake! When they arrived
at my home in six individual pack-ages,
I wound up paying more for
the cost of shipping than the price
of the items. I still have angst about
that.
I don’t have as much concern
these days when responding to
requests on the computer, but I feel
I do everything with a slight touch
of trepidation. Unfortunately, not
too long ago I validated this sense
of apprehension. While making
an appointment for my first set
of COVID shots that were almost
impossible to find, I didn’t click to
confirm. Everyone else I gave the
website to got their appointments
immediately. I couldn’t find anoth-er
site near me until seven weeks
later – unless of course I wanted
to go to some God forsaken place
at the end of Staten Island and
leave home at 3 am for a six hour
round trip. My grandson stayed
up around the clock to find that
bargain but I know he really loves
me because he also stayed up the
next night and found another
place nearby. I put him in a better
spot in my will after that episode.
To me, that mistake I made with
my non-click was like the shot
heard around the world, because
not clicking correctly could have
done me in. I’m damned if I do
and I’m damned if I don’t. I now
consider myself click-phobic. Do
you think I’ll get over this fear? Is
there a click therapist out there that
might specialize in this new tsou-ra?
Would that be a “clicknician?”