Come On Down

I'm happy to report the madness seems to run in the family: Over the holidays it was revealed that my sister's family, for obviously esoteric reasons, is enamored of the word "vouchsafe." Admittedly, despite always loving the word mainly for its look (admittedly, too, I've always had a tough time pronouncing it, somehow instead of saying it vouch-safe, I tend to garble it as vow-chafe, which I believe is a condition many young aspiring priests suffer from), I had to look the word up to get its full meaning. Basically it means "to condescend," although as the venerable A Dictionary of Modern American Usage by Bryan A. Garner points out, it is now commonly/erroneously used for "to bestow or grant."

Which all leads to the bigger question: What's so wrong about condescension? I guess here in America where all men (and women) are created equal, and especially here in modern America where if one is perceived to be or acts as if one is above anybody else, there will be hell to pay and then some, the very notion of condescension, especially the act of asking one to condescend, is rather odious. But I believe the word condescend used to have a much less negative connotation/denotation, and I believe there can still be a use for this particular connotation/denotation. So, even if the word condescend has too much negative baggage these days, thankfully we still have the word vouchsafe, and I believe we need to use it more often.

Certainly in prayer (remember that oldie but goodie, folks) it is proper and probably safer to address one's higher power in such language. Oh Powerful One, please vouchsafe to us, You who have such a plethora of more important concerns on Your Hands, and bestow upon us peace, health, sustenance, and a championship for Cleveland. If anyone's going to get his/her knickers in a twist about the Supreme Being condescending to him/her, I advise looking into some flame-retardant duds with an eternal guarantee.

But God isn't the only one we can call upon to vouchsafe to us. We might all be born equal, but in the real world, we aren't. Say what you will about Tiger Woods, but the man can still play golf. If I'm lucky enough to find myself playing in a pro-am with him someday, I believe the proper way to ask him for a pointer or two to help me cure my snap hook would be to say, "Hey Tiger, can you vouchsafe to look at my humble swing and tell me what the hell I'm doing wrong here?"

Barack Obama's got three hundred million people to worry about, and half of them think he's Karl Marx himself, so if I should somehow find myself at a State Dinner (the one I think he's planning for overworked booksellers who love Bob Dylan and bacon, covered in chocolate!), I think it would be appropriate if I said, "Hey Prez, you mind vouchsafing a bit over here near the bacon, covered in chocolate! troughs so I can give you my thoughts on health care and those lousy White Sox?"

If Bob Dylan himself would ever vouchsafe to play his song "Never Say Goodbye"--a song he's never played in public and one of my no arguments brooked all-time favorites--at a concert I am attending (and if God could then simultaneously vouchsafe to beam the late Rick Danko down to the concert stage to re-create his awesome bass lines [with all due respect to Tony Garnier]) I would probably shut up all my vouchsafing pleas for a Cleveland championship for the rest of my life, the thrill would be that great.

Anyway, maybe we should all practice a little vouchsafing by taking a good look at our lives, recognizing the various high horses we ride on, and make the effort to get off them and come on back down to Earth a bit. In other words, as a mere baby step, I don't hate Mark Johnson; I just hate having bad Cleveland winter weather hectored at me.

Thanks for taking a few minutes out of your busy day and vouchsafing to read my babble.

Bob Dylan and The Band-Never Say Goodbye