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About The daily Astorian. (Astoria, Or.) 1961-current | View Entire Issue (Dec. 21, 2017)
6A THE DAILY ASTORIAN • THURSDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2017 editor@dailyastorian.com KARI BORGEN Publisher JIM VAN NOSTRAND Editor Founded in 1873 JEREMY FELDMAN Circulation Manager DEBRA BLOOM Business Manager JOHN D. BRUIJN Production Manager CARL EARL Systems Manager OUR VIEW It’s time for new ideas for tsunami survival I t’s good that the city of Long Beach the way of preparations that might save acknowledged reality and stepped lives in something less than a full-scale, away from a flawed plan to build worst-case disaster. However, it would what amounted to a small hill for tsu- be bad to spend millions on a structure nami evacuation. At a cost of $4 million that provides a false sense of security and a height of 32 feet, and turns into a death the city’s concrete berm trap. “Most people was too expensive and Pacific Northwest too short. coastal residents survive tsunamis. It would have been shouldn’t throw up our Put to the test, even better if Long hands in despair and Beach had changed do nothing. they race for course in March 2016, For example: safe ground, when Dr. Christopher • Within a couple scramble up trees Sabine, director of decades, most local of NOAA Pacific schools can and should or manage to ride Marine Environmental be either relocated debris to safety. Laboratories in Seattle, to high ground — as told local officials a Seaside is doing — or Smart planning, Cascadia Subduction built strong enough perhaps far Zone quake is predicted and tall enough to pro- to produce an initial tsu- beyond anything vide vertical evac- nami up to 58 feet tall. uation for everyone mentioned here, U.S. Maria Cantwell, within a 15-minute D-Washington, attended can maximize running radius. This the meeting where is essentially what has these chances.” Sabine spoke and been done in Westport, immediately drew a par- Washington. • Evacuation paths to high ground allel with Japan, where defense struc- might be feasible in most coastal com- tures were under-engineered and proved munities, if constructed to survive the futile against a tsunami in March 2011, violent earthquake that will trigger a tsu- resulting in the Fukushima nuclear nami. And in the meantime, such paths disaster. would be valuable recreational assets. A case can be made for not allow- • Washington’s Quileute Tribe is ing pursuit of a perfect answer get in Crews rebuild and add resiliency preparations after the 2011 tsunami in Japan. relocating its main village to a safer place. Though obviously impracti- cal in the short term for the much more densely coastal towns in the vicinity of the Columbia River, it may be many decades before the next mega-tsunami strikes. A deliberate effort to locate new subdivisions on safer ground — like the one already platted at Ilwaco’s Discovery Heights — can greatly miti- gate loss of life. Finally, it bears remembering that most people survive tsunamis. Put to the test, they race for safe ground, scram- ble up trees or manage to ride debris to safety. Smart planning, perhaps far beyond anything mentioned here, can maximize these chances. grotesque), Biros (ball-point pens, a brand name), woollies (sweaters) and plimpsoles (sneakers). Local now meant a union group, not a favored pub (bar/tavern). Kip (sleep) and loo (restroom) went out the window; cack-handed became all thumbs. Gardens become yards, green thumbs turn into green fingers, skiving off is called gold- bricking, and men’s braces are rather amus- ingly called suspenders, the latter the name for alluring underwear items worn by English ladies to hold up their nylon stockings. But nuance lurked in that dusty news- room; it would clobber my bonce (head) when least expected. In my native land, scheme is interchangeable with program or project. It is a totally neutral word with no negative connotations that someone is trying to con, cheat or defraud. I had to obliterate that pejorative from my vocabulary after inadvertently insulting the city public works director’s pet project. I mean gas. Like potato crisps (chips are fried with fish), petrol is one of my hold-out words. The first house I owned in Southwest Washington was heated with gas (the vapor), so I have always preferred to call heating gas “gas” and car gas “petrol.” Several parts of my car/automobile retain British labels. I comprehend hood and trunk, but bonnet and boot seem more natural. Mechanics understand, but mention of the accelerator pedal draws blank stares; so, too, the gear lever, which I now call the stick shift. GUEST COLUMN A symphony of words resonates in the New World scar Wilde had it right. He reportedly quipped that the English “have really everything in common with America . . . except, of course, language.” I am frequently reminded that he had a point. As a transplanted Briton, I still have communication issues. Sometimes I just cannot make myself understood. When, at 23, I readied to flee the despon- dency caused by Margaret Thatcher’s ascen- sion and settle in the New World, I realized I would need help assimilating into the Western states. I bought a British-American Language Dictionary and toted it in my hand luggage that day I touched down at Sea-Tac in 1980. My linguistic adventure began when I married my American sweetie Patrick and landed my first job Webb in Camas, Washington. Working as editor of a weekly newspaper was a perfect opportunity for a first-generation immigrant to absorb the finer elements of American society and your post-colonial ways right away (“from the git-go,” as my neighbors said). My new home was a mill town, coinciden- tally twinned with Wauna, and then owned by Crown Zellerbach. I learned to pronounce Our Esteemed Benefactor as “Crown Zee,” having been corrected when I called it “Crown Zed.” I never drink and drive, because that’s never a good idea, but also because I can just visualize myself being pulled over by the Peelers and ordered to recite the alphabet to demonstrate my sobriety. After 25 correct letters, I would reach the final one and inev- itably forget where I was. Jail, ridicule and more expensive car insurance would follow. O Inadvertent insults At the newspaper, I set about Americanizing my stories so readers could understand. The owners had hired an Irishman a couple of editors before me, so I followed in his beloved footsteps, embracing drive-up banks and oddities like Groundhog Day. Folks made allowances (“cut me some slack”?). Humour became humor. Favour became favor. Programme became program. Transport became transportation. Those were easy, although that last unnecessary “-ation” WEBB’S BRITISH- AMERICAN DICTIONARY British — American Letter Z (pronounced “zed”) — “zee” rozzers, Peelers, Old Bill — cops, fuzz muggins — sucker grotty — unpleasant Biro — ball-point pen woolly — sweater plimpsoles — sneakers local (favorite pub) — local (union group) kip — sleep loo — rest room cack-handed — all thumbs. garden — yard green thumb — green fingers skiving off — goldbricking braces — suspenders bonce — head scheme (neutral project) — scheme (cor- rupt project) ground floor — first floor first floor — second floor diagonally opposite — kitty-corner (various spellings) crisps — chips chips — French fries petrol — gas gas — gas bonnet — hood boot — trunk accelerator — gas pedal gear lever — stick shift bloke — guy Yanks (all Americans) — Yankees (specifi- cally Northeast Americans) settee — Davenport still causes me to think “ugh!” Calling blokes by their last names instead of Mr. Smith on second reference was easy, though it sounded rather blunt for ladies. I embraced Associated Press style for state abbreviations, military ranks and a consistent manner to write dates, and will never unlearn those. I knew I was saying goodbye to muggins (a sucker), grotty (unpleasant, rooted in Bonnet and boot? All this helps proves Oscar Wilde was indeed hunky dory, and not at all barmy. In Great Britain, politicians stand for office; here they run. British felons protest their innocence, while here they protest their con- victions. In London hotels, the ground floor is called the ground floor, which means the first floor is the second floor. Confused? Tabling a motion in England means delay- ing discussion, the exact opposite of here. Try refereeing sports, where “a foul on Michael Jordan” means he committed the foul and wasn’t the victim. Missing from my trusty dictionary, however, was my late mother-in- law’s favorite slang word, kitty-corner. It took ages for me to realize that meant diagonally opposite. In Great Britain, regular is the euphemism my Mum reserves for mention of bowel movements. Here it refers to myriad stuff, like Coca Cola, and even petrol, by which Corrupted by the Yanks When I write “blokes,” I mean “guys.” On one visit before I emigrated, I recall shopping with my American host near Boston’s Faneuil Hall. He bantered with two attractive female market traders, then inexplicably asked, “Do you guys have any mushrooms?” Four decades later, I use this gender-ignoring plural on trips to England, having adopted it as an affectation. Family members say I have been “corrupted by the Yanks.” Yanks, of course, is a not-always-playful pejorative in England, just as Yankee is in the South here, though Britons mean all 360 mil- lion, not merely those inhabiting the original Northern states. Because this is a family newspaper, I cannot mention the many British words to describe bathroom functions, advanced cud- dling maneuvers, or the naughty bits of gen- tlemen and ladies. You Americans miss out on some doozies to describe your floozies. The classic American phrase that appears in these dictionaries is “comfort station,” which gives Britons cause for chortling when American euphemisms are rolled out. However, I can honestly say that in my trav- els in 35 states, I have never found one! North Coast writer Patrick Webb was born in England but has spent more than half of his life in the United States. He is the retired man- aging editor of The Daily Astorian.