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Word Watch
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September 1995
Word Watch
By Anne H. Soukhanov
anxious class noun, U.S. workers at all levels of
competence and rank who are overworked and affected by the prospect of
joblessness, whose wages have failed to increase or even to keep up with
inflation, and who may not be valued by their employers over the long term: "A
class consciousness may be emerging from . . . shared anxiety--an awareness
among millions of Americans that they occupy the same unsteady boat, even if
they are doing well in high-paying jobs. Labor Secretary Robert B. Reich . . .
describes `the anxious class' as `consisting of millions of Americans
who no longer can count on having their jobs next year, or next month, and
whose wages have stagnated or lost ground to inflation'" (New York
Times).
Background: Today's managers, support staff, technicians, and line workers all
experience much the same job-related angst. But unlike, for example, Marx's
working class, the anxious class has no identifiable rhetoric or
vocabulary, and no designated enemy. "Instead," as the article cited above
points out, "business is seen as also a victim, caught in a global competition
that forces cost-cutting and layoffs." Anxious class is one more item in
the growing lexicon of an uncertain business climate; another example, recently
explored in this space, is constant whitewater, which refers to the
relentless turmoil faced by corporate managers.
Astroturf trademark, used figuratively to denote advocacy advertising,
chiefly on local television, that has been created to resemble a grassroots
movement and is intended to influence lawmakers indirectly by changing public
opinion: "At a time when there is growing distrust of anything emanating from
official Washington, Astroturf campaigns have the advantage of offering
at least a semblance of populism" (New York Times).
Background: Such "synthetic" grassroots campaigns, engineered by
special-interest groups, are modeled on last year's "Harry and Louise"
television-ad series, sponsored by the insurance industry, in which a worried
couple pored over the Clinton health-care initiative; the series is widely
credited with helping to derail public support for the plan. Astroturf
ads usually depict just-folks characters. For example, in one, sponsored by a
tobacco company and an insurance company with a clear stake in tort-law reform,
an affable senior citizen proclaimed, "Fewer people nowadays are willing to
accept responsibility for their own doin's. . . . I tell you, the system is out
of whack." Experts are unsure of the efficacy of Astroturf campaigns,
but they caution that many more are sure to come.
fat skis plural noun, slang, double-wide downhill snow skis. Also
called fat boards; fatties; training wheels. "Thanks to
the invention of fat skis, thousands of ordinary skiers are discovering
the joy of skiing on powder snow. . . . Because they require far less effort to
maneuver in powder and other challenging snow conditions, fat skis can
add years to a skier's career" (Wall Street Journal).
Background: Fat skis were developed by the Austrian ski designer Rupert
Huber, who cut a snowboard down the middle and mounted downhill bindings on
each half. Huber had noticed that snowboarders are able to float on powder,
rather than "submarining" beneath the surface like inexperienced skiers on
conventional skis. Fat skis, now in a more sophisticated design, are
being used by some ski schools to train beginners; however, they are scorned by
most longtime powder skiers, who consider it cheating to use them.
high-rise cat syndrome noun, the complex of injuries, ranging from
pulmonary contusions to limb and dental fractures, sustained by a cat that has
fallen from a substantial height: "Indeed, for pets as for humans, summer in
the city can be brutal. For this is the season of high-rise cat
syndrome, when pets plunge inexplicably from 20th-story windows" (New
York Times).
Background: More generally called high-rise syndrome, since it also has
involved dogs, ferrets, a turtle, and even an iguana, this condition goes back
in the veterinary-medicine literature to at least 1976, when it was called
high-rise trauma syndrome. According to one veterinarian who has treated
hundreds of survivors, the syndrome occurs chiefly in New York, where the
numerous, often un-air-conditioned high-rise buildings frequently lack window
screens, because the population of flying insects is paltry. Surprisingly, the
farther the fall after a certain point, the lower the mortality rate and the
fewer the serious injuries: cats reach their maximum velocity after falling
about five stories, and begin thereafter to relax into a horizontal position
that slows their fall and distributes the impact. Last summer one cat survived
after falling 46 stories, which is believed to be a record.
Copyright © 1995 by The Atlantic Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
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