Oresome

My son coined a new word the other day. He does that, coining new words or phrases, I mean. For the most part he does it unintentionally - he just uses a word that seems to fit the occasion, and sometimes it fits so well, we keep using it afterwards. For example, there was that time when he looked out the window on a stormy day at the whitecaps on the lake, and said "Look at that rampage of waves!" Well, how much better can you describe what was going on there? As far as I'm concerned, ever since then when there's a high wind the waves are rampaging.

And this particular new word is actually not so much a word as a spelling. He wrote a note to his teacher at the end of the school year, telling her what a great person she was - and what he said was that she was "oresome". Oresome? That's an oresome word. His choice of spelling is a direct result of his favourite leisure time occupation, which involves swinging a virtual hammer in a virtual mine and collecting I-don't-know-what-kind-of minerals to do I-dunno-what with. In his world, ore is a much more common thing that awe, and, I might add, much more practical.

I think "oresome" is a far more useful word than "awesome", any day. You see, something that's "awesome", all it does for you is make your jaw drop (and perhaps make you drool a little out of the corner of your mouth). But something "oresome", that's got substance. There's a little vein of gold running through that rock. Oh, fine, maybe it's aluminum, or iron. But there's some metal to it. An oresome rock is not just any old rock, it's one you're going to search for; it's special and very desirable.

You know, I'd rather have rock and ore than shock and awe, wouldn't you?

Life, the Universe, and Oresomeness. Here's to newly minted words.