Good Morning Digital Neighbors! Merry Christmas & Happy New Year! One of the practices I want to rediscover for 2026 is having fun with obscure and lost words. I doubt you'll ever get a chance to use them, but it's often fun to know them nonetheless. Today’s word is a reprint and edit from 2022, when I was doing more daily posts on forgotten and neglected words. The Little Book of Lost Words: Collywobbles, Snollygosters, and 86 Other Surprisingly Useful Terms Worth Resurrecting — Joe Gillard. It was the first of a few books that invited an exploration of language. Buckle up, Buttercup!

Amphigory — Noun | am-fi-gohr-ee | Nineteenth century, English A piece of writing that appears to have meaning but is really just foolish nonsense.

Sentence Usage: Padre liked to post morning thoughts on Locals that purported to be thoughtful, humorous, and reflective, but he often wondered if it was nothing more than amphigory.

Hopefully you chuckled—I did. 😁 It is one of the dangers of being a public speaker (even if it's a captive church assembly) that you think you actually have something to say. It applies even more to writing—especially for all of us grammatically challenged and typo-ridden writers: Do we actually have something worth reading? For myself, when I preach at Mass, speak at some public gathering, or write something for the bulletin or here, I begin with what I need to hear about the topic. Here, it tends to be more the dance between humor, reflection, and my preachy rants.

Either way, assume you probably have something to share. Even if it's not at a speaking event or in writing, there's something about your story, perspective, or experience that is worth sharing with someone. It might be a comment on a post, a meme, or some passing remark at a real-life event. Also assume that others have something to share and, if given the chance, encouragement, or opportunity, they might. While I am very extroverted, I am not a fan of inexhaustible extroverts who never seem to pause for a real conversation.

Rand was one of the regular patrons at Liz's. Rand talked so much that he was often avoided by others because he was a chronic space-invader and breathless monologuer posing as a conversationalist. Not a bad chap, but one who often wore out his welcome 10 minutes into the convo-monologue and wondered why people found reasons to excuse themselves from the verbal mire. To be honest, I doubt he even noticed people excusing themselves—he was too busy finding the next set of ears to exhaust.

While I might unfairly cast aspersions on Rand, I know that as an extravert I can be guilty of overtalking, interrupting, and monopolizing conversations. The mindfulness of that tendency at least gives me a reason to pause and ask if others have something to say. I try to self-monitor as much as possible and gently monitor others in real-life conversations so that the more hesitant or introverted might have an opportunity to talk if they so desire. Happy Saturday, my friends!

It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt. — Mark Twain