A letter from a friend of The Tribune, who prefers to be known only as Chris G from the French Quarter, notes that a lot of Utahns may be visiting the New Orleans Superdome Saturday for the hastily relocated — away from waterlogged Houston — football game between Brigham Young University and Louisiana State.
And he wonders if those visitors might bring the city a gift.
Chris notes that the Utah Jazz professional basketball team began its existence in New Orleans, which explains the team’s nickname, which they brought with them to a city with one of the least jazzy reputations on earth. And, he points out, the succeeding New Orleans basketball team gave its original nickname — the Hornets — back to the city of its origin — Charlotte — and adopted a moniker that, while it doesn’t seem the kind to strike terror into the hearts of rivals, is more appropriate for the city by the sea. The Pelicans.
Chris would like to have the Jazz make a similar gesture to New Orleans. And he gives what he thinks might be a good reason why Jazz fans and management might want to do just that.
“Do they know the word ‘jazz’ is derived from ... chasing prostitutes? You see, jazz comes from New Orleans and has a long history that spans over 150 years, none of which has any ties to Utah.
“Before World War I, there was a place called Storyville, which was the center of prostitution in New Orleans and it‘s also the incubator of New Orleans jazz.
“Yes, BYU is here this week to play the LSU Tigers. Yes, if you attend the game, chances are you will walk by what remains of Storyville. ... And in the process, I wanted to share the truth about the name you claim as your statewide NBA franchise.
“Since it surely has nothing to do with your culture or history, can I ask one simple question?
“Can we have it back?”
Some noodling around Google reveals that Chris’ story is one of several theoretical origins for the word ”jazz,” none of which has been settled upon by experts as the correct one.
“There are more folk etymologies around this word than almost any other, many of them vehemently held in defiance of the evidence,” writes Michael Quinion, a former BBC broadcaster who runs the website ”World Wide Words.”
Other nominees include variants of African words for strenuous activity (which might include illicit sex) and a shorted term for the jasmine flower, often used for perfume (sometimes by, well, you get the drift.)
Of course, after reading an article in last Tuesday’s Tribune — the one headlined, ”Salt Lake City police arrest 50 in weeklong prostitution operation” — it might be argued that the name belongs here after all.
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Another exchange involving the proper use of words followed the Tribune’s editorial urging more testing of the water supply in area schools in search of possible lead contamination. One loyal reader took quick and prickly exception to our suggestion that, “Lead is for pencils, not water.”
“Please publish an immediate retraction to the erroneous implication that pencil ‘lead’ is in any way elemental lead,” was the breathless email message. “The pun (if intended as a pun) is inappropriate and completely wrong. We need less ‘fake news‘.”
Yes, I know. Modern pencils aren’t full of the element properly called, ”lead.” They use a substance called graphite.
But everybody calls it lead. Who in the history of the world ever said, “Oh, shucks. The graphite in my pencil broke”? And the boxes of replacements for the things that go in mechanical pencils are always labeled ”leads” of one thickness or other.
My friend offered a scientifically correct, but metaphorically flat, alternative. “Lead belongs in car batteries, not water.” Yes, but there‘s no school imagery with a car battery. And, as I told my friend, we’re not writing a chemistry book here.
•••
Finally, an example of my flypaper mind.
There was a lot of praise on social media for the lead of the Politico article on President Trump’s flyby of hurricane-stricken Houston and environs.
“It was a presidential trip to a deluged state where the president didn‘t meet a single storm victim see an inch of rain or get near a flooded street,” wrote reporter Josh Dawsey.
Am I the only one old enough to remember the sentence Dawsey was paying homage to?
In 1994, when then-President Bill Clinton visited Oxford in the United Kingdom, then-New York Times White House reporter Maureen Dowd dashed off the following lead: “President Clinton returned today for a sentimental journey to the university where he didn‘t inhale, didn’t get drafted and didn’t get a degree.”
Pure genius. So good that, not that long afterward, they made her a columnist.
George Pyle, the Tribune’s editorial page editor, remembers a lot more obscure stuff. Ask him about it sometime,when you’ve go two hours to kill. gpyle@slrib.com
