Always Remember…

A hasty posting this week as far-flung family members just arrived for a visit. Actually, I’m reheating a class project I did in graduate school about 15 years ago. In my field of linguistics, the use of the computer for corpus research was all the rage back then. It was finally possible to scan collections of naturally occurring language into the computer and create an electronic data base that could be studied empirically and analyzed in various ways.

The frequency of words, phrases, syntactic constructions, and semantic meanings could be counted. No longer could the strict grammarians insist they knew better; it was possible to show them how real people used language for real purposes. Well, since this was only a small-scale project (to practice entering data and using software), I chose to study the language used in the inscriptions that teenagers wrote in my three high school yearbooks (1956-58).

If you’ll bear with my geekiness, I’ll give you an overview that might be mildly interesting. I hope it reminds you of those days when we handed around our books—sometimes hoping that the signers would reveal their high opinion of us, sometimes with trepidations, sometimes because we were asked to sign their books and it might hurt their feelings if we didn’t express an interest in having them sign our books, too.

Directions for Writing a Yearbook Epigraph

1. Use safe language.

In my study I had complicated tables with word counts, phrase counts, clause patterns, and other technical analyses that make linguists salivate. I’ll just give you a striped-down table of the most used open-case words. (Nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs are open case. Excluded were prepositions, pronouns, conjunctions, and particles.) If you getting the feeling that when Mrs. Mary Letzkus asked me to diagram a sentence on the board I jumped up joyfully, you’re right.

CORPUS OF YEARBOOK LANGUAGE: HIGH FREQUENCY WORDS

NOUNS

LUCK
GIRL, GAL
YEAR(S)
TIME(S)
CLASS(ES)
PERSONALITY
PLAY
FUTURE
FRIEND(S)
SMILE
SUCCESS

VERBS

REMEMBER
KNOW, KNOWN
HOPE
DO/DID
GET, GOT
KEEP
SEE
STAY
DON’T/DIDN’T
WISH
SUCCEED

ADJECTIVES

REAL
ALL
GOOD
LOTS, LOADS
BEST
SWEET(EST)
FUN, FUNNY
MORE, MOST
NEXT
GREAT
JUNIOR
NICE(EST)
SWELL
CRAZY
MUCH
WONDERFUL

ADVERBS

ALWAYS
REALLY

What this table omits is the actual number of times the most popular words were used. By far, the top 10 were (1, most popular) remember. (2) good/best, (3) luck, (4) always, (5) all, (6) real/really, (7) girl/gal, (8) loads, lots, (9) year(s), and (10) time(s).

Therefore, you had mastered yearbook-speak if you wrote: “To a real sweet girl, Always remember all the good times in homeroom [or wherever you happened to be signing this book]. Lots of luck next year, [your first name, year].

2. Know the formula.

Clearly such inscriptions were formulaic. One must begin with some form of address. Usually it was just the book owner’s first name, but sometimes a prepositional phrase: To a(n) [adjective] [noun],

Examples: “To a swell kid,”

“To a wonderful senior, who I’ve known a long time,”

“To a real crazy gal,”

“To the little girl from Ingomar who makes you flip your lid,”[Is that a compliment?]

And my favorite, written by someone tired of platitudes:
“To a good kid from a better one.”

One lengthy inscription that began “To a real cute gal…” ended with this post script: “When I got handed your yearbook, I thought it was Sue’s. SORRY!” That left me wondering if the entire message was intended for Sue. In fact, I began to wonder if other inscriptions written around the same time that didn’t begin with my name might also have been for Sue!

I got my comeuppance the other day, however, when a certain fellow whom I held in extremely high regard even in 1957, repeated to me how I had begun my inscription in his yearbook: “Good luck to a great girl and outstanding athlete.” How’s that for a major faux pas!

Some goofs in my book include just the three words “Barb, Do you”—I hope that was unfinished since no question mark followed. And “Best wishes to a swell.” Or did they really mean I was “someone fashionably dressed or socially prominent” as the dictionary offers as one informal meaning for the noun “swell”?

3. Revisit the past.

Next the writer needed to take a historical perspective and order you to “Always remember ______.” That command had become so common that many writers (especially poor spellers) saved effort and the limited space on the page by using “Rem.” for “remember.”

Examples: “Always rem. the Jr. play and how I scratched your back.” [Really?]

“Always remember those basketball and football games we went to (even though we lost most of them).”

“Rem. Mrs. Beall’s parting words. Well, they go to you now from me.” [By now I don’t recall either Mrs. Beall or any of her words.]

“Remember me in your old age.” [Who was Vella Hinkle?]

4. Offer advice on future behavior.

Somewhere the writer had to stick in a phrase or two that showed authority, issued a command, or appeared wise and prophetic.

Examples: “Stay as sweet as you are and you’ll go far.”

“These kinds of things always stump me for words, so remember me.” [A blunt but honest man]

“To Comrade Barb, Stay as swell as you are till the FBI catches both of us.” [What was that all about?]

“To a girl I’ve heard a lot of things about. Don’t change though.” [What sort of reputation did I have, for heaven sake!]

5. Close with good wishes.

Once writers had shot their wads, they would end with one of the standard bromides.

Examples: “Lots of luck and success in the future,”

“I wish you all the luck in the world,”

“Good luck to a good kid. J. O. Bolvin” [Yes, sometimes teachers signed books.]

“Have fun next year,” “Never forget me,” “You will really go places,”

My Favorite Inscription

I must confess one unusual inscription has always been dear to me. Partly it was because it was a compliment that didn’t involve niceness, sweetness, swellness or craziness. Partly it was because the writer was an upperclassman and one of The North Star editors. We were in the same journalism class, and he noticed my efforts. Maybe he doled out such compliments liberally, I never knew, but now 50 years later, I still bless him for the encouragement he offered to the insecure adolescent that I was:

“To Barb, The girl who will become the best writer to come out of our class.
Good luck, Larry Palmer ‘57”

* * *

And Now for Something Completely Different:

Next week, in my penultimate posting, I want to write about how the Class of ‘58 toiled in our first summer after graduation. I’ve already received many interesting replies. If you haven’t returned the survey yet, there’s still time to get it in. If you lost or never received a survey, I’d like to hear from you. To download the survey, click here, paste it in an e-mail, and send to Sniper.Sweeney@gmail.com.