LORAN SMITH: Confusing youngsters with discarded words

Funny how the passing of generations often brings about changes in the language and the meaning of certain words.

Recently on a Delta flight to Dallas, one could not help but recognize that peanuts have made a comeback. For a while, there were no peanuts available aloft, owing to the allergy circumstance with peanuts for some travelers. You probably are aware of these developments.

Peanuts are a wonderful treat, and, in today’s world of no food service unless you fly first class, two of Georgia’s most celebrated products help make you comfortable when flying: Coca-Cola and Georgia peanuts.

Just for fun, I flummoxed a pretty flight attendant when she smiled and said, “What can I get for you?” I replied, “A dope and some ground peas.” She reacted as if I were speaking a language with which she was not familiar.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she replied. “You have ‘em both on your cart,” I said and then pointed to a can of Diet Coke and a package of peanuts as she blushed with a half-grin and half-smile, shaking her head as if she wished she could say aloud what was on her mind.

“Never heard that,” she said as she placed the two products on my tray table and eagerly moved on down the aisle to accommodate other travelers who were not into an off-the-wall Q-and-A session.

I can remember the old days and the scene at many country stores, which dotted the rural landscape, something else that the pretty flight attendant probably does not know about. You would often see guys come in and grab a Coke from the cooler and ask for peanuts to go with their “Dope.”

While the Coca-Cola formula is the best-kept secret in America and has been for years, it is well-known that included in the original formula were ingredients from Coca leaves and kola nuts.

With peanuts, which have always been one of the most important cash crops in the state of Georgia, you would have to be something of a historian or have spent time in a rocking chair on the front porch with your grandfather and maybe heard him refer to peanuts as ground peas.

Not sure that the recent college graduates employed by the Georgia Peanut Commission in Tifton know that the product they promote once was connected with the colloquial phrase, “ground peas.”

I enjoy interacting with the college students in my building by asking them to “hand me a gem clip.” That usually brings pause to their routine. “What is that?” they will say, having no awareness that such a request has to do with a paper clip.

Originally, the paper clip was known as a gem clip. Wikipedia does not confirm how the word “gem” became attached to this original office product. It is not clear how the name came about or who should be credited for inventing this handy item — which occupies a place of prominence in the daily office life of millions around the world.

Norwegians claim one if its natives, Johan Vaaler, while a student at Christiana College in 1887, invented the gem clip. Many historians say it “ain’t so.” However, there is a giant gem clip standing 23 feet tall on campus, which recognizes Vaaler as the inventor. That is the Norwegian story, and they are sticking to it.

And whatever became of the floppy disc?

Will the Kindle bring about the demise of books? And, God forbid, libraries and librarians.

In the meantime, I will keep having fun with flight attendants by ordering a “Dope” and “ground peas.” Maybe on my next flight, I will ask if she can request from the captain a couple of “Gem Clips” to organize my papers.

Loran Smith is a freelance writer and columnist who has long been associated with the University of Georgia.