Mañana, Ahorita, and Fuhgeddaboudit

As I gaze out over the wreck of our once-great (small “g,” this is not political) society, it occurs to me that some modification of American English may be necessary to accommodate our changing notions of time horizons and rates of discount. This is Econ-talk for whether we think doing something now (like right now) is more important than waiting a bit and doing it, well, “tomorrow.” You’re gonna like this suggestion, because it is identity-friendly, and recognizes that our friends from Mexico have more to offer than bueno cuisine and various grades of skilled labor. Here is a way out of one our most pressing current dilemmas (we have a variety from which to choose), what we picturesquely call “kicking the can down the road.” We been kicking the damned can down the road on the economy, the environment–Hell, whether or not we want a genuine democracy, for long time. So we need to have a more adequate way of expressing exactly what it is that we are doing. So we don’t all look like a bunch of delusional hypocrites.

Here is Peggy Lee and some cats getting in the spirit of what I recommend. Listen up!

My education in Castillian was, courtesy of Devon Prep, of the peninsular sort, which is to Mexican Spanish as Church Latin is to the revived classical pronunciation in Latin. Sort of. So when I got to Mexico, I had to learn (and unlearn) a whole bunch of stuff, including “mañana.” I thought, naturally enough, that mañana meant “tomorrow,” as in the day after today. Everyone knows that, right? Well, no. It does mean that, but a whole lot more. Maybe, “yeah, as soon as I get to it. If I get to it. But don’t hit the afterburners while you go after it.” At least in my mind, mañana in Mexico implies no definite commitment, although the speaker by no means rules out performing whatever it is that interests you. It’s not “no.” It’s not “yes” It’s not “maybe.” It’s mañana. And that’s got to be good enough. Sort of like Anita O’Day, “I told ya, I love ya, now get out.” Oh, she was a good singer, by the way. Everything is left rather vague. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe in a few years. By the way, you won’t get this in the Diccionario Espanol de Mexico. I checked. Today.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could handle our difficult national dialogues with a simple word, mañana? When will we have national health care? Mañana. When are we really going to get serious about climate change? Mañana. When are we going to impose real ethical standards on SCOTUS? Mañana. Racial justice? Mañana. Gun control….. Well, unless you’re beyond dense, you get the picture.

By the way, it may be that “Italian” (Tuscan) has a similar take on “domani” which means, well, mañana. I do recall Perry Como recording a tune called “Let’s forget about domani.” I need tosk my relatives in Italy if domani works like mañana. After Mexicans, Italians are typically the most ticked-off people I know. You know, nothing works the way it should. Italy reminds me of Mexico too. Only more so. Of course, the Italian song is about affairs of the heart. This is Italy, after all. They couldn’t get rid of Berlusconi in a day, bunga bunga or no. Or maybe because of.

Lest you think there is no way in Mexico to represent momentary commitment, slightly deferred gratification, as it were, let me introduce “ahorita.” Who? Well, “ahorita.” Ahora means “now”, therefore, ahorita is a dimunitive form. Hmm. As in “a little now”? Well, no, that makes no sense. “Just a moment.” Perhaps. Or “I’ll be right with you.” Perhaps. There is also, trust me, ahoritita, a dimunitive of a diminutive. This is sometimes accompanied by a hand gesture that looks sort of like “a pinch of salt,” or, at least, I have seen it so employed. But unlike mañana, ahorita means that something is going to get done. And within the foreseeable future. Not maybe sometime in the unforeseaable future, if the river don’t rise. When someone in Mexico in a shop tells you “ahorita,” it means something will be done presently. Not maybe. It may take a few minutes, but it will get done. You may have to cool your jets a bit, but you know that something’s gonna happen. If I said to you ahorita Congress is going to address evident corruption in the Secret Service, it wouldn’t mean “Like Hell it will.” It means it’s gonna happen with some plausible frame of time, even if not immediately. Mañana of course would mean “good luck with that.” Ahorita means indictments are on the way. Like ahorita Trump is gonna be wearing orange overalls. I ache to hear that said, for it would both hold out hope but tell me to expect some plausible delay. Not. Yeah. Would be nice. Never happen. Mañana they’ll indict the bastard and jail him. Right. More like it.

I do think we need some sort of national conversation on the use of these terms in a more formal sense in English. Because it would be an easier way to signal delayed consent versus absolute refusal disguised as a promised, albeit passive aggressive, agreement. Y’all follow? I hope so. Because I am heartily sick of kicking the can down the road in this damn country. The can must be sick of it too, because it’s been going on for forty years. Meanwhile, nobody has any faith in public discourse anyway. Wouldn’t it be better to stop pretending? Like, there’s still time to remedy climate change. Right. or better yet, fuhgeddaoudit.

Now, what about fuhgeddaboudit? Here I can claim no special expertise, because I see this as a New Yawkism (maybe New Jerseyism) with vaguely sinister connections to the Sopranos. Besides, I also understand the term to mean “yes I agree”, “no I do not” or just, well, forget about it. You know, I’ve heard guys say in appraising female beauty, “Fuhgeddaboudit!” which means “I’ll say and then some.” But I have also heard the phrase used in the precisely opposite sense, meaning, “Absolutely not.” As in, is this the Mets’ year? Fuhgeddaboudit! Which means their third baseman should be looking for life insurance in Venezuela. But, I also sense the word means “It isn’t worth thinking about one way or another,” which is neither positive or negative. Well that’s not too helpful, You know, sort of a robust way of kicking the damned can down the road once more. Which is the last thing this country needs: another way for politicians to talk out of both sides of their mouths, at least.

Know what? Fuhgeddaboudit.