Moon Idioms

Several words have become part of the language in being used in phrases. Last time we looked at ‘ice’ and now look at ‘moon’.

Man in the moon, as opposed to man on the moon, is derived from the idea the surface features can be seen to resemble a face on that side of the moon facing Earth. Mentioned since the 14th century, some reports say he carries a bundle of thorn twigs and is accompanied by a dog. The Japanese claim to see a ‘rice-cake-making rabbit’ – which is really stretching credibility.

The old moon in the new moon’s arms, seen in print for the first time in 1727, describes the first sliver of the new moon lit by the sun with the remainder visible by the faint illumination coming from reflected light from Earthshine.

To moon, as in wandering about as if in a daze, first appears in 1836.

Moonstruck, first seen around 1670, is another reference to someone apparently witless – here the link of lunacy to lunar.

To moon, as in to bare one’s buttocks, is first seen in 1968 – student slang likening the pale flesh of the untanned posterior to the silver light of the moon.

Blue moon is a something rarely occurring. In truth, a blue moon is a second full moon in a calendar month, an isn’t all that rare as it happens, on average, every 33 months – it is first spoken of in 1528. Other phrases which suggest a rare occurrence include: “at the Greek calends”; “in the reign of Queen Dick and Saint Geoffrey’s Day”; and “Nevermass” The song Blue Moon was written in 1934 and has been recorded multiple times in the last 90 years.

A moondial is the same as a sundial, it seen in 1680.

Moon face, probably not intended as a compliment, describes someone with a rather rounded face and is first recorded in 1854.

Moon dog is seen from the 1660s to describe a dog which howls at the moon- Neighbour’s dog howls each time it hears the ice cream van – does this make it a Cur-netto? A Whippy-et? A choc-cur spaniel? OK I’ll stop.

Moon shot is first recorded in 1958, a year before the first unmanned probe made a fly-by of the satellite.

Moon calf, a shapeless fleshy mass, first seen in the 1560s and sixty years later used as a derogatory term.

Half moon, which must have been seen since before humans were able to vocalize, is only recorded from the 1520s.

Honeymoon – so called because the Saxons would celebrate a union with a drink made brewed from honey.

Moonshine refers to illicitly distilled or smuggled liquor, first seen in 1785.

Nothing was described as moonlit until as recently as 1819.

Moonbeams have only been around since the 1580s.

The moonrace began in 1963.

Moonglow is a term coined in 1926.

Moonscape was first used in 1926.

Moonlight has been used since the 1670s.

Moonwalk was first used in 1966, despite Neil Armstrong not getting there for another three years. The dance move of the same name popularized by Michael Jackson was not coined until 1983.

Moonglade is a delicious expression and first used in 1860 to describe a track of moonlight on the water.

Moondoggle is a phrase coined in the 1960s by those who were skeptical of any financial benefits derived from space travel. Those same people who have Velcro fasteners on their trainers and Teflon coating on their pots and pans, I assume. Or perhaps they don’t have any uses for freeze drying, memory foam, scratch resistant spectacles, wireless headphones, air purifiers, solar cells, cochlear implants, shoe insoles, water filters, GPS, shoe insoles, foil blankets, power tools, camera phones, and how many more do you want? Incidentally, some idiot once told me his rationale for saying the moon landings didn’t happen was that a survey revealed one in six agreed with him.

Lord Brooke

In Dam Street at Stowe Pool on the side of Brooke House, a blue plaque marks an historic event. March 2nd 1643, Lord Brooke, a general of the parliamentarian forces was preparing to beseige the close at Lichfield, then garrisoned for King Charles I. On the spot marked by the plaque he was shot through the forehead and was killed. The marksman had positioned himself on the great steeple of the cathedral. That marksman was none other than John Dyott, although more often known as Dumb Dyott, who had been placed there to annoy the opposition for (as evidenced by the soubriquet) he was not considered of much help. It is generally considered to be among the luckiest shots in history.

Bonfire Night 1878

November 5th 1878 and a fatal shooting is reported at the Gresley Arms Inn, the account appearing in the Lichfield Mercury on November 8th. William George Green, landlord of the Gresley Arms Inn, is playing host to a number of individuals while in the background a host of bangs are going off as the traditional fireworks are let off to remember the uncovering of the Gunpowder Plot.

During the evening Green slipped away to borrow a pistol from neighbour Henry Joseph Stych. Green informs Stych he is going to fire the pistol in the kitchen where his friends have gathered, thinking this would be thoroughly amusing jape. Green asks Stych to load the pistol as his knowledge of firearms is minimal. As he returned with the loaded pistol, Green stumbled and the gun went off, whereupon one Samuel Bates collapsed. Green later maintained the pistol contained nought but gunpowder, no shot had been loaded. This seemed unlikely as Bates, now lying on the floor, had blood coming from his head. Green sent Stych to find a doctor and the police superintendent, although their arrival was simply to pronounce the man dead and to summon a surgeon to carry out the postmortem. The inquest, arranged for the following day, was presumed to be a mere formality. Yet the surgeon discovered a glass marble embedded in the skull during the postmortem which was brought as evidence the following day at the Gresley Arms Inn before the coroner Mr Simpson.

Stych was the first to give evidence, telling how Green came to him at 8pm the previous day and explained how he saw the prank working. Together both men observed the gun being loaded with nothing but paper and powder and by 8:20pm Green and the loaded gun returned to the Gresley Arms with Stych coming along to enjoy the fun. However Stych entered first and, with his back to the events, did not see what happened. Contemporary reports stated how very nervous Stych was and the coroner had to ask him to speak up repeatedly. The jurors were allowed to ask questions of Stych in order to ascertain just how the marble had been loaded in the gun. George Cotton, who had been working with Bates and was lodging at the inn, said he heard the explosion and saw the blood but never noticed a gun – Cotton also added that Green had been very friendly and he could not see how he would have had a motive. Then fellow workmates Edward Plummer and James Ellson took to the witness stand and gave the same stories as Cotton. Mrs Stych also spoke, she Henry’s mother, also said she saw Green enter the inn and it seemed to her the gun had caught on an iron bar as he passed and thus the gun went off accidentally. She refused to confirm that marbles could be found around her home, this the coroner declared ‘not at all credible’. Green maintained he had brought the gun into the inn most carefully and as safely as could ever be expected. At no time did the gun leave his sight, nor did he load a marble or ever see any marble.

George William Homan, the surgeon performing the postmortem, reported how he found Bates lying on the kitchen floor, propped by pillows. He was found to be dead, and he observed a wound at his left temple just above the eyebrow, this large enough to insert a finger into the brain, he then showed the marble he extracted to the court and the cries of horror were testament to the unexpectedly large size of this marble. Witnesses said that Bates had been bending forward when the shot rang out. The witnesses acted out their roles and places for the coroner, to show how they observed Green returning to the kitchen preceded by Stych. Then someone pointed out the marble in question could not have been fired from the pistol as it was too large to fit into the powder chamber. Stych did admit he was using the gun earlier that day for target practice, but no marbles were involved. He was given ample opportunity to state he had unknowingly placed the marble in the gun but, with evidence pointing to the contrary, he never admitted doing such. Green apparently fired the gun accidentally, he admitting it went off while he was carrying it but denied he had pulled the trigger. The coroner was unsure how the marble had entered the skull but certainly nobody present could have targeted Bates and a verdict of accidental death was recorded.