Illegitimi Non Carborundum

There’s a large, bold decal along the top edge of the windshield in our 1956 Ford F-600.

I claim to have invented the phrase spelled out in the decal. I fabricated the saying some time early in 1960, when I was about to complete my six semesters (three school years) of Latin study at Brighton High.

In a spicy language I like to call “Faux-Latin,” the decal reads, “Illegitimi Non Carborundum.”

Steve, the front man at the garage where we take our antique vehicles for frequent high-dollar service, asked me one day, “What does it mean? The legend on the truck windshield?”

Well heck. I probably put that legend on the windshield so people would ask, “What does it mean?” Probably.

So I launched. “It’s Faux-Latin, Steve.” Then as if he didn’t have anything else to do that morning, I told him the story of me and Latin.

“I took Latin in high school, Steve. Three years of it. My teacher was a patient woman named Lucille Rockne, a friend of my dear departed Mother.

“Even though I was totally full of piss and vinegar, Miss Rockne somehow took a liking to me. Or perhaps she simply put up with me on account of her friendship with my Mom. Whatever the reason, she allowed but did not condone my disruptive high jinx.

“I was so rambunctious that sometimes Miss Rockne would sigh a deep sigh, stand up from her desk, and hurriedly leave the room in frustration. She’d head straight across the hall to the girls’ restroom and have a cigarette. She smoked L&M King Size. Her lipstick would leave blood-red stains on the white filter tips.

“Even though I was pretty much a consistent failure at completing my tedious and repetitious Latin homework assignments, and even though my grades barely reached “average” (C) in Latin One and Latin Two, I was somehow miraculously allowed to continue into Latin Three.

“You see, Steve, Latin Three was not really so much Latin as it was the study of the derivation, the history, of words in the English language.

“There, I excelled. Somehow, that narrow study of vocabulary appealed to me, caught my interest, and I actually looked forward to attending class.

“Miss Rockne was probably a Catholic, although there was no mention ever of religion or spirituality or scripture or even the inextricably intermingled Christian and Roman history in any class where I was a student.

“I tell you Steve, Miss Rockne went frequently to Italy, to Rome. I don’t think she went there to study language.

“I think she went there to tour – you know, to visit The Vatican and various early churches, shrines and probably the burial places of saints and early church leaders, that sort of thing.

“Anyway, Steve, it was through Miss Rockne’s efforts that I learned that most of the useful words in English come from Latin, from the Latin root words.

“You know, words other than ‘ugh’ and ‘ouch,’ and ‘blog’ and ‘I-pod’ and ‘mouse’ and ‘cell phone.’

“Miss Rockne taught us that Ancient Greek was indeed a classic and meaningful language, but it was Latin, she said, that had a mathematical rhythm and cadence to it, Latin was most easily understood and translated because of its exact nature, its precision.

“Person, place and number remain important in Latin, where these nuances are being lost in modern-day English.

“Miss Rockne, no relation she said to the famous Notre Dame football coach, has passed on, and I surely miss her.

“You know, Steve, it would vex Miss Rockne to know that Latin is no longer taught in high schools. She would fuss that high school students need Latin as a foundation for other learning skills – chemistry, physics, history, English, Spanish, French, etc.”

At this point Steve was becoming visibly edgy, and he pretended he had something else to do other than to listen to my discourse about Latin and about Miss Rockne and my high school experiences with her. He shuffled papers and played with his mouse and looked at his computer screen.

In an obvious effort to head me off, he got a sharp tone in his voice and said, “I thought Latin was a dead language.”

Without mercy, off I went again. After all, Steve is just the front man at that garage. There’s another guy in the back who does all the work.

It’s Steve’s job to talk to people like me, order parts, schedule repair jobs, keep the cash register, answer the phone, deal with the pest from Mac’s Tools, receive deliveries, go get the mail and take the deposit to the bank. The other guy does all the work.

“A dead language, Steve? Didn’t you just miss the point?

“You see, Steve, Latin isn’t really dead, it’s just stable, firm, settled. True, there isn’t a culture alive today that speaks ‘Latin.’ But that’s what makes it so valuable.

“Latin isn’t subject to slang, to daily social erosion, or even to evolution. That’s why, Steve, that truly expert lawyers, doctors, philosophers and high ranking officials in the Church are well acquainted with Latin, or at least Latin roots.

“It’s precision, Steve. Accuracy. Clear meaning. It’s not dead, Steve. It’s merely the basis for most all the world’s contemporary languages, at least those normal people can make any sense out of.

“Latin is the official language of The Roman Catholic Church. The Vulgate version of the Bible is extremely useful because it is in Latin, probably the best overall translation from the original Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic – simply because Latin itself is so mathematically accurate.

“By the way, St. Jerome translated the ancient texts into Latin in the Fourth Century, and his work became the authorized version for the Roman Catholic Church. Thought I’d throw that in, Steve.

“There’s been a resurgence of the use of Latin in the Church, with Gregorian chant returning to popularity, and all-Latin Masses offered at some parishes.

“Coming are changes in the American English Mass – changes designed to reflect a more accurate translation from the Latin.

“You see, Steve, Latin isn’t a dead language at all. English, French, Portuguese, Italian, Spanish – all of the so-called Romance Languages – owe their very existence to Latin. So Latin roots live on in these modern languages.

“And if we want to be conversant in any of those languages, we will have to have some basis in Latin, some Latin-roots knowledge. Otherwise, we are functionally illiterate. Amo, amas, amat, amamos, amais, aman. Dig it.”

Steve kept his hand nervously on his desk phone, hoping, I could see, that it would soon ring, and he could go back to work and my conversation with him would at least be interrupted, if not ended.

“Would you like a cup of coffee or some tea?” Steve asked. “We just got this new drink-maker. Try it and see if you like the brew.”

Poor Steve, a victim in his own office. Even I began to feel sorry for him. He’ll learn, I thought, not to ask too many questions, or else he’ll get to hear the answers.

So I drew a cup of hot tea from the fancy new brew maker. I took a sip and realized, shoots, I’ve got work to do. I should already have been back at the shop.

“This tea is good Steve. But hey. I gotta go. Real nice to chat with you.”

I gimped out the door and climbed into my ancient Ford truck, but guess what, here comes Steve trailing after me.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Steve persisted. “You didn’t tell me what the Faux Latin phrase on the windshield means.”

“Illegitimi Non Carborundum? Why, of course, Steve, sorry I forgot. It means ‘Don’t Let the Bastards Wear You Down.’”

Without delay and without further comment, Steve turned and returned to his cubicle and shut the glass door. I didn’t hear from him for a few days, until he called to tell me the car was ready and it would be $1,200, not the $600 they had estimated.

I wonder . . . naw, Steve wouldn’t do that.

-0-

Word of the week: Preposterous. Naturally it’s from the Latin, praeposterous. Originally it meant “with the first last and the last first.” I read that somewhere . . . must have been in the Bible . . . came from Latin, um, er . . .

Nowadays it means contrary to nature, reason or common sense. It means absurd, senseless or ridiculous.

Next week’s word: Belligerent.

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