LEND ME YOUR EAR: ON LEARNING A NEW WORD THE HARD WAY

Half my writing time seems to be spent consulting dictionaries, whether to verify or deny the existence of words new to me. Some continue to baffle me even after I've located the words and definitions.

Take "communitarian." Dictionaries define this term as an individual who believes in Communism. Communitarians, however, claim to "envision a family in which both parents share the joys and tribulations of parenting and securing a livelihood." They say nothing about holding the state above all else, or even parenting in groups. Shouldn't these hopefuls coin another expression for their beliefs, or is "disguise" the name of the game?

Consider "generativity." Dictionaries ignore this one, as far as I know. Betty Friedan, leading feminine extremist of the '60s, appears to have coined "generativity" to expound on our aging society, including ways to cope with the reality of growing old. Her new book is titled "The Fountain of Age," and to judge by reviews, this aging lady is no longer the same person who wrote "The Feminine Mystique." Praise God!

Next on our list of coinages is "Punditocracy," a term easily understood by all who know of our famous Washington pundits. Eric Alterman, writing of the collapse of American politics, maintains these pundits "now rule the world and are usually wrong." Speak for yourself, Mr. Alterman. James Kilpatrick, William S. Buckley Jr., and George Will do not presume to rule the world, and James Kilpatrick is known to be the most fair-minded of the lot.

A writer whose name has eluded my notes avers that "negotiations are difficult in Quipland." "Quipland" has nothing to do with the Washington pundits. This coinage was used to describe comedy shows, according to an article covering legal battles arising from claims of plagiarism.

Sports-world lingo is largely unfamiliar to me, but I could guess what "heptathlon" meant on reading "Joyner-Kersee Captures Heptathlon Title." Everyone knows Joyner-Kersee is a world-famous runner. I'd always thought "marathon" was adequate, but the meaning of marathon is not limited to running. "Heptathlon" is, though more difficult to pronounce.

Recently, on Saturday Night Radio, I tuned in on a talk show called a "Complainathon," during which callers were invited no, urged to complain about anything that irritates them. We hear more than enough about what's wrong with the world, so I stayed on only briefly. What we all need is a Rejoiceathon. Jean Bell Mosley, are you listening?

"Armamentarium" gave me a start when it turned up in an article on medical equipment. I assumed it had to do with military stock, though medicine is also about fighting. Dictionaries define "armamentarium" as complete medical equipment, including everything from research and reference works of every kind to instruments and medication.

How much space would an M.D.'s armamentarium occupy? I've made a survey of my personal armamentarium, and found it much too expensive and incomplete to itemize. Dr. Scholl's products alone are endless. Never mind the ankle bands, arm sling, band aids and other adhesives, to say nothing of medication current and outmoded, and one empty bottle of an antibiotic prescribed for a hole in my head. A literal hole, lest readers wonder and a bloody hole at that!

What has this to do with new words? On Aug. 30, 1993, I learned a new word the hard way. My M.D. had to drill a hole in my head to remove a pilar cyst. The word "pilar" was new to me, and is so rare it hasn't even made Webster's all-inclusive New Ninth, though the prestigious Oxford English Dictionary lists usage dating from 1858. Both the OED and American Heritage define "pilar" as an adjective pertaining to hair.

"Now you have a hole in your head!" my doctor announced on finishing the messy task. He didn't use the word "bloody", but he did advise me not to wash the blood out until it dried. In my view, it was a bloody hole in British parlance as well as literally.

No other doctor had ever told me I had a hole in my head, but I'd heard if for years from others close to me. In my day, sensible girls wanted a husband and home; I wanted neither. My prime goal all through high school was to spend my life teaching Latin. Later, it was just to teach.

Older teachers could only marvel at this, but my English teachers predicted I'd wind up a writer. Circumstances beyond my control soon placed me in the hands of the good Lord, Who led me to eventually combine my skills, and for the last 10 years I've been trying to teach others everything I've learned about writing. Those who still rely on me for help may be relieved to know that the hole in my head is shrinking on schedule and I haven't even seen a shrink!