Concoct sure is some kind of word, now isn’t it?
It is the kind of word you put on your kid when you find out they have been lying to you, but you find it completely impossible to label them with something so harsh as “liar.”
So that night, when it comes time to tell your wife or husband, you say, “Well. Today, little Skippy over there concocted some big story about how the back window got broken.”
It is a softer, easier — almost cushy version — of lying.
But here is the thing about concocting. Concoct is multi-versed. It can mean many things. Ambidextrous, that word is.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a chemist. At one point, in my childhood, at least. Anyway. I asked for a chemistry set. That never came. Not for Christmas, not for birthday, nadda. So, I’d go down in the basement, where there were all sorts of liquids and powders and things to mix. Bleach. Turpentine. Soap. Drain-O. It was a mad scientist’s dream come true. And boy, did I ever concoct. I’d mix and stir, and measure and pour. Until the one time that Mom came down the basement and caught me in the middle of my chemistry experiment. I’m lucky I didn’t die from mixing volatile substances in a closed, unventilated area. But, that night at dinner, Mom told Dad I was concocting. And there was not a single lie involved.
So yes. Concoct is a multi-functional word.
It came to me some time ago, in my inbox, for my Word of the Day. And as it turns out, concoct has many variations. The definitions range from concocting when you cook to concocting while you invent. There’s “mixing” or “preparing” and other things which all point right back to concoct.
But the definition which caught my eye was number three: concoct: trump up.
I spit my coffee out.
As I’ve mentioned many times before, sometimes the Universe opens up and shows us things. Sometimes those are the things we already know to be true.
Some people are better liars than others. I’ve seen this with my very own eyes, or shall I say, heard it with my own ears. I’ve even known a few compulsive liars. I’m no psychologist, but that’s how I’d describe them. I used to lie more when I was a kid. But I was miserable at it back then, and now, it is next to impossible. (See Catholic Guilt entry, from two days ago.)
Yet some people can just lie, lie, lie. Like a rug on the floor, or a dog on the porch. I’m not sure if they think that it will never come back around to them, or maybe they just don’t care. There’s always the possibility that they believe their own lies, which is the saddest thing of all.
My Dad. He always gently guided us in good directions. He’d have sayings, that we heard over and over again. “Honesty is the best policy,” he’d say. “Oh, but what a tangled web we weave, when at first we to deceive.” And on. We figured out pretty quickly that lying was no good. No good to anyone. Especially when the truth is what is needed the most. Like in times of trouble, or crisis.
And then there is concoct. It could be bad or good, depending on where that concoction is taking place. Right now, I hope there is some kid, who is all grown up these days. Some kid who got a chemistry set when she was ten. And then went on, and grew up to be a chemist. I hope she’s somewhere concocting right now. Devising some kind of cure, or vaccine. One that will help all of us.
And that, is no lie.
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“Strong people don’t put others down… They lift them up.”
― Michael P. Watson
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“A storyteller makes up things to help other people; a liar makes up things to help himself.”
― Daniel Wallace, The Kings and Queens of Roam
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“Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.”
― Aldous Huxley, Complete Essays 2, 1926-29
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