The Christmas season is in full swing at the Timrod Library. We’ve got the halls decked and holiday book recs at the ready.

We’re also still basking in the glow of the beautiful day that was Fall Fest on Nov. 8, because that’s how the holidays kick off here in Summerville. Fall Fest at the Timrod Library has been an annual autumn event in our town since 1975. Going back to its founding in 1897, the Library has depended on occasional book sales, among other efforts to keep the lights on and books on the shelves.

The Timrod’s status as a nonprofit library— privately funded and open to the public—means being creative about fundraising. Born of that creativity, Fall Fest is the Library’s biggest fundraiser and possibly the best day of the year at the Library, not only because it raises much-needed funds, but also because it brings the community together.

For anyone who hasn’t experienced the heartwarming goodness of Fall Fest at the Timrod Library: It’s a day-long celebration in early November for everyone who loves books, libraries, and good cheer. Outside, there’s a giant sale of every kind of book, under tents covering most of the library grounds along Central Avenue, plus, sweetgrass baskets. Inside the Library, you’ll find a selection of bookish gifts, and all kinds of holiday food. The Catherine Stewart Reference Room becomes a vintage bookshop, a trove of unusual, rare, and hard-to-find editions. A silent auction offers antiques, vacation getaways, pickle-ball lessons, and more.

Although it is a one-day event, the planning and preparation to make it happen goes on all year. The Fall Fest committee of the Timrod Board of Directors does the planning, working closely with the Library director, staff, and regular volunteers. Even with this hard-working group in place, though, it would be impossible for Fall Fest to be all that it is without the help and generosity of well over a hundred volunteers.

Everything that is sold at Fall Fest is generously donated by people who love the Library, and all the work is done by volunteers and Library staff members who go far above and beyond their regular hours. Then, when the doors open on the big day, more Library supporters pour through the doors and pore over the books in the sales tents, excited about the treasures they’ll find.  This combination of people who love books making a special day for friends and neighbors who also love books is not-so-secret ingredient that makes the magic of Fall Fest, and we are grateful.

It's a day that brings the community together to show its love of books and support for the Timrod Library. It’s an ideal time for running into people you haven’t seen in a while; for meeting new book-loving friends over a cup of coffee on the front porch. Hands down, it’s the best way to welcome the holiday season.

And at the end of a very long and busy day, when Fall Fest is done, the Library staff, board members, and volunteers look at each other and say “What a great day! Let’s do it all again next year!”

And we will—after we rest up just a bit! Hope to see you there!

We understand a lot of parents and grandparents are low-key confused about Gen Z slang, but at the historic Timrod Library we believe old words and new uses aren’t as far apart as they may seem at first read. As a service to our friends and fellow readers, we’ve created this multi-generational guide, drawing upon our most venerable source, The Century Dictionary: An Encyclopedic Lexicon of the English Language, published in 1914. Around the Timrod, we usually refer to it as the Giant Dictionary, mostly because it is enormous, but also because The Century Dictionary: An Encyclopedic Lexicon of the English Language is too long to say every time.

What does this weighty volume have to say about sus terminology, words that are mid, literature that is litty, and what the skibidi is going on in Ohio? We’re here to spill the tea and the beans with a short list of comparative terms from the Giant Dictionary and Gen Z.

Flex: In the Giant Dictionary, this is a verb meaning “to move or tense a muscle by contraction.” Gen Z uses it as a noun to describe something done for the purpose of showing off. We already knew that.

Suss: Our dictionary says suss means “hounds’ meat, a mess of food,” or “a dirty puddle.” Gen Z uses sus to mean something to avoid or be wary of. Sounds about right.

Cringe: Our research says this verb means “to cower in fear” or “to recoil in distaste.” For Gen Z, cringe is an adjectival form of the latter, meaning “distasteful,”  or “ewwww,” which is probably how they’d describe this list. We get it. We also doubt many of them are reading this, so that makes everything copacetic.

Buss/Bussin’: The Giant Dictionary says bussing means kissing, or picturesquely, “to salute with the lips.” To Gen Z,  bussin’ is an adjective meaning extremely good or excellent, which makes these definitions a love match in our book. Essentially, bussin’ (often shortened to buss) is a chef’s kiss, which has been around longer than the Gen Xers, or Boomers, even.

Used in a sentence:  “At the Timrod Library, we have vintage Regency romances on our shelves that are definitely still bussing—and bussin’." That’s not just a flex. Bridgerton fans, meet Georgette Heyer.
Although bussing and bussin’ are similar, neither should be confused with busing, which involves transportation and is a very different thing, obvi.

Obvi: Are you going to make us say it?

Mid: The Giant Dictionary defines this as “in between,” describing something that is so-so, neither good nor bad, high nor low. Gen Z says it’s “meh.” We sense a lack of enthusiasm about this one, also not much confusion. It’s pretty basic.

Litty: This is the Gen Z version of the Millennial superlative lit, which according to our dictionary means “set on fire.” Pyrotechnics aside, litty is used by Gen Z speakers to mean hot, cool, bad, sick, wicked, or otherwise desirable. (See also, bussin’.) We want to point out that lit is also a  shortened version of the word literature, defined as “writings having excellence of form or expression and ideas of permanent or universal interest.”

Used in a sentence: “Millennial readers loved YA fiction because it was lit. Now, YA lit is litty, and Gen Z loves it even more.” Note: At press time, we were informed that litty is well on its way to becoming cringe. No word on whether cringe is still cringe.

No cap: For Gen Z speakers, this means “I’m telling the truth.” Although this meaning is not listed in our dictionary, its origins date to the early to mid-1900’s, when cap was used in Black culture and speech to mean “lie” or “insult,” according to Merriam-Webster.com. Hence, no cap indicates sincerity and truthfulness. It’s a good reminder that slang is not always ephemeral. We wouldn’t lie to you.

Ohio: No dictionary needed to know that Ohio is a state in the northeast-central United States; capital Columbus. We happen to know a lot of people who used to live there.

Sources considerably newer than our dictionary indicate that Gen Z speakers use Ohio in various ways. In one use, adding  in Ohio at the end of a statement renders the statement untrue or ironic. Color us doubtful, but then we tried it in a couple of sentences and the results were legit. For example: “People love winter and snow … in Ohio” and “Summerville is everyone’s favorite place … in Ohio.”

All slang aside, Ohio friends and readers, we appreciate you at the Timrod Library … in Summerville.

Skibidi: Surprisingly, our dictionary does not include this word on any of its 8,512 pages. However, another reliable source (okay, it was Wikipedia) says skibidi is a word used in a variety of ways, having no strict definition, derived from a viral video about a toilet. We made an editorial decision not to dive any deeper into those facts. It’s possible the next wave of slang will give skibidi the old twenty-three skidoo, but you never know. Twenty-three skidoo has been around since 1906, making it even older than our dictionary.

Touch Grass: No need for the dictionary here. This directive means exactly what it says to every generation. Put down the phone, turn off the screens. Go outside in the real world and  touch grass.
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Touch Books: Yes, we made this one up, but it works very similarly to the above. Turn off the noise, come to the library, and you’ll see what we mean. It’s lit.

Written and compiled by Terri Barnes, author, book editor, and member of the Timrod Literary and Library Association’s Board of Directors. She is an avid reader of books of all kinds, including dictionaries.
 
Disclaimer: This list is intended for adult translation and comprehension purposes only, not recommended for use in actual conversation by anyone over the age of 16.
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