Getting Down To Brass Tacks*

Sometime today -- I'll spare you a description of where, how, when, and why -- I realized that coming home after the upcoming surgery may not be the wisest course. Coming directly home, that is!

How in heck am I going to be able to care for myself, much less keep The Manor neat as a pin? The Old Masters dusted and straight (not to mention the occasional Rubens or Velasquez restoration project on long weekends)? All the antique Blue Jasper Wedgwood plaques free of nasty cat fuzz? The lawns -- replete with a scale replica of Wimbledon courts 1-19 plus Centre Court, sans that awful poof of a retractable roof that's going up for next year -- deeply green and trim? Oh, and how in the world can I keep the black algae out of the moat without a daily brushing and correction of chlorine requirements? I mean, I doubt that I'll be able to sport SCUBA gear anytime soon.

As I was experimenting on basic hygiene techniques without benefit of either shoulder, my spritely spirit plumbed the depths of despair.

Oh, am I being too theatrical for you? Well, tough titties! Whoseblogisitanyway?

Continuing my efforts at putting the Fredster first, for a change, the idea came to me fairly effortlessly: This time, when they ask "Don't you think you would benefit from some time in Rehab?" I will say "You know, that might be a hell of a good notion."

Usually, I curse and produce spittle. Rant. Cry. You know, all of those wonderfully adult Drama Queen reactions. The Pout. The Woe-Is-Moi. Really, though, everyone who knows me knows that I am filled with ice, absolutely cold-terrified at the notion of being "put away" away and forgotten.

The problem is that there really is not much that can be "rehabilitated." I mean, if you have no shoulders, even intensive PT (with the most motivated of clients) has limitations.

I guess this is more a case for OT and an 1,000-page medical supply catalog than a muscle bound attendant with an American Physical Therapy Association (APTA) endorsed gait transfer belt stashed in his dark blue fanny pack.

*HERE

*THERE

Between here and there, I sneaked up on Darling Fred and blurted: "DoYouThinkIShouldGoToARehab(OrANursingHome)AfterSurgery?" and then, with no intent for emotional blackmail, burst into tears.

He fairly yawned, and he definitely laughed at me.

"No, I don't think so. I know it is embarrassing for you, but I can help you wipe your ass... or we can convert all the damn bidets around here back from planters to their intended usage. What else are you worried about?"

Well, all I can say is -- thank goodness someone is willing to get down to Brass Tacks* -- and aren't I lucky to be with such a gentleman, here at Marlinspike Hall, deep, deep in the Tête de Hergé ?

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*Brass tacks is an object used in the popular expression "get down to brass tacks". The expression usually means clearing out confusing details and finding out the real facts about something.

The etymology of the expression is unclear. It may have roots in the way fabric manufacturers used to mark out a yard in tacks on the counter so customers could buy their fabric accordingly. It was common for some customers buying material or draperies to say to the salesperson "Let's use the brass tacks" which were embedded in the counter. Usually the salesperson would use his or her arm to measure the material. This has been seen in the UK even in the 1950s. This was done to save time overall, but the suspicious customer would often insist on having the material measured exactly, right up to the line of brass tacks.

Another possibility is that in the 1860s the US government issued boots for soldiers that were constructed using brass tacks to hold the leather soles on to the bottoms of their boots. As the boots wore down, the tacks would protrude through the sole and in to the bottom of the soldier's feet. 'Brass tacks' could mean to get to the absolute bottom of things in reference to shoes.

It is also argued that the idiom is derived from the "Brass Tax of 1854". When the makers of clothing, shoes, instruments, tools, etc. that required brass would gather the materials and count up the cost, accounting for the brass tax was the last - and most expensive - step. Therefore the phrase "get down to brass tax" could mean to get to the last and final thing, or to get past the formalities and get down to the crux of the matter.

It is also noteworthy that the tax, in addition to creating revenue for the government, led to a sharp increase in the cost of many instruments. tubas, trumpets, cornets, french horns, and other popular brass instruments gave way to flutes, piccolos, clarinets and oboes as the more affordable woodwind instruments' popularity skyrocketed. Evidence of this is most notable when examining Civil War marching music which relies heavily on the beating of percussion instruments and melodies from the woodwind family. Brass instruments are noticeably absent.

The earliest known use of the complete phrase in print, in the March 4, 1871 issue of the Galveston News (page 3), is "filing down to brass tacks"; hence, a shoemaker filing away too much material in excessive zeal to do a thorough job. The meaning was originally about the same as "putting too fine a point on it" or "over-arguing the point."

The expression might also be Cockney rhyming slang for "facts."

Another suggested Cockney etymology is that the expression "down to the brass tacks" may have originated from a similar British expression: "down to the crass facts." This original phrase is used to describe dealing with the basic details. Because of the Cockney British accent, it was incorrectly pronounced "down to the brass tacks," but still holds the original meaning.