Val Dumond

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Articles on Writing, Grammar, and Publishing
by Val Dumond

Still
by Val Dumond
© Copyright 2009

Can a person develop a love-hate relationship with a word? One seems to be happening with me. I've taken a great dislike to the use of "still" in relation to people of a certain age "still"
continuing to operate. Yet, I love the word when it applies to the quiet of an afternoon or the still of the night.

The irritation with "still" sets off a shudder in me when I hear something like "Les Paul was still playing his music at 93." As if he was supposed to stop at some earlier age. Or, "Mike Wallace and Andy Rooney are still working at '60 Minute' on CBS." Are they supposed to quit working just because they continue to live?

Barbra Streisand and Tony Bennett continue to sing - still singing the way they have done for years. Toni Morrison and E. L. Doctorow are still writing books, as if their talents should disappear at some specific moment. Jimmy Carter is still pounding nails into new habitats for humanity.

True, many folks are not singing or writing or playing or working at certain ages, but some are not singing or writing or playing or working at any age! What is it about accumulated years that draws out that darned word: S-T-I-L-L?

There's also the snide admonition, "Are you still wearing that old thing?" or "Do you still suck your thumb?" that sounds more like a put-down. And put-downs are impolite, aren't they?

The loving side of the word "still" is what I experience when I go to bed late at night. The children are quiet; the dogs don't bark (unless an errant raccoon trespasses); cars don't roll by; nothing moves, except perhaps a slight breeze through the trees.

"In the still of the night" was a popular song once; it still is, and it still stirs my heart. There is something about the stillness that rests the brain, relaxes the muscles, stirs the heart.

Perhaps it's that continuity of the stillness, the notion that something continues to cause a reaction that is pleasant. Perhaps the endearing quality of "still" is the idea that some things don't change; some things are everlasting (now there's a great word). Some people are everlasting (now there's a great idea).

Oops, I almost forgot the "still" that may sit in Granddad's backyard and furnish an ongoing peace of mind in the old coot.

And there is the "still" used to substitute for "yet" when one implies the ongoingness. Still, the moon shines brightly in autumn. Still, singers continue to sing; writers continue to write, workers continue to work; musicians continue to play music. And aren't we all blessed by that thought, the thought that some things don't change just because the years roll by.

Am I mellowing with that idea? Still can mean continuity, silence, sweetness. Perhaps with me, it's the implication that people are supposed to let up or quit and that others are surprised that they still can move and perform.

Turn around the letters of "still" and spell it sideways and you get "lilts", much the opposite. I'd like to be still lilting when I reach a certain age.

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