Among my responses on this earlier post was one from a long-time contributor who was, alas, banned from the blog in the last Great Civility Purge. He wrote, and I quote directly:
“lollygaggin”…???
… which I interpreted as being a request for an explanation.
Well, just in case any of the rest of y’all were wondering, too, I’ll clear up the mystery. It’s from Tom Wolfe’s The Right Stuff. Here’s a use of the word, in context:
Anyone who travels very much on airlines in the United States soon gets to know the voice of the airline pilot … coming over the intercom … with a particular drawl, a particular folksiness, a particular down-home calmness that is so exaggerated it begins to parody itself (nevertheless! – it’s reassuring) … the voice that tells you, as the airliner is caught in thunderheads and goes bolting up and down a thousand feet at a single gulp, to check your seat belts because “it might get a little choppy” … the voice that tells you (on a flight from Phoenix preparing for its final approach into Kennedy Airport, New York, just after dawn): “Now, folks, uh … this is the captain … ummmm … We’ve got a little ol’ red light up here on the control panel that’s tryin’ to tell us that the landin‘ gears’re not … uh … lockin‘ into position when we lower ’em … Now … I don’t believe that little ol’ red light knows what it’s talkin‘ about – I believe it’s that little ol’ red light that iddn’ workin’ right” … faint chuckle, long pause, as if to say, I’m not even sure all this is really worth going into – still, it may amuse you … “But … I guess to play it by the rules, we oughta humor that little ol’ light … so we’re gonna take her down to about, oh, two or three hundred feet over the runway at Kennedy, and the folks down there on the ground are gonna see if they cain’t give us a visual inspection of those ol’ landin’ gears” – with which he is obviously on intimate ol’ buddy terms, as with every other working part of this mighty ship – “and if I’m right … they’re gonna tell us everything is copacetic all the way aroun’ and we’ll just take her on in … and, after a couple of low passes over the field, the voice returns: “Well, folks, those folks down there on the ground – it must be too early for ’em or somethin’ – I ‘spect they still got sleepers in their eyes … ’cause they say they cain’t tell if those ol’ landin’ gears are all the way down or not … But, you know, up here in the cockpit we’re convinced they’re all the way down, so we’re just gonna take her on in … And oh” … (I almost forgot) … “while we take a little swing out over the ocean an’ empty some of that surplus fuel we’re not gonna be needin’ anymore – that’s what you might be seein’ comin’ out of the wings – our lovely lovely little ladies … if they’ll be so kind … they’re gonna go up and down the aisles and show you how we do what we call ‘assumin’ the position'” … another faint chuckle (We do this so often, and it’s so much fun, we even have a funny little name for it) … and the stewardesses, a bit grimmer, by the looks of them, than that voice, start telling the passengers to take their glasses off, and take the ballpoint pens and other sharp objects out of their pockets, and they show them the position, with the head lowered … while down on the field at Kennedy the little yellow emergency trucks start roaring across the field – and even though in your pounding heart and your sweating palms and your broiling brainpan you know this is a critical moment in your life, you still can’t quite bring yourself to believe it, because if it were … how could the captain, the man who knows the actual situation more intimately … how could he keep on drawlin’ and chucklin’ and driftin’ and lollygaggin’ in that particular voice of his –
I used it to describe a characteristic of Mark Sanford’s idiosyncratic mode of speech, specifically, his frequent tendency to sound more offhand, less interested, more casual than the situation would seem to demand. In pilots, this quirk is indicative of the Right Stuff. In a governor, it’s indicative of … I don’t know what.