What’s with this title? If you are of a certain age (and most of you are) you might be thinking of Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, “If you don’t know me by now…” but we’re not barking up that tree. Nope, I am referring to “Juicy,” by The Notorious B.I.G. Now, lest you think I am too hip for my age, I didn't know this song either. Many years ago, I was watching the play “Hamilton,” by Lin Manuel-Miranda with my family. In the play, Thomas Jefferson is having a battle with Hamilton and lays out what he considers to be the faults of Hamilton’s position. After doing so, he turns to President Washington, and says, “And if you don’t know, now you know.” At which point my son, in his 20’s at the time, turns to me, and says, “He got that line from Biggie.” And that’s how I know about it, not because I’m a devoted listener of hip hop. And if you don’t know, now you know.

But this title refers to both of this week’s comics as well. The first one about retronyms is actually our second comic on the subject. John, in addition to being an art director and illustrator, is also a lover of words. Which doesn't exactly leave much for me to do, now does it? But the point is we enjoy thinking up categories of words, like retronyms. What is a retronym, you ask? If the comic didn’t define it for you, here’s an example from the Oxford Dictionary: “A cloth diaper is a retronym necessitated by the fact that diaper now more commonly refers to a disposable diaper.” This is an example we can both relate to, being proud grandpas of baby girls. Believe it or not, we have ridiculous arguments over what should be considered a retronym and what should not. For example, “fresh squeezed orange juice.” I consider it a retronym, John does not. If I went on any further I think you readers would be begging me, “Enough! Please stop!” Which is exactly what Craig is saying when he implores Dottie, their waitress, to stop encouraging Al. And if you don’t know, now you know.

Another thing you might not know (because nobody likes admitting it), is our hidden love for musicians, authors, comedians, late night talk show hosts, that we secretly love but are too embarrassed to admit. I’m talking about James Patterson, who I love to read on the beach, but only on my Kindle, not in the hardcover form I actually prefer (incidentally, “hardcover book” is another retronym). This way nobody knows what I’m reading. And in the realm of music, it’s…it’s…okay it’s Neil Diamond. John, whose taste runs to jazz, has no embarrassing loves like this one. At least none that he admits to. So I told John that I had gone to see the Neil Diamond musical on Broadway and absolutely loved it. Ask my wife. For a week afterwards it was Neil Diamond in the car, Neil Diamond at home, Neil Diamond everywhere, until even I got sick of him. At any rate John heard this and said, “Okay, let’s make it Barry Manilow. Al and Marv are in the car, and Marv sees Barry Manilow on Al’s “favorite stations” list. I said, “Great, he’s even cornier than Neil Diamond. What I didn't admit is that years ago, I also saw Barry Manilow at the Bottom Line. And if you don’t know, now you know.

That’s it for today folks. Have a wonderful weekend and we’ll be back next week with two new ones.

Andy and John