#285 MotherGrand

I noticed recently that a place was having a Grand Opening. And it looked like a new one too, not one of those the owner had been carrying on for a year. It made me think about the word “grand.” As near as I can figure, things are grand when they are more than or better than great. Instead of good, better, best, it’s good, great, grand. But a grande is the next to the biggest size in a coffee drink. The newest latte big gulp is a vente. Let’s see, Grande, Grand, Vente... Vent? I hope this doesn’t mean stores are going to be having “Vent Openings” anytime soon. Unless of course they need to air the place out from all those free hot dogs. So when you have a grand opening it’s better than a great opening—more expansive somehow, wider, more inclusive of the whole this-store-is-open phenomena. We’re not just open for business, we’re really open. And, in fact, new businesses, feeling the need to work the bugs out of their routine, routinely have “soft” openings. Yeah, we’re going to have a soft opening on the fifteenth and then on the 21st we’re having a grand opening. A soft opening is kind of like a beta version of the opening scenario. They don’t want to be embarrassed too bad when they realize they don’t have cash register tape or worse, don’t have cash at all, because they forgot to go to the bank in the last minute rush. Much better to screw up in front of one customer who will understand than fifty angry sale shoppers who will now never come back because they spent a half hour waiting in line to pay 2.99 for your doorbuster grand giveaway. Forget about grand, organization is a tall order.
So I’m not sure where the grand thing fits in with relatives. A “grand” mother is your mom or dad’s mother. She’s also a “grand” parent. But her mom is a “great” grandmother. Which never made sense to me when I was about five or so. What was so great about her? She was so dang old her skin was all papery and she moved slower than a slug. She sure as heck couldn’t catch a ball. When I threw one and it accidentally hit her mouth all her teeth came out at once and flapped on the lawn. My “grand” mother could do all kinds of stuff, she could drive us to the ice cream parlor and the donut place and the toy store. Now that was great. Then things got really confusing. My dad’s brother was my uncle. My uncle’s father was my grandfather. My grandmother’s brother was my “great” uncle. But my grandmother’s mother was my “great” grandmother. Did we lose a “grand” uncle somewhere? I finally looked it up. Turns out grand uncle is the same thing as great uncle. I guess when your relatives get that distant any word will do. Even language can get lazy and forget to send a card. And heck, Hallmark doesn’t even have a grand uncle section. Unless they’ve opened one recently.
America, ya gotta love it.