Ms. Marx, whose cleavagey of 2010 has stayed with me even more than all the semi-finalists of that year, recently wrote a Talk of the Town piece about fossil seekers led on a hunt by the American Museum of Natural History's collections manager for "paleo herps and chirps." This for The New Yorker's September 17 issue.
Avinash Schwarzkopf, a six-year-old in blue board shorts, cupped an oodgy-colored something and held it up to Mehling for examination.
The reader has to wonder: what does a fact-checker do with a word like oodgy? No such word exists either in the OED or Merriam-Webster's Tenth. It's not in the RH Dictionary of American Slang. Is it like a Code Red, known only to people who can handle the truth?
Maybe somebody from the magazine's fact-checking department will run into me accidentally on purpose at the Brooklyn Book Fair on Sunday and tell me.
There's an alternative spelling: oogy. Oodgy is much better, raising, as it does, fudgy and ooze from the depths.
|A fossil of an ammonite, an extinct cephalopod|
[ Herve Conge, ISM/Science Photo Library ]