A girl named Lucy appeared at my doorstep one day and carefully explained why certain individuals might be prone to type my name as Keither, rather then Keith. She left no number. No calling card or hints about where to find her. Just that her name was Lucy and she knew about our problem.
“You type ”Keither” because you’re used to typing “either,” and your fingers just have that kinetic memory,” she said.
“I don’t do it,” I told her. “Who are you talking too?”
“Everyone else.”
“But everyone else isn’t here,” I said.
“That’s okay. You can tell them all when they get here.” She seemed very insistent about this, so I agreed. And then she just turned and walked off without another word.
I like to think that Lucy meant that Keither rhymes with ether. It sounded right to me, so I looked it up, to prove my point. I wanted to be ready when everyone showed up.
ether
E"ther, n. [L. aether, Gr. ?, fr. ? to light up, kindle, burn, blaze; akin to Skr. idh, indh, and prob. to E. idle: cf. F. [’e]ther.] [Written also [ae]ther.] 1. (Physics) A medium of great elasticity and extreme tenuity, supposed to pervade all space, the interior of solid bodies not excepted, and to be the medium of transmission of light and heat.
I found myself liking the idea that I rhymed with ether. Ether Keither, the man of great elasticity and extreme tenuity, pervading all space and solid bodies, carrying with me light and heat and whatever else I could think of. Maybe a pocket knife. A cell phone and a small pad of paper. A good pen. These are the things that Ether Keither might carry around with him.
I wish Lucy had stuck around for just another minute or two, so that I would have had time for a question. I’m not as quick on my feet as Lucy. It takes me time to think sometimes. I just can’t imagine everything with someone standing there in the doorway, telling me things I need to know. Important things. Things I’ll need to tell everyone else, when they show up.
I would have asked her about the word tenuity. I would have gotten out the dictionary and read to her (in a questioning kind of voice) the definition:
tenuity
Te*nu"i*ty, n. [L. tenuitas, from tenuis thin: cf. F. t[’e]nuit[’e]. See Tenuous.] 1. The quality or state of being tenuous; thinness, applied to a broad substance; slenderness, applied to anything that is long; as, the tenuity of a leaf; the tenuity of a hair.
2. Rarily; rareness; thinness, as of a fluid; as, the tenuity of the air; the tenuity of the blood. --Bacon.
3. Poverty; indigence. [Obs.] --Eikon Basilike.
4. Refinement; delicacy.
“I know all about tenuity,” she might have said. “I know, for instance, that tenuity seldom rhymes with anything, but that the lines on a roadmap are as tenuous as the dreams of a man.”
“I never thought of it that way,” I might have said.
“Of course you haven’t. The tenuity of life doesn’t mean that you’ll necessarily understand anything. Or even that you’ll have dreams.”
“But I do have dreams.”
“I know. But you need to keep in mind that Keither will never rhyme with tenuity. No matter how hard you try.”