Confessions of an Ultracrepidarian

When I learned the word “ultracrepidarian” and its definition (one who attempts to speak knowledgeably about things they don’t really know/understand) I felt a shock of recognition. So THAT’S what I am! At least sometimes. Prime example: when I first saw this word, I began to bloviate about “ultaCRAParian” and how apt a word it was. Crap? Get it? Of course, I was so wrong. It actually traces its origin to Pliny the Elder's adaptation of the retort that the Greek painter Apelles made to a cobbler who was critiquing Apelles' work, “nē suprā crepidam sūtor jūdicāre” (“let the cobbler not judge above the sandal.”) Yet another example of my pole-vaulting over the truth in service of a simplistic explanation. How…ultracrepidarian of me!!

Looking back, I think I began my career as a mental over-reacher at home, during my weird childhood. There was a period of YEARS when I argued regularly with my dad about the Vietnam War; mind you, neither of us had skin in that game, and all I knew I gleaned from half-listening to Uncle Walter (Cronkite) on TV. But Dad would climb upon his hobbyhorse and I on mine, and we’d rehash the same dubious talking points, over and over. I fancied myself quite the sharp debater (until I participated in an actual debate, that is. Who knew you needed FACTS to back you up?)

 

Later, I feigned expertise in the following areas: 

Art

Music

Theatre

Science

History

Parenting

 

Oh, I always talked a good game, and 90% of the time I convinced my audience (or at least I bored them enough to just start nodding in quasi-agreement, to get the exchange over with). The others proved intractable—but who needed them, anyway? I would scurry back to my rapt cheering section, those who applauded my arguable arguments and conclusions.

 

My sweet hub has undoubtedly found ample cause to refute some of my commentary, but he’s much too nice to contradict me (at least in public). My children are another story. Even before the internet, they could (and did) correct me when I strayed from the path of verity. And now? With the sum total of the world’s brilliance in those shrunken computers we call phones?? Fuggedaboudit! I am debunked before I even have a chance to bunk! 

 

So, to set the record straight:

 

*Mussels and clams that do not open when cooked can still be fully cooked and safe to eat (who knew? Not me!)

*Michelangelo was standing, not lying down, when he painted the Sistine Chapel ceiling (wait, what?)

*“Irregardless” IS a legit word (horrors!)

*Listening to classical music (esp. Mozart) does NOT boost your IQ (it just burnishes your image as a classy sort of person).

 

As I set sail on the good ship 2026, I vow to do my homework, and stop shooting my mouth off. I don’t need to pretend I am an expert on nuclear fission and Taylor Swift’s romantic history. 

 

I can just ask my 9-year-old grandson.

SUCH a romantic history!