To start, this is a definition from an old Webster's New World Dictionary, copyright 1972:
"cal*li*pyg*I*an (kal'ə pij'ə an) adj. [Gr. kallipygos < kallos, beauty + pyge, buttocks] having shapely buttocks."
It's hard to know, exactly, when I learned this word. I'm going to say it was 1974, or so. I do remember who it was that introduced me to it, a guy I worked with named Angelo Olivo (such a good Irish name...). We were walking past the "Quarterdeck" (actually the main entrance to Fleet Combat Direction Systems Training Center, San Diego), and Angie stopped at a big, unabridged dictionary that stood on a pedestal on the Quarterdeck. "Lemme show you a great word."
I would chuckle throughout the day, thinking about this addition to my vocabulary, but the unspoken challenge, "Now try to use it appropriately" kept coming to mind. How does one use the word? What variations are there? Most modern dictionaries do not contain the word, and Rogert's Thesaurus has no synonyms. It would be considered "sexist" today, yet the word is not gender-specific.
See, I love words. I love to ponder them, look at them, understand their origins, to take them apart and see what they're made of. I was raised to be a reader. I read Mark Twain's The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, when I was seven, and could have passed any high school test even then. In 1964, I did one book report on James A. Michner's Hawaii, and another on Arthur Slessinger's The Thousand Days, a non-fiction report of John F. Kennedy's administration, and the assassination in Dallas. My 8th grade English teacher thought that I'd fail on both, but was very surprised to get clear and concise reviews of both. That more than made up for not doing much else, I've never really "done" homework, too mundane, too mind-numbing. Reading assignments, OK, but answering questions? Particularly the really stupid ones they put in textbooks... But I digress...
For six years, I carried this great word with me and didn't have an opportunity to use it. To someone like me, it was like an itch that can't be scratched. Just under the skin, you know it's there, but you just can't see it. I finally found suitable variants like "callipygic," which fit better as an "-ic" than an "-an," and opened up an opportunity for me to use it. The opportunity came when it was decided that I would "first draft" annual evaluations for the E5's and below. I did a number of them, and got to an E3 named "Jackie". Jackie was from Paris, Texas, and lived a few blocks from the bar made famous by the movie "Urban Cowboy". Petite, blond, cute as all get-out, with this great Texas accent, Jackie was an outstanding worker, and a credit to women in uniform.
In the late 1970's and early 1980's, one of the criteria in the written evaluation was to describe the personal appearance of the person being evaluated, both in uniform as well as civilian clothing. I'm starting to write the words, "[Jackie]'s personal appearance, both in uniform as well as civilian clothing is..." After six years, I was a little slow on the uptake, and didn't see the opportunity for what it was.
I was stationed at the Enlisted Personnel Management and Accounting Center (EPMAC), New Orleans, LA. The fact that I was doing draft evals of anyone was something new. I was a fairly senior E6, but above me in the Chain of Command was an E7 who was 3 units short of his BA in Personnel Management, an E9 with a PhD in Human Behavior and Leadership, an O2 with a BA in business, and an O5 with an MBA. At the time, I was just a high school grad, who liked to play with words.
OK, I finally got it, erased the sentence, and re-wrote it, "[Jackie] presents a very callipygic appearance both in uniform and civilian clothing." I stuck it in the middle of the pile, and turned everything over to the Chief. He went through them, made a few modifications, and sent it on to the Master Chief. "Massa" (long story, but he said to address him that way), did the same, and passed them on to the LTjg, who passed them on to the Commander. Seven days later, I'm at my desk, focused on a task, and a piece of paper with a red circle on it is thrust in front of my face by a hand connected to three gold braids on a blue sleeve, the Commander. I turn to him, "Sir? May I help you?"
The Commander points to the red circle on the page, and says, very sternly, "You can't say that in an eval."
It just so happened that Jackie was, at that very moment, standing bent-over a desk, writing a phone call note for someone. I looked over my shoulder, turned back to the Commander, and said, "It's true."
I watched the Commander's eyes, so I know he looked, but he points at the red circle again and says, "Yeah. But you can't say that in an evaluation," and we both started laughing.
I told him that I did it, knowing full-well that someone would catch it, at some point. The fact that it originated from a guy with a high school diploma, and passed through three college-educated people before it got caught was not lost on my Department Head.
I voluntarily told the young lady involved what I had done, and had her look the word up so she'd know I wasn't making something up. She laughed, half turned, and looked towards her rear, and said, "Shapely? That's certainly nice of y'all, but I always thought it was too skinny."
I suppose that I can no longer run for public office (not that I've ever considered it), having admitted to making a joke about a woman's butt.
