Most of my journeys from my home to anywhere, include driving on a highway.

Be it the grocery store, the bank, into town for lunch or on my way to one of the beach cities on the Central Coast, I’m usually on 46 East, 46 West or the 101.

There, I did it. A unique and regionally specific reference to a freeway using the definite article “the” in front of a road number. For those of you who don’t remember sentence diagramming, a definitive article is a determiner ( the in English) that introduces a noun phrase and implies that the thing mentioned has already been mentioned, or is common knowledge, or is about to be defined (as in the book on the table ; the art of government ; the famous poet and short story writer )[1].

Not being a native Californian, I hear in my own language a mish-mash of ways that I describe a road when giving directions. Sometimes I put “the” in front of the road name,  sometimes not. 30 years of living in Southern California taught me that freeways always have a “the” in front of the number. “Take the 110 to the 405 and wind up the south bay curve…”

Why does it sound natural to my ear for me to drive on 46 East – without the definitive article – and on the 101  -with the definitive article? Turns out it’s an historical accident.

In an article on the KCET website[2], this unique, regionally specific speech pattern is explained. It has to do with the history of freeways. Southern California had a few freeways long before the National Interstate and Defense Highways Act of 1956[3] defined the nations freeways and numbering system. The freeways in So. Cal already had descriptive names. A definitive article before the name made grammatical sense. The Santa Monica Freeway, The San Bernardino Freeway. Numbers were assigned to the existing roads, sometimes multiple numbers to the same named road. For years, road signs had both the name and the number. It wasn’t until new freeways were built, “The San Gabriel River Freeway” and “The Redondo Beach Freeway” in the 1990’s that drivers gave up trying to remember names and went with the numbers. But the definitive article, “the” stayed in usage. People had ingrained the habit, so they said, “the 101, the 405, the 5.”

Being from the Midwest, where we didn’t even call them freeways – they are expressways – I picked up the “the” as I learned to navigate. But when I moved from Southern California to Central California and added new freeway names to my memory bank, they didn’t include the definitive article. Thus, I still drive the 101 (which runs the length of California) and 40 East.

Mish-mash. At least I know why

[1] https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/definite_article

[2] https://www.kcet.org/shows/lost-la/the-5-the-101-the-405-why-southern-californians-love-saying-the-before-freeway-numbers

[3] https://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=true&doc=88

The older man with gray hair and a rugged jeans jacket stood behind me in line at the grocery store. He had an envious selection of goods for 10 am on a Monday morning. Two quarts of ice cream, a bottle of wine and a large bag of mixed candy. When I commented that his choices were more fun than mine, he commended my bananas and low salt soy sauce.

After our transactions were complete and I was heading out I told him to “have a good one.” A cliché, I know. He responded with “you too, ma’am.” MA’AM! I just turned 60 and now I’m “ma’am” to an old guy.

The realization that maybe I was old crept in as I drove home and fumed. After all, I am silver-haired and remember time before the internet, before cell phones, and conversations without emoticons or acronyms for whole sentences, where vocal cords were involved.

Then I wondered if the word “ma’am” was as bad as I made it out to be. Words are powerful. As Dumbledore said, “Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it.”

As a lover of words, I went to the bible, the Oxford English Dictionary, for guidance.

In the North American usage, the word “ma’am” originates in the mid-17^th century as a contraction of madam, “a term of respectful or polite address used for a woman.”

Okay, that’s not insulting. It doesn’t imply age or status. Just gender.

Next the OED covers the British definitions — and here is a good example of how what we speak in American is English in name only.  These definitions make me crave being called “ma’am” more often.

1. A term of address for female royalty. The Queen is called “ma’am”, and no one else.
2. A term of address for a female officer in the police or armed forces who is senior to the speaker.

Then I checked “madam,” since that is where “ma’am” originated.  “Madam” is a modification of the Old French “ma dame, or my lady.” Here is where the term turns shady. Madam in the OED has three definitions.  Again, we have the “used to address or refer to a woman in a polite or respectful way.”  But now we add some formal and informal usage. Formally it is “used to address a woman at the start of a formal or business letter,” and “used before a title to address or refer to a female holder of that position. For example, ‘Madam President’.”  

Informally, a “madam” is, “a conceited or bossy girl or young woman,” or “a woman who runs a brothel.” Ah-ha. There it is! Google famous madams and you get 68,500 results, and a scan of the first few pages doesn’t indicate any famous women presidents.

The upshot of my research is that the use of “sir” and “ma’am” is culturally charged. In the Southern United States, it was taught almost like a religion, and anyone not so taught was (and still is if the comments on the internet are to be believed) seen as course, uncouth, rude, and leading to the downfall of everything that is good and holy. I was taught to be polite, say “yes”, “no” and “thank you.” However, somewhere along the way, I also incorporated the understanding that ma’am is shortened for “madam” and I don’t want that association. Turns out it isn’t an age thing at all – but the implication that I might be a conceited or bossy young woman!

Do you have a word or phrase that intrigues you? Ever wonder where it comes from, or how it became part of common use? Send the word or phrase to me in the comment section and I’ll write a future blog about it.