Word of the Day: lugubrious

I’m writing this from the past, to be seen in the future, in a bid to stay ahead. By my calculations, it will arrive in your e-mail or on your screen on Wednesday, which means the week is half over for you,  and still beginning for me. Of course, I could also just be pretending.

Today’s Word:


As in:

The two travelers were making steady progress west. At night, they often took out their tourist map of California, and debated the best way to get to Magic Mountain. Hector was convinced that it must be part of the Magic Kingdom.

“It’s a whole kingdom of magic! Where else would it be? It’s probably a mountain right in the center of the kingdom, and you can see it anywhere in the land, and it’s probably sacred, and many are afraid of it and its might power.”

Marshall shook his head. “I think it’s this place, more to the north of that kingdom. We’re coming from the north, we can just stop by and check. It’s a long walk to that southern kingdom, and then we’ll save ourselves from back tracking all that way. This land is large, and I’m tired of all this walking.”

Hector insisted every chance he had that it had to be part of the Magic Kingdom. Marshall was losing resolve. 

After many long days of travel, Hector and Marshall saw a sight which filled them with hope that the long journey might soon be over. It was a simple road sign, but, it was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen. The sign “Welcomed” them to California. Now was the time to decide. Go  south, or check the northern option.

“Time to go south, I think,” said Hector.

And Marshall, tired of arguing, nodded, and they headed for the Magic Kingdom.

It took many days. The terrain had become very difficult and strange. The ground was mostly smooth stone, and fast moving creatures travelled along the black stone ribbons with yellow stripes. The creatures had metallic flesh and an aggressive temperament. They made loud bleating noises, and were, on the whole, terrifying.

Hector was tired of Marshall’s new lugubrious demeanor. He had been so looking forward to seeing this Magic Mountain, and now that they were so close, he’d turned downright depressing.

“Cheer up, friend! We’ll be there soon. The map says this Magic Kingdom is the Happiest Place on Earth. Between that and the end of our travels in this world of noise and stone ought to make you feel good enough to fly!”

Instantly, he knew he’d gone too far.

“What do you know about flying? Do you know that every time I fly, I feel ill? I hate the swooping sensations, and the lack of footing. It’s horrible for me! It’s easier to pretend I can’t fly than explain how much I hate it! I had hoped that this Magic Mountain might cure me, but, now, I’m not sure I even care. Now I just want out of this place.”

“I’m sorry Marshall. I… I didn’t mean it. Look. There! It’s that three circle emblem. We must be close!” Hector bowed his head, and nodded towards the sign. “You OK?”

“Yeah. Let’s get this over with.” Marshall’s eyes didn’t meet Hector’s.

The sun was setting, and the park seemed to be alive with activity, as it appeared that the parade was forming. Hector and Marshall had no idea what to do, so they approached the gates.

“Aha! Very good costumes! hurry up, you’re on the Fantasy of Light float. Line up over there!” The two nodded, and got in line.

“Costumes? He thinks these are costumes? What is this place?” Hector looked confused.

“Just go with it. I think we’d better not push this one…” said Marshall.

They lined up for the parade, and from their vantage point along the parade route, they saw a few possible candidates for *the* Mountain, but everything seemed very wrong. They decided to ask someone after the parade.

“Excuse me,” asked Marshall cautiously. “Do you know where Magic Mountain is?”

“You’re at Disneyland. You were in the parade. How dare you mention Magic Mountain here?!” He marched off in disgust.

Marshall found another person, and tried a different approach. “Have you ever been to Magic Mountain?”

“Yeah. Great coasters. It’s up north. In Valencia, part of Santa Clarita.

The dreaded answer had been given. They had made the wrong choice.

Marshall had no idea what a coaster was, but, he did know that it was going to be another long trek across unyielding stone paths.

We’re getting closer, I think. The future is exhausting, by the way.

lugubrious / lug – OO – bree – us /  mournful, especially exaggeratedly or affectedly mournful.