A few months back, someone complimented me on my wainscoting. After thanking them profusely, I quickly bee-lined to a Webster’s to look it up. There I discovered: It’s the lowest three feet of an interior wall. Interesting. But I need to ask: Who named this? And could it sound less like what it is? Because in my brain, wainscoting is a Beatles lyric. An Irish accordion cover band. A rainy town in Scotland where everyone speaks with a lisp. A forgotten friend from elementary school who oft got pummeled to the ground – Wayne Scoting. Why do we need so many letters to simply describe wood? It’s bewildering. Also too long a word.
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