Rubbernecker is one of the funniest words I’ve ever heard. When I typed it, I was still surprised to see that it is, in fact, a word, recognizable by my Word program and not underlined as some ungodly misspelled Frankenstein compound world creation. I thought that it would at least be slang; when I looked it up, I saw that it stems from the actual activity of “rubbernecking,” or gawking at an activity or scene. You might think we could come up with something more creative; looky-loo, which is not a recognized term, is a little more fun to use, I think.

The problem with rubbernecker—or rubbernecking, which sounds worse—is that it sort of sounds sexual. I think it’s simply because of the connotation you get with the word “rubber,” as in condoms. My mom told me that in the 80's, the term “Rubbermaid” even had a sexual connotation, which is pretty unoriginal and boring, if you ask me. If you’re going to coin something scandalous, at least make it more exciting than kitchen storage containers.

I hear the term “rubbernecker” on television the other night while my husband was watching some ridiculous TruTV show—one of the world’s stupidest criminals or idiots caught on tape or whatever they call it. I can’t stand these shows, though he doesn’t seem to care (the man won’t dare watch Glee or Law and Order: SVU with me, mind you, but I’m supposed to sit through this awful television while I work in the most comfortable room of the house).

The announcer was remarking on a rubbernecker who caused an accident with such an ominous voice—you know the voice; the really dramatic, deep voice-over they use when Denzel Washington is going to save a train or when Sarah Michelle Gellar is being stalked by something—that I stopped what I was doing and burst out laughing.

My husband asked what was so funny, and I replied, “He makes it sound like the rubbernecker is actually a monster. It’s the latest Hollywood blockbuster! ‘The zombies and werewolves were on the roof, and just when Neve Campbell thought it couldn’t get any worse, the rubberneckers were at the door!”

He didn’t like that.

I went on:

“Late last night and the night before,

Rubberneckers, rubberneckers knocking at my door!

Want to go out, don’t know if I can,

‘Cause I’m so afraid of the rubbernecker man!”

He changed the channel.

Of course, we argued a little; he could easily watch it in the bedroom (“But that’s not in HD! And I might wake up the kid!”), I could easily stop commenting or listen to my headphones (“Um, hello, writing here!”). In the end, I did end up with my headphones, and my new ominous word of the month. I’ve been trying to use the word rubbernecker as often as I can, but it just doesn’t seem as ridiculous to anyone but me. My aunt gave me a good laugh, but that’s just because her sense of humor is apparently as crazy as my own.