What's a Doozy?(Column)

Byline: Kevin A. Wilson

A lot of us have been living under a delusion. Don't worry, I'm not about to warn that we're running out of petroleum or that France is the only potential salvation of the world's auto industry.

It's just that a light blinked on for me a few months ago, and I was recently reminded of it on the occasion of this summer's Meadow Brook Concours d'Elegance, featuring a raft of Duesenbergs. This led, of course, to the inevitable spelling debate. Local papers carried several variations of "It's a doozy!'' or "It's a Duesey!''

The latter stems from the notion that the expression derives from the name of the car. It's a logical assumption. The very form of the phrase practically drips with the aura of the Roaring '20s, flappers, gangsters, speak-easies and all. That "It's a doozy'' was a car-related expression is an idea held by this noggin since the day, as a young lad, I was stunned to silence by my first sighting of the Clark Gable SSJ in some book or other (Purdy maybe?). Such elegance, such power, such grace had existed in cars built before even my parents had been born? Clearly I was missing something, and my car world expanded beyond the sights and sounds on the streets of Detroit and the far-off wonders on the pages of the car magazines.

In my voracious pursuit of car-history truth in the age of Fred and August, I absorbed from several sources that the sight of a Duesenberg driving by had such an effect on people that it had inspired an expression of superlative delight all its own.

So, for me, it was a "Duesey.'' And so it has been on the pages of this magazine (at least, when we're paying attention to our stylebook) since the day, long ago, that someone asked me to help them make the call in editing a story.

Ah, but I was wrong, sadly misled by my own passions and blinders-on view of the world. And, so, thanks to the likes of me ...