A posslq can easily become a dink, but a dibip will someday end in dinkah-hood

“Remembering your fondness for spslq , and hoping I have it right,” writes Owen Thomas, professor of linguistics, education and English at UC Irvine, “I thought you might enjoy the enclosed piece, which I wrote for my students in a course titled, ‘The Structure of American English.’ I’d also like to know what additional and related acronyms your fertile brain might suggest. . . .”

I believe the word that Thomas recalls I’m fond of is posslq , not spslq . Posslq is an acronym for the Bureau of Census category Persons of Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters, and I have made some feeble attempts to popularize it. It is neat, amusing and needed; but I’m afraid it hasn’t really caught on. Not that the situation it describes has lost favor.

I don’t know what Thomas imagined spslq means, but since he’s coined the word we ought to find a meaning for it. What about single persons sharing living quarters? That leaves too many uncertainties. They could be single persons of the same sex. They could be living together but not cohabiting. One wants to know more. Of course, persons of opposite sex sharing living quarters could be living together without cohabiting, too, but I doubt if that’s what the Census Bureau had in mind.

The word that fascinates Thomas is also neat, amusing and needed.

It is dink , and it means double income, no kids. That seems to define a special kind of yuppie, and I think it would be a useful addition to our vocabularies.

Thomas notes that he first saw it used in a recent View section story by Nikki Finke in which Tom O’Sullivan, an advertising executive, was quoted as saying “ Dink is just a great word. It’s like a good dirty joke. It makes it from coast to coast in seconds.”

I have no doubt that dinks, with all that spendable income, would be of great interest to advertising executives, although they of course wouldn’t be a great market for toys and baby food.

But Thomas is interested in it as a linguist. He fears, however, that it does pose some grammatical problems.

He wonders whether you can have just one dink, or whether they come in pairs, “like a span of horses.

“Maybe it’s only a word you can think , rather than say. Still, it does fill a void, and it’s much more precise than yuppie .”

I see no problem with whether it’s singular or plural. A dink is obviously one of a couple who live together (presumably married, presumably of opposite sex), share two incomes, and have no children. Together, they are dinks.

It is indeed a useful word because it describes one of the several common relationships that occur in our diversified society.

But dink is an ephemeral word. The condition of having two incomes and no kids can evaporate very suddenly. First the extra income goes, then the absence of children.

Apparently that would leave us nothing to call them, because dink obviously cannot be altered to accommodate children.

But Thomas has thought up a word to describe at least the woman who is currently part of a dink pair but is soon to lose that status. He would call her a dibip (double income, but I’m pregnant).

“It seems appropriately chivalrous that no comparable term designating the prospective father comes quickly to mind.” Then after the baby is born it’s back to yuppie , there being no word for double income, one kid. Diok doesn’t work.

Assuming that dinks are married to each other (though they don’t have to be), Thomas wants to find words for various singles.

“There’s a certain sadness to sinsok ,” he says. “Single income, no spouse. One kid.”

Indeed, that is a common situation, and it doesn’t sound happy.

“In contrast,” says Thomas, carried away by the possibilities, “there’s a touch of lightness in sibihalf . Single income but I have a live-in friend. Sibihalfs, of course, can be of either sex, and many will become dinks.

“And for some married couples with only one partner working, we probably need sibim --single income, but I moonlight.

“There’s also the unfortunate condition of being a nilok. No income, lots of kids, with never a chance of being a dink; or the equally unfortunate nilow--no income, living on welfare.”

Really stretching his mind, Thomas imagines that a particularly successful dink might become a ditypaw --dividend income, Thank you Paine and Webber. “There’s a true rhythm in that,” he points out.

“But my favorite,” he adds, “probably since it describes my wife and me and our recently emptied nest, is dinkah --double income, no kids at home. And unlike some dinks, who feel ‘vaguely insulted,’ according to the article, we’re proud and happy to be dinkahs.”

As a dinkah myself, I’m not sure I like that word, but, as the saying goes, if the shoe fits. . . .

I’m afraid my mind is not as fertile as Thomas’, but I’m wondering if he hasn’t left some relationships unnamed.

What about the prospective father who, as Thomas says, is “chivalrously” unnamed. Perhaps this fellow could be called a diebow --double income evaporating, baby on way. Or, more in keeping with his reduced prospects for fun, freedom and frivolity-- godag , for good old days are going.

WASP is a term that is already in use, but wasp might stand for woman alone, single parent.

Most of them are too contrived, but dink , I agree, is a wonderful word--even if there is something missing in the relationship.