Category Archives: diazeugma

Diazeugma (di-a-zoog’-ma): The figure by which a single subject governs several verbs or verbal constructions (usually arranged in parallel fashion and expressing a similar idea); the opposite of zeugma.

Walking, tripping, stumbling, and falling I skinned my knee. Everybody else kept going. We were headed to the airport to watch Flying Elvis jump from a Piper Cub with red and green smoke bombs duct-taped to his ankles. The jump was for the last episode of “Ersatz Elvis,” a documentary on Elvis impersonators that had run for a year on HULU, and had the largest fan-base of any program in television history. It inspired the spin-off “Doing Do Ho,” which begins production on the island of Kwai next month.

Today, Flying Elvis was adding a twist to his jump. He was going to wear only a white Speedo swimsuit—a banana hammock. We did not know why he was doing this, unless the reports of his flagging popularity were true. We had seen publicity pictures of him in the swimsuit. He impersonated a later-stage Elvis, so the pictures weren’t exactly easy to look at. Maybe he had an advertising deal with Speedo, but we didn’t care. We were looking forward to mobbing him on the drop zone and getting his autograph to complete our “Ersatz Elvis” scrapbooks.

The Piper Cub was a dot in the sky as it circled the drop zone. Suddenly, Flying Elvis came hurtling out of the door, colored smoke billowing from his ankles. Through the smoke we could see he wasn’t wearing a parachute! The crowd gasped and somebody screamed. Just when we thought he would end his life as a pile of gore right in front of our eyes, fifteen men ran onto the drop zone carrying a giant trampoline. Flying Elvis was falling feet first. If he hit the trampoline right, he might survive the fall and bounce fifty feet into the air. That’s when I realized Flying Elvis’s free fall had to be part of the act. Why else would they have a giant trampoline standing by?

Flying Elvis hit the trampoline and tore right through it like it was made of paper. The trampolines was no match for Flying Elvis’ girth. To our amazement, we heard an Elvis-sounding voice coming from under the trampoline: “Baby, I’m all shook up.” The crowd cheered as Flying Elvis crawled out from under the trampoline, wearing a slightly soiled banana hammock. It was disgusting, but it was what we lived for as fans of “Ersatz Elvis.” I got his autograph and pulled out one of his chest hairs, bagged it, and limped away. I needed to find a Band-Aid for my skinned knee.

“Doing Don Ho” is next up. “Tiny Bubbles” made my hands shake when I was a teenager. It made me want to drink champagne with the girl who worked at the bowling shoe counter at “Fast Lane.” I couldn’t afford champagne, so I bought a six pack of Iron City beer with my fake I.D. that said I was Julius Cesar. The beer had tiny bubbles & that’s all I needed. I waited outside Fast Lane until closing when the shoe girl would head home. She came out, and almost simultaneously a robin-egg blue ‘57 Chevy pulled up and she jumped in and took off. The car had a continental kit on the back with an erupting volcano pictured on it with “I’m Gonna Erupt” painted under the picture.

I popped open an Iron City and threw the pop-top on the already litter-covered asphalt. I lit a Lucky and headed toward the woods behind Fast Lane. I sat on a log sipping my beer—enjoying my tiny bubbles. As I polished off my first can, I heard a familiar female voice a little farther in the woods say “Next.” I walked toward the voice and my world fell apart when I saw who it was. It was my mother! She was selling stolen Hula Hoops.

Definition courtesy of Silva Rhetoricae (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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