So, what then does portmanteau mean and how does it so nicely mesh with the birthday of my father-in-law, Emily’s father, Nigel? My calendar identifies two definitions of portmanteau: (1) a large suitcase and (2) a word or morpheme whose form and meaning are derived from a blending of two or more distinct forms.

In some ways, Sir Nigel D is similar to a large suitcase. (1) He knows how to keep his mouth shut when a woman’s got a hold of him. (2) He’s capable of carrying large quantities of miscellaneous objects. (3) Wears a suit from time to time. (4) Gets drug around on traveler’s whims. Four ways should suffice for the moment, but more striking are the similarities between the birthday boy and the second definition.

How then is this birthday boy similar to two words smashed together to form a new word? Well, first, Nigel is both Emily’s dad and my father-in-law. That’s two roles smashed into one. Secondly, if one were to plumb the depths of this man’s vocabulary, most assuredly this word would be found lurking in the smog. (Smog. That’s a portmanteau of “smoke” and “fog.”) Thirdly, Sir Nigel D’s palate mesmerizing skills, combine many ingredients into one fantastic meal. Fourthly, his combination of literary knowledge, musical prowess, cinematic expertise, culinary acuteness, and peerless humor bring into close relationship with the word of the day.

Well, on second thought, Nigel’s similarity to the second definition of portmanteau is proving to be less persuasive than the first. Maybe the birthday boy is more like a suitcase after all?

Happy Birthday!