I'm possessed by demonyms today.
Demonyms are words that describe residents of a locale. Residents of Columbus are Columbusites, for example.
They could just as easily be Columbusians or even Columbians (as the people of Columbus, Miss., call themselves). But the world of demonyms has little predictability and few rules.
"Tradition, folklore and custom are in full play here," Paul Dickson says in the 2006 update of his book Labels for Locals: What To Call People From Abilene to Zimbabwe.
"How else could one explain the fact that a common name for a resident of Schenectady, N.Y., is Dorpian?" (It comes from a Dutch word for "village.")
My favorite Ohio demonym is Piquad (PIHK-wahd), the term for one who lives in Piqua in Miami County. The Piqua newspaper uses it frequently in headlines.
"Not our favorite term," said Jim Oda, a historian and the director of the Flesh Public Library.
The press, he said, originated it in the 1880s, probably to meet the needs of headline writers.
"I wish it were Piquonian," said Debbie Stein, secretary to the Piqua city manager. "Piquad doesn't sound real appealing."
On the other hand, it's quaint (maybe even Piquaint). In a state full of Daytonians and Clevelanders, a Piquad stands out.
I'm also fond of East Liverpool's demonym: East Liverpudlian.
The town on the Ohio River in Columbiana County was named for Liverpool, England, whose residents are called Liverpudlians -- hence the Ohio derivative.
I learned this from Joan Witt, the East Liverpool historian. She also explained why a place well west of its namesake dubbed itself East Liverpool: When the town was naming itself, it had to add the directional term to differentiate it from Liverpool in Medina County.
The town has had fun with its British demonym, even using it in a slogan: "We're not big enough to be a pool; therefore we're a puddle."
(By the way, don't look for demonym in most dictionaries. It's a recent coinage, but please start using the word so Webster's and American Heritage will give it the recognition it deserves. )
Yellow Springs, the Greene County home to the freethinkers of Antioch College, has demonym diversity.
Adrienne Chesire, Chamber of Commerce coordinator, said "townies" is the term she hears most.
Diane Chiddister, editor of the Yellow Springs News, said, "I find that folks who live here most often refer to themselves as villagers."
The News also uses the term Yellow Springers. But shouldn't that be Yellow Springsers? Chiddister said that no one has complained about the grammar.
No such disagreement exists in South Point, which lends itself to an obvious, if somewhat canine, demonym: Pointers.
"If you talk about Pointers, they'll know what you're talking about," said Scott Thomas, village clerk in the Lawrence County community.
It's also the name of the high school's sports teams.
Some places take a pass on the most obvious demonyms.
No congressmen live in the Wayne County village of Congress. Nor does Moscow, in Clermont County, have any Muscovites, even though its namesake in Russia does, village Administrator Sandra Ashba said.
So what does one call people from Moscow?
People from Moscow, she said.
Joe Blundo is a Dispatch columnist.
jblundo@dispatch.com
