Tony DeyalSOMETIME IN the 18th century, an unknown European invented a new fly. He was not a scientist. He was a tailor. The fly was the fly-front or closure at the front of the trousers that concealed buttons or other fastenings by having one side overlapping.
Up to that time, the use of the word fly was limited to the act of moving through the air in a controlled manner using aerodynamic forces or operating balloons. Suddenly, new meaning was given to such idioms as a 'fly in the ointment' and 'fly off the handle'. When previously no flies on him was a compliment meaning that someone was no fool, this could now be a challenge to someone's very manhood. Fly-by-night meaning unreliable or untrustworthy, now had an additional and more literal meaning. This also applied to fly-rod, fly-spray, fly-weight, fly-catcher and fly-trap, or even fly-speck. Fly-back, however, continued to retain its relationship to the cathode ray-tube, as in a fly-back transformer. Fly-blown never had any such association. Blow-, horse-, tsetse- (causes sleeping sickness), crane-, dragon-, fire- and house-flies, given the greater linguistic versatility and applicability, actually thrived.
The fly-front was not foolproof. Men forgot to fasten, button or hook. In my youth, when this happened, we would say, "Psst! Your rum shop is open." I have no idea about the choice of the word rum shop except as a dispenser of fluids. However, given the alternative, telling a Trinidadian, particularly one who has just left the rum shop, that his fly is open, would be to create unnecessary confusion. This is what the inventor of the zip fastener or zipper sought to avoid.
In 1937, Esquire magazine declared the zipper the 'Newest Tailoring Idea for Men' and among the zippered fly's many virtues was that it would exclude 'The Possibility of Unintentional and Embarrassing Disarray'. This was wishful thinking. Were it true, feminists would not have been able to ask, "What happens when a man opens his zipper?" His brains fall out. We would not have the new drug, Flyagra. It has been showing great promise in treating men with O.F.D. (Open Fly Disorder). Or even the new slogan, "Flies spread disease, keep yours zipped."
In fact, zippers have become very common in the clothing of both sexes. As a young couple parked in a crowded lovers' lane, the young lady sighed romantically, "It's lovely out here tonight, just listen to the crickets." "Those aren't crickets," her date replied. They're zippers."
My sudden interest in dipterous phenomena (flies) was precipitated by a newspaper report about a talk-show host, Regis Philbin (Live With Regis and Kelly), whose fly was undone during a television programme. Later, Philbin admitted that he will never forget the look on the face of Michael Gelman, the person who drew the matter to his attention. Philbin said, "Gelman was terrified, just terrified."
I decided to leave no stones unturned in my research. The incident had become a major talking point (as most other incidents, trivial or otherwise, in America). Philbin's female co-host on the programme, Kelly, admitted, "In all honesty, I never looked down there, but now I will. Now, I will give you the once over and make sure it's all tucked in and zipped up."
She suggested the use of a code-phrase that would alert him that his zip was open. She proposed, "The chicken is out of the pot!" or "The fighting Irish is out of the field."
While these might be better than, "Your rum shop is open" there might be other and more appropriate options. Or so the suave Mr. Reiss thought. His secretary, a bright young lady named Maggie, was normally very sweet and polite. One day while taking dictation, Maggie noticed that her employer's fly was open. Instead of being terrified she said to him, quite matter-of-factly on leaving the room, "Oh, Mr. Reiss, did you know that your barracks door is open?"
He did not immediately understand her remark, but later on he happened to look down and saw that his zipper was open. He decided to have some fun with his secretary. Calling her in, he asked, "By the way, Maggie, when you saw my barracks door open this morning, did you see a soldier standing at attention?" Maggie blushed and with her head downcast said quite softly, "Why, no, Mr. Reiss. All I saw was a disabled veteran sitting on two old duffel bags."
The best answer of all came from Winston Churchill. Late in his life, as he was sitting in the smoking room of the House of Commons with his fly buttons undone, someone pointed out to him that his dress needed adjusting. Churchill looked at the man and said sharply, "Dead birds don't fall out of nests."
Tony Deyal was last seen agreeing with the old Chinese saying, "Passionate kiss like spider's web, soon lead to undoing of fly."
