Lileks: Taco Tuesday is now for everyone

Taco John's has been fighting to hold the copyright to the term "Taco Tuesday," but now they're letting it slip from their tired grasp. They'd been fighting with Taco Bell, which sought to wrest the phrase from the smaller company, saying the phrase "should be freely available to all who make, sell, eat and celebrate tacos."

Hearing that the phrase was copyrighted makes everyone wonder: Do I owe them royalties? Because I've been saying that for years: "Time to plan the week's meals. Well, we can start with Taco Tuesday."

Somehow we all got hypnotized into producing crisp shells filled with spiced meat simply because it was Tuesday. The day is named after the Norse god of war, Tyr, so it's not exactly the most natural connection. Unless Tyr was appeased with cheese and lettuce.

You'd think Thorsday would be better, considering he was the god of thunder.

Taco John's was my introduction to tacos, because they opened a stand in Fargo before Taco Bell did. As typical North Dakotans in the early '70s, we were wary of this foreign food with its tongue-bedeviling qualities, and we approached the store like the apes in "2001: A Space Odyssey," hooting with fear and false bravado at the monolith. Eventually, we tried the tacos, and were instant converts to this thing called "spice."

But we never felt compelled to have them on Tuesday. That would dislodge Tater-Tot Tuesday, and Tyr might smite us for our heresy.

There is no other food-day pairing that works as well as Taco Tuesday. Think about it. Taco Thursday is limp, because it's a hard T and a fricative "th." Before you write with complaints, yes, it's a voiceless interdental non-sibilant fricative, but I'm writing for a mass audience here.

Meatloaf Monday. It looks heavy. It sounds heavy. It's like a dump truck pulling up to the kitchen. Monday does feel like meatloaf sometimes, a big slab of moist meat you have to get through, and while meatloaf is good for any day — it's one of the better entrees that has two sets of vowels — Meatloaf Monday sounds more like a chore than a meal.

Ptarmigan Tuesday. This is a bird, roasted and seasoned. Wait, you say, that's a P! But it's a consonant blend that sounds like T. So it's technically Tarmigan Tuesday. The chain would have a mascot — Pthomas Ptarmigan wouldn't work, because everyone would say "what? P-Thomas?" Or possibly "puhth-omas." It's easy to see why Col. Sanders went with chickens instead of ptarmigans. So maybe PTony Ptarmigan.

Besides, no one ever orders Ptarmigan, because, well, have you tried it? Ptui.

Wimpy Wednesdays. This wouldn't work well in the United States, where the Wimpy's hamburger chain still has seven outlets, but it might do well internationally.

"Ah," you say, "the problem here is that the 'w' sound is a labio-velar approxmant, and as such does not have the arresting quality of a consonant like T." You are correct. You could go with something that has more syllables, like "Watercress Wednesdays," but no one likes Watercress. Makes a nice ptarmigan garnish, though.

Fish Friday is obvious, given the longstanding religious tradition of ending the workweek with a piscine-based supper.

"Actually," you say, "Friday was not the end of the workweek until recently; Saturday labor, albeit often a half-day only, was the norm in industrialized society until workers' rights movements made significant advances, along with the increased productivity afforded by mechanization."

But that really doesn't matter. Nothing works well with Saturday or Sunday, because the S sound — a sibilant — is too loosey-goosey. Spaghetti Sunday sounds like some needlessly inventive dessert available at the State Fair. No, Taco Tuesday has a crisp commanding sound like no others, and that's probably why no other day has a signature dish.

Perhaps Taco John's could strike back by trademarking longer periods of time. It's Burrito Biennial! Or Fajita Fortnight!

I said fortnight, with an O, not an A.