Doodlebug (pronounced dood-l-buhg)
(1) In entomology
the larva of an antlion (a group of some 2,000 species of insect in the
neuropteran family Myrmeleontidae, the appellation “doodlebug” an allusion to
the “doodle-like” marks they leave in the sand as tracks of their movement.
(2) In entomology
(UK), a cockchafer (genus Melolontha).
(3) In entomology
(US regional), a woodlouse.
(4) Any
of various small, squat vehicles.
(5) A
divining rod or similar device supposedly useful in locating underground water,
oil, minerals etc.
(6) In
World War II (1939-1945) UK slang, the German cruise missile the V1, (Fs-103,
also known in formally as the “flying bomb” or “buzz bomb”, the latter an
allusion to the distinctive sound made by the craft’s pulse-jet power-plant. The slang began among RAF (Royal Air Force)
personnel and later spread to the general population.
(7) In
US rural slang, as “doodlebug tractor”, a car or light truck converted into tractor
used for small-scale agriculture for a small farm during World War II.
(8) In informal
use, a term of endearment (now rare).
(9) In informal
use, a slackard (an archaic form of slacker) or time-waster (now rare).
(10) In
informal, an idiot (the word used casually rather than in its once defined
sense in mental health).
(11) In
informal use, someone who habitually draws (or doodles) objects).
(12) Individual
self-propelled train cars (obsolete).
(13) A device
claimed to be able to locate oil deposits.
1865-1870:
A coining in US English, the construct being doodle + bug, the first known use as
a US dialectal form (south of the Mason-Dixon line) to describe certain beetles
or larva. Doodle dates from the early
seventeenth century and was used to mean “a fool or simpleton”. It was originally a dialectal form, from dudeldopp (simpleton) and influenced by dawdle
(To spend time idly and unfruitfully; to waste time, pointlessly to linger, to
move or walk lackadaisically; to “dilly-dally”), thus the later use of doodle
to mean “a slackard (slacker) or time-waster”.
The German variants of the etymon included Dudeltopf, Dudentopf, Dudenkopf, Dude and Dödel (and there’s presumably some link with the German dudeln (to play the bagpipe)). There is speculation the Americanism “dude” may
have some link with doodle and the now internationalized (and sometimes
gender-neutral) “dude” has in recent decades become one of slang’s more
productive and variable forms. The song Yankee Doodle long pre-dates the American
Revolutionary War (1775-1783) but it was popularized in the era by being used
as a marching song by British colonial troops and intended to poke fun at their
rebellious opponents. From this use was
derived the verb of the early eighteenth century (to doodle), meaning “to
swindle or to make a fool of”. The
predominant modern meaning (the drawings regarded usually as “small mindless
sketches”) emerged in the 1930s either from this meaning or (s seems to have
greater support), from the verb “to dawdle” which since the seventeenth century
had been used to mean “wasting time; being lazy”. In slang and idiomatic use, doodles uses are
legion including “the penis” and any number of rhyming forms with meanings
ranging from the very good to the very bad.
Bug dates from 1615–1625 and the original use was to describe
insects, apparently as a variant of the earlier bugge (beetle), thought to be an alteration of the Middle English budde, from the Old English -budda
(beetle) by etymologists are divided on whether the phrase “bug off” (please
leave) is related to the undesired presence of insects or was of a distinct
origin. Bug, bugging & debug are
nouns & verbs, bugged is a verb & adjective and buggy is a noun &
adjective; the noun plural is bugs.
Although “unbug” makes structural sense (ie remove a bug, as opposed to
the sense of “debug”), it doesn’t exist whereas forms such as the adjectives
unbugged (not bugged) and unbuggable (not able to be bugged) are regarded as
standard. The array of compound forms
meaning “someone obsessed with an idea, hobby etc) produced things like
“shutterbug” (amateur photographer) & firebug (arsonist) seems first to
have emerged in the mid nineteenth century.
The development of this into “a craze or obsession” is thought rapidly
to have accelerated in the years just before World War I (1914-1918), again
based on the notion of “bitten by the bug” or “caught the bug”, thus the idea
of being infected with an unusual enthusiasm for something. The use to mean a demon, evil spirit, spectre
or hobgoblin was first recorded in the mid-fourteenth century and was a
clipping of the Middle English bugge
(scarecrow, demon, hobgoblin) or uncertain origin although it may have come
from the Middle Welsh bwg (ghost;
goblin (and linked to the Welsh bwgwl
(threat (and earlier “fear”) and the Middle Irish bocanách (supernatural being).
There’s also speculation it may have come from the scary tales told to
children which included the idea of a bugge
(beetle) at a gigantic scale. That would
have been a fearsome sight and the idea remains fruitful to this day for
artists and film-makers needing something frightening in the horror or SF
(science fiction) genre. The use in this
sense is long obsolete although the related forms bugbear and bugaboo
survive. Dating from the 1570s, a
bugbear was in folklore a kind of “large goblin”, used to inspire fear in
children (both as a literary device & for purposes of parental control) and
for adults it soon came to mean “a source of dread, resentment or irritation;
in modern use it's an “ongoing problem”, a recurring obstacle or adversity or
one’s pet peeve. The obsolete form bugg dates from circa 1620 and was a
reference to the troublesome bedbug, the construct a conflation of the middle
English bugge (scarecrow, hobgoblin)
and the Middle English budde
(beetle). The colloquial sense of “a
microbe or germ” dates from 1919, the emergence linked to the
misleadingly-named “Spanish flu” pandemic.
Doodlebug & doodlebugger are nouns and doodlebugging is a verb; the
noun plural is doodlebugs. The forms
have sometimes been hyphenated.
A doodlebug (left) and his (or her) doodles in the sand (right).
That the
word doodlebug has appeal is obvious because since the 1860s it has been
re-purposed many time, often with the hint something “small but not cute”, that
something understandable given the original creature so named (larva of an
antlion) is not one of nature’s more charismatic creations. Doodlebugs are squat little things which live
mostly in loose sand where they create pit traps and genuinely are industrious
creatures, their name earned not because they are idle time-wasters but because
the tracks they leave in the sand are strikingly similar to the doodles people
often wile away their time drawing. The
frankly unattractive ant leave their doodles behind because as they percolate
over the sands, their big butts drag behind them, leaving the erratic trails. So compelling is the name, it has been applied
to a number of other, similar insects. Another
use is attributive from the link with the seventeenth century notion of a
doodle being “a simpleton or time-waster”, extended later to “an idiot” (the word used casually rather than in its once defined sense in mental health);
in the 1930s it came be used of those who incessantly sketch or draw stuff, the
idea being they are squandering their time.
What they draw are called “doodles”, the source of the name for the
artist.
The mid-twentieth century art
(some of its practitioners claiming it was a science) of doodlebugging was practiced
by doodlebuggers who used a method said to be not greatly different from the
equally dubious technique of the water diviner.
All the evidence suggests there was a general scepticism of the claims
that a bent rod waived about above the earth could be used to locate
hydro-carbons and the use of “doodlebuging” to refer to the process was
originally a slur but it became an affectionate name for those intrepid enough
to trek into deserts seeking the “black gold”. In the 1940s when the “profession” was first
described, any reliable means of detecting sub-surface oil deposits simply didn’t
exist (other than drilling a hole in the ground to see if it was there) and the
early doodlebuggers were scam merchants.
The science did however advance (greatly spurred on by the demands of wartime)
and when geologists came to be able to apply the modern machinery of seismic
mapping and actually had success, they too were called doodlebuggers and
happily adopted the name.
Texaco Doodlebug fuel tanker, one of eight built in 1934-1935 during the industry's "streamliner" era. It was a time when art deco's lovely lines appeared in many fields of design.
In the
early twentieth century, a doodlebug was a self-propelled rail car, used on
rail lines which were short in length and subject only to light traffic. These were autonomous vehicles, powered both
by gasoline (it was the pre-diesel era in the US) and electricity and were an
economical alternative for operators, being much cheaper to run than the
combination of large locomotives & carriage cars, eminently suited to lower
passenger numbers. The concept may be
compared with the smaller (often propeller or turbo-prop) aircraft used on
regional & feeder routes where the demand wouldn’t make the use of a larger
airliner viable. Although the doodlebugs
carried relative few passengers, their operating costs were correspondingly
lower so the PCpM (passenger cost per mile) was at least comparable with the
full-sized locomotives. While it may be
a myth, the story is that one rail employee described the small, stumpy rail
car as looking like a “potato bug” and (as English informal terms tend to do)
this morphed into the more appealing doodlebug.
A
doodlebug could also be a DIY (do it yourself) tractor. During the Great Depression of the 1930s, the
smaller-scale farmers in the US no longer had the capital (or access to
capital) to purchase plant and equipment on the same scale as in more
prosperous times but they needed still to make their land productive and one of
the modern tools which had transformed agriculture was the tractor. New tractors being thus unattainable for
many, necessity compelled many to turn to what was available and that was the
stock of old cars and pickup trucks, now suddenly cheaper because the Depression
had lowered demand for them as well. With
saws and welding kits, imaginative and inventive farmers would crop & chop and
slice & dice until they had a vehicle which would do much of what a tractor
could and according to the legends of the time, some actually out-performed the
real thing because their custom design was optimized for a specific, intended
purpose. What made the modifications possible
in the engineering sense was that it was a time when cars and pick-ups were
almost always built with a separate chassis; the bodies could be removed and it
was possible still to drive the things and it was on these basic platforms the “doodlebug”
tractors were fashioned. They were known
also as “scrambolas”, “Friday night specials” and “hacksaw tractors” but it was
“doodlebug” which really caught on and so popular was the practice that kits
were soon advertised in mail-order catalogues (the Amazon of the day and a long
tradition in the rural US). Not until
the post-war years when economic conditions improved and production of
machinery for civilian use resumed at full-scale did the doodlebug industry
end.
1946 Brogan Doodlebug (right) with 1942 Pontiac Torpedo (left).
Although
now what’s most remembered about the US cars of the post-war era are the huge
and extravagantly macropterous creations, there were more than two dozen
manufacturers in the 1940s & 1950s which offered “micro-cars”, aimed at (1)
female drivers, (2) inner-city delivery services and (3) urban drivers who
wanted something convenient to manoeuvre and park. The market however proved unresponsive and as
the population shift to the suburbs accelerated, women wanted station wagons (in
many ways the emblematic symbol of suburban
American of the 1950s) and the delivery companies needed larger capacity. As the VW Beetle and a few other niche
players would prove during that decade’s “import boom”, Americans would buy
smaller cars, just not micro-cars which even in Europe, where they were for a
time successful, the segment didn’t survive to see the end of the 1960s. But there was the Brogan Doodlebug, made by the
B&B Specialty Company of Rossmoyne, Ohio and produced between 1946-1950
although that fewer than three dozen were sold hints at the level of demand at
a time when Detroit’s mass-production lines were churning out thousands of “standard
sized” car a day.
Somewhat optimistically (though etymologically defensible) described as a “roadster”, the advertising for the Doodlebug exclusively featured women drivers and it certainly was in some ways ideal for urban use (except perhaps when raining, snowing, in cold weather, under harsh sun etc). It used a three wheeled chassis with the single wheel at the front, articulated so the vehicle could turn within its own length so parking would have been easy, the thing barely 96 inches (2440 mm) in length & 40 inches (1020 mm) wide; weighing only some 442 lbs (200 kg), it was light enough for two strong men to pick it up and move it. Powered by either a single or twin-cylinder rear-mounted engine (both rated at a heady 10 horsepower (7.5 kW)) no gearbox was deemed necessary thus no tiresome gear levers or clutch pedals were there to confuse women drivers and B&B claimed a fuel consumption up to 70 mpg (US gallon; 3.4 L/100 km) with a cruising speed of 45-50 mph (70-80 km/h). All this for US$400 and remarkably, it seems it wasn’t until 1950 (after some 30 doodlebugs had been built over four years) the cost-accountants looked at the project and concluded B&B were losing about US$100 on each one sold. A price-rise was ruled out so production ended and although B&B released the Broganette (an improved three-wheeler with the single wheel at the rear which provides much better stability), it was no more successful and the company turned to golf carts and scooters which proved much more lucrative. B&B later earned a footnote in the history of motorsport as one of the pioneer go-kart manufacturers.
Annotated schematic of the V-1 (left) and a British Military Intelligence drawing (dated 16 June 1944, 3 days after the first V-1 attacks on London (right).
First deployed in 1944 the German Vergeltungswaffen eins (“retaliatory weapon 1” or "reprisal weapon 1” and eventually known as the V-1) was the world’s first cruise missile. One of the rare machines to use a pulse-jet, it emitted such a distinctive sound that those at whom it was aimed nicknamed it the “buzz-bomb” although it attracted other names including “flying bomb” and “doodlebug”. In Germany, before Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897–1945; Reich Minister of Propaganda 1933-1945) decided it was the V-1, the official military code name was Fi 103 (The Fi stood for Fieseler, the original builder of the airframe and most famous for their classic Storch (Stork), short take-off & landing (STOL) aircraft) but there were also the code-names Maikäfer (maybug) & Kirschkern (cherry stone). While the Allied defenses against the V-1 did improve over time, it was only the destruction of the launch sites and the occupation of territory within launch range that ceased the attacks. Until then, the V-1 remained a highly effective terror weapon but, like the V-2 and so much of the German armaments effort, bureaucratic empire-building and political intrigue compromised the efficiency of the project.