Anyone with a grade school education knows that the opposite of 'like' is 'dislike'; the opposite of 'agree' is 'disagree'; the opposite of 'disobey' is 'obey'.  It's basic grammar: prefixes change the base words they are attached to in predictable ways.  But what about the opposite of 'disheveled'?  Last summer, when our daughter got married, I think her mother and I were pretty well put together.  Does that mean we were heveled? I am often reminding my middle school students, "If you come in late, don't disrupt what we're doing."  Should I tell them, instead, to rupt the class when they enter?  Should their goal be to create, not a disruption, but rather a ruption when they enter? My desk is often discombobulated; but should I strive to have a desk that is combobulated? After all, why should my desk be disgusting when it should be gusting instead? Then there's the student who is always challenging school policy.  Should I say, "I'm tired of discussing the rules with you. From now on, I want us to cuss the rules!"  And remember when it seemed like every other day there was another disgruntled postal worker in the news.  But I have a brother who worked for the US Postal Service for years and sincerely liked and appreciated his job.  Was he a gruntled postal worker? It's enough to cause one to feel disdain for grammar, but I know, as a teacher, I should have dain for such an important subject.  

But how can one feel dain for grammar when you think about another common prefix: 'non'?  We all know the opposite of nonsense is sense; the opposite of nonprofit is profit, etc.  However, a shoplifter tries hard to act nonchalantly; Does that mean an obviously anxious shoplifter would be described as chalant? The nonchalant one is justified in being nonplussed if he's caught, but the chalant one should be very plussed when he gets caught.  

I decided recently that these unheard of, never used base words (or what my fifth grade English teacher, Mrs. Jones called 'root words') needed to be put into use, and I was the one to do it. Of course, this is radical ground was setting foot on, so it is no wonder I was very, very chalant.

Nevertheless, I stopped in at the mechanic where my car was bring repaired and told him, "I want to create a ruption, but I notice my car is still dismantled. When will you mantle it?"

Mechanic: blank stare.

Me:  "Come on; have you even been working on it today?  You're still heveled and your garage is combobulated?"

Mechanic: blank, angry stare.

Me:  "Dain me, and don't go getting gruntled! "

Mechanic:  Blank, angry stare while threateningly picking up a monkey wrench.

Me:  "We talked about this once, the next time I come in I want to be able to cuss it with you."

Mechanic:  Couldn't really tell what he was doing, because at this point I was running out of his shop as fast as I could go.

As reflect back on this experiment, I see how this conversation could have gotten on his nerves.  I should be plussed.