English

Yes, I did sound grumpy yesterday, and I apologize.  I guess depression makes me grumpy. So you've been warned.

I took speech classes for 7 years.  First grade to 7th grade.

I was taken out of reading class to go to my speech class. I was made fun of for this, and I hated it. But I loved the people in my class. Especially Heather, who could not say her TH's or her S's.  But she had a monkey in her home, and that thrilled me. Of course, my mom said it was terrible. "Imagine how that house must smell."

I didn't care; I wanted to go to her house and see her monkey. She brought in pictures, but I wanted to touch it, hold it. But never got to damn it. 

I know I've told you this before,  but it's been 14 yrs  :-)

I could not say my Rs, and I would stutter occasionally.  Especially when I was trying not to, as funny as that sounds.

I spoke like Bugs Bunny's friend Elmer Fudd. Wabbit, Wadio, Wick.  Yep, that was me.  I still, from time to time, slip, and boy, Rick catches it so quickly. 

I swear on my mother's grave that this is the only time that man is actually listening to me. 

When working in Manhattan, I would stop at a pharmacy that I had difficulty saying without the first word, then stop and say the 2nd word. Put them together, and I sound like Elmer Fudd.  Duane Reade was the pharmacy.

Duane Weade it would become if it was said together. After all these years, that one still gets me.

 

The ever-loving ball buster, Rick (or wick), would say, "What's that pharmacy in NY where you got xyz?"  I knew what he was doing, so I'd tell him CVS.  He would just laugh. I usually gave him the finger after that too and laughed.

The other day at a doctor's office, the nurse told me I had such good diction. I laughed and thought about ole Elmer Fudd. I just said thank you. She asked if I took speaking lessons. I told her no, but in grade school I did take speech classes for a stutter and my R's.  She also said, "I thought maybe it was just because you were from up north."  I just laughed to myself at that thinking. 

What do they think is going on above the Mason-Dixon line?

That evening Rick and I got settled onto the couch to watch a movie on a streaming service. We had to stop the movie. Every woman spoke like it was a question. 

Up-speak, we call it.  I have a drink in my hand?  Oh my, that was annoying after a while. Their speech patterns were so weird and a bit Californian that we just couldn't stomach the show.  I turned to Rick and said, "Why didn't they get to go to speech class to learn how to speak?"  He laughed and said he thinks that generation thinks it's cool to speak like they haven't had an education.  That made me laugh.

Then I said, "God, Rick, we're so fucking old."  

We then found another movie where they were British, and I just couldn't understand a thing they said unless I had closed captions on.  It was a night of different languages.  All English. Yet neither of which I seemed to know. But at least this was a good show.

Thankfully, Ted Lasso is back as of last night

God, how I love this show. And heaven knows my husband loves the show and loves Hannah Waddington even more. I told him it could be his hall pass because, you know, she'd want an old guy with a limp and who is poor.  He laughed and said, "Well, you just never know, now do ya?" 

Ted Lasso makes me happy; it's good for what ails me, I suppose.

Do you watch it?  I wish Ted Lasso were president. Oh hell, I wish anyone would be president with a brain and who doesn't shit his pants or lies.  I'll stop there; that could be a whole paragraph.

So do you watch Ted Lasso if you have Apple TV, and if not, why not?  

I genuinely am interested. 

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