David, you’ve piqued a dormant interest: How is one to pronounce Audi in
American (ie, in Oregonian)? Is it OWdi, as in “poor baby has an owie” ? Or
AWdi, as in audible?
I await your studied reply.
ck, feeling fine, thanks, after those stretches
On Aug 23, 2020, at 11:33 AM, david ritchie <profdritchie@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:
I have been remiss. In the past I have launched into my account without
giving sufficient consideration to your feelings and general state of health.
This could be triggering. What I’d suggest therefore is that you try a few
stretching exercises before you read further, take some time to fortify your
psyche or to make it flexible, depending on what has worked for you in the
past.
And breathe.
These are stressful times and we want no one to be damaged in any way if this
can be avoided. Obviously it’s not a perfect world, but we do are best.
And please do me a favor: copy this introduction and paste it in each week,
ahead of your reading. Thank you.
One final introductory thought: if you have Italian blood, you might want to
let go of all sharp objects right about now.
There was some awkwardness this week when friends brought over Chinese food
to eat in the garden; none of us eat fortune cookies so the chickens got them
the following morning. Percorino was quite content with, “Generosity and
perfection are your everlasting goals.” Appenzeller was a little puzzled by,
“You are going on well with your business.”
“I don’t have a business.”
Pecorino, “Didn’t Mimo once say that you should mind your own business?”
Appenzeller, “More than once.”
Pecorino, “You can’t mind anything you don’t have, so the only logical
conclusion is that your business must be around here somewhere, even though
it’s scarcely perceptible by we lesser beings.”
Appenzeller nodded, “Very hard to perceive indeed. But it’s nice to know my
business is doing well.”
Pecorino, “Actually what was said was that you are going *on* well *with* it.
Have you been going on with anything at all?”
Mimo had been off in her own world, puzzling over the fortune I’d read her,
“You are heading for a land of sunshine.” She returned to earth.
Mimo, “Apparently I’m going on a journey.”
I pointed out that sunshine was currently right here right now. Mimo was not
convinced, “How can I head *for* a land I already inhabit?”
“Perhaps,” I suggested, “it’s like heading toward your destiny. You don’t
necessarily have to go anywhere to head towards a destiny.”
Percorino, “I’m not sure I have a destiny. What color would it be?”
Mimo, “Death colored.”
Appenzeller, “That’s not a nice thing to say.”
Mimo, “Well she gets on my chesty bits.”
Pecorino, “Do not.”
“Do.”
“Do not.”
They looked toward me for arbitration. I said, “It’s obviously a bad day for
prepositions…Maybe we should try ‘off’ for a while?”
They put it to a vote and the motion passed unanimously.
I bought an Audi. I know, you’re shocked. I anticipated problems with
people who see me as a SAAB guy, and a guy who drives beaters, and a guy
whose cars are so last century. I planned for all that. But not the awe
problem.
The simple fact is that I can pronounce neither “awe” nor “water” in my
adopted land.
“Waiter, could I have some water please?”
“Come again.”
“Wawter.”
“Excuse me.”
Gestures towards the glass, “Wahddrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”
It’s the same with “awe,” but more complex yet because I share with my
Italian friend an unfortunate refusal to describe the merely quite nice as
“awesome.” Reserved people like he and I (and yes, I did just call an
Italian person “reserved”; there’s worse to come) foolishly keep that word in
reserve for a moment when we are standing atop a mountain and massive storm
clouds roll towards us.
I consulted the chickens and found there are two ways to master the tough
task of learning how to pronounce my car. First option: we should
acknowledge the technical difficulty. The letter “A” is a poor starting
point for something that is going to begin as the word orange begins.
Therefore imagine if you will taking the word “ouch” and removing the u and
the ch (possibly in deference to the Swiss). And then you simply add the
handy two d’s I now put at your disposal—odd—and an e. Odd-e. This is the
American way. As in Odde (Audie) Murphy, hero of the world war which
happened, our president will tell you, after the beautiful bigly one.
Learning European pronunciation could involve meeting Europeanistas, Germans
in particular, who can be inconvenient. They talk of “sturm und drang” and
Berliners, but once you get beyond all that you see they have an ability to
make cars somewhat less thuggish than an Cadillac Escalade. The Escalade
escalates, but in my humble estimation it neither climbs nor soars.
I asked this week if the chickens, now that the presidential election is fast
approaching, felt the urge to vote.
Appenzeller, “We do vote.”
Pecorino, “I am unanimous on that.”
Mimo, “Could we not get a mail ballot and scratch out choices?”
I explained that among the few requirements voters in America must have is
the ability to hold a pen.
Mimo was shocked, “You mean none of the other birds vote?”
I shook my head.
That knocked the wind out of her sails. You’ll recall she is a former
Presidential candidate, “They were my cunning plan.”
“Good thing you dropped out early.”
Mimo, “And no one has asked me to speak at a convention."
Hovering like an awesome cloud, there were suddenly hints in the air of the
kind of violence for which Portland is currently getting attention. I
hurried to explain that fettuchini with pesto sauce would be available soon
and hey presto the moment passed.
The web is not good on how “hey presto” came to be used by English magicians.
Possibly someone thought it magical when Italians made their entrances on
time?
David Ritchie,
Portland, Oregon
