Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Punctualtion, punctuation, punctuation



And some hhhaspirations, too.

Last Sunday I took a turn at the lectern during the 11:00 church service, reading one of the passages of scripture in the lovely "Lessons and Carols" advent, pre-Christmas program. No communion this day, a slight shock to the system of this slowly acclimating Episcopalian.

The week prior, I recieved an email with the designated scripture, along with instructions and guidance on how to read in public. As a long-time public speaker, I read the email with interest. They're right -- most people do read/speak too quickly in public (excepting Mr. Bush, of course), and treat punctuation marks as if they were speed bumps in the cereal aisle.

What we each need is a pocket-sized Victor Borge, willing to vocalize the punctuation in our speech (zzzzzzip pop!).

What I had was simply my own print-out from Zechariah, arranged in stanzas like oddly metered poetry -- and the toughest rehearsal audience in town, my husband. Overlooking for a moment (not that one can) his gesticulations, the crisis came over a humble word. More to the point, the word humble. In normal verb and adjective use, I drop the "h." Richard doesn't.

"HHhumble," he kept interrupting, "you're going to confuse the Greeks who have wandered in. They're going to try and serve us 'ummus."

"Hhhumble and riding a donkey," I said to myself, stumbling over the unfamiliar aspirate like a speed bump in the liquor aisle. I was trying to reflect, express, or offer in a spirit of deference or submission, a change of pronounciation for My Beloved.

"Hhhumble and riding a donkey..."

But up behind the lectern, in the glare of lights and vivacity of getting to say "Lo!" I dropped my aitch. That evening, The Man fixed me ummus, surrounded by holives.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Word, bird


Word, bird.
That's the lede sentence from one newspaper's version of a Cox News Service story about great tits.

My favorite phrase from the news story is: "Great tits learn songs from each other..."
Something I've always suspected.

I don't think much about great tits, no doubt for the same reason Wilt Chamberlain really didn't think about being tall. But great tits are big on the brain for avian specialists and musicologists.

I give you:
http://www.stltoday.com/stltoday/news/stories.nsf/world/story/A7D2ED9BF6984E708625723D0015457F?OpenDocument