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.
1 Comments:
it's only cuz you're from ouston, you know.
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