Language

Today I was thinking about some of my misadventures in trying to communicate with others. Now I am not meaning when I recite "Jabberwoky" which starts out with "Twas brillig", which of course means mid afternoon, {the time of broiling dinner in Australia} "and the slithy Toves {which everyone knows means the slim lithe Toves} were gyering and gimbiling in the wabe, {the little rascals were rolling and tumbling down the grassy hillside}. I will not run on with this, as I am sure you all understand.

You see, I grew up in Montana, and after College I followed my brothers into the Navy {there was a war on}, I was was sent to Notre Dame for my "Ninety Day Wonder Course" which only lasted 60 day's {as you can see we were smart for our age}. There I was exposed to the strange languages of New England and Georgia which being adept at juggling I soon understood. Then off to the West Coast where they speak American.

Then off to the Pacific, Hawaii where everybody speaks "Aloha" And on to Japan. Where the word for "Hello" is "Ohio" to which my roommate Hickman would respond "No Minnesota" which is where he was from. Now Japanese is nothing like American, so we both did the best we could with a mix of Japanese and American.


Then off to New England where I soon learned the East Boston accent from a neighbor, Terry, and the Brahman from the Back Bay. Burlesqueze at the Old Howard Atheneum,{where I also honed my drawing skills}. Actually New Englandese is much like American, except for the Accent.

While there, work took me to many strange lands, not all of them in the USA. The first venture was to Kuwait, when I flew across thee Atlantic in an upper berth in the DC6. And where I was stunned to see so many Nuns walking barefoot alongside the road. Later I learned this was the women's dress, and was not a Habit.

This was my first exposure to English. The language of the British Iles. I was invited to go to a "Tumbollo" Game one evening. It turned out to be Bingo, But with the Limey accent I soon realized it was " Tumbollo". I didn't understand a word.

On the way back home I landed in Paris for an overnight stay. Where I found out the Gendarmes would only speak French. If you wanted to get directions you had to ask a woman. There I met Hans, who was from Michigan, But was originally from Austria. He escaped from the Russian domination to free Europe, and to France, before being hired by a US Oil company. We Hans, and an American who worked for Westinghouse, who was looking for a mounted butterfly shop, and I went out to find the butterflies. It was a fun experience since Hans was very witty and joked with the women sidewalk push cart vendors.

We gave up on the trying to find a butterfly on the streets of Paris, and went sightseeing to the Eiffel Tower. As we were going up in the elevator everybody was pointing out churches and buildings, and feeling left out I pointed to the Sacre Curre and asked Hans if that was the Vatican. He replied yes, that was the Vatican and pointing to the river Seine he said that was the Tiber. He was naming all sorts of places in Rome. It became very quite in the elevator as Hans explained that the Tower was built with the Marshall Plan Money, but the French were not very good builders, which is why it looks so old.

On the way down, we were quiet, standing jammed in the crowd, just in front of us were two couples, one American and the other English, the men discussing where was a good place to eat. The American was naming various restaurants as being excellent. The Englishman's natural pride overcame him and he proclaimed the best restaurant in the world was in the Savoy Hotel in London. This was a proclamation, and there was an awkward silence. Hans broke the silence be saying "In America we have 50 restaurants as good as the Savoy." The Englishman drew himself up to his full 6'3" and looking down at 5'7" Hans stated, "I HAVE BEEN TO AMERICA, WHERE?"
"Howard Johnson's", Hans replied. Luckily we had reached the landing and we got out of the elevator as fast as we could.

That night we went to the Lido where the ski expedition Hans was on had reservations.
I flew back to Boston the next day.

This is enough for now as my fingers are tired from typing, and your eyes must be tired from reading. However this is only the start of my misadventures.