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Each week our Boomer-In-Charge, Hershel Chicowitz, has something to say about life, society, or what's going on... from the perspective of a baby boomer. This is what's on his mind the week of June 21:
OK, before you have to count it out on your fingers, I'll tell you: I'm referring to the letter "W." But I'm going to get there via the 18th: "R."
When I was in third grade, the school authorities decided that I needed speech lessons. Apparently I could not talk right. So, once a week I was excused from class to go to a special room... and learn how to talk. My alleged speech impediment was the letter "R." For 30 minutes, I sat in front of a mirror with the speech teacher watching, saying "er...er...er." Miss Palate also gave me homework. I was supposed to lie in bed, on my back, with my head hanging upside down over the end of the bed, facing a mirror, and say, "er...er...er."
I swear to you, I am not making this up; not one word of it! Never mind that absolutely nobody had ever said they could not understand me, or that my "R"s did not sound right. But I guess the speech teacher had to have something to do, and because my father was a southerner, I was a likely target.
At the beginning of my senior year in elementary school (that would be 6th grade), I began to show my independence; I objected to another year of "er...er...er" in front of a mirror. And in a rare exception to the rule, my parents sided with me and not the school. So I was exempted from speech class, with prejudice, presumably to eventually take up some profession in which I would not have to talk to anybody... perhaps, as a computer programmer.
Never mind that that same year, I ran for class president and delivered a speech to all 300 of my classmates. (OK, so I lost; but nobody told me they did not understand what I said; that was not the problem. My worthy opponent, Alex Zimmer - he was the problem.) Never mind that I was involved in theatre productions throughout high school, that I was a P.A. announcer in high school, that I worked "on the air" in radio and television throughout college. Never mind that I taught in front of thousands of college students and professionals all over the country for more years than I wish to admit, and that in all that time, nobody ever said they could not understand what I was saying - not once!
Miss Palate... in your ear!
What all that horse-pucky in elementary school did do was make me acutely aware of how other people talk. My personal pet peeve: the letter "W." In college, my on-air rival, Steve Kaplan, pronounced the name of the radio station, WAMU, as "dubba-ya-AMU." All right, so it was only college radio; but does that mean we throw all semblance of professionalism out the window? Well, at dubba-ya-AMU, apparently so.
Today, on real, professional radio, talk show host Dr. Laura promotes a local radio program: "Mark Larson: he's just like us... only louder; weekdays at 9, on WFLA." Only she pronounces it "dubba-U-FLA."
This is another pledge week at my local PBS television station, WEDU. They sent me a letter asking me to renew my membership. I could pay $120 a year to watch WEDU; or I could pay nothing and watch WEDU. I sent them a letter back saying I would pay them a dollar for every time one of their pledge break announcers pronounced the name of the station correctly. And I would subtract one dollar for each time they got it wrong. As of noon today, they owed me $687.
Now, I know we have kids carrying knives and guns to school; we have elevated "social promotion" to an academic right; and we graduate kids when they cannot even balance a checkbook. The letter "W" is hardly an earthshaking problem. Believe me, I understand that. But before we even attempt to teach kids Ebonics or Spanish or any other language skills, shouldn't we at least teach them how to pronounce the 26 letters of the alphabet... the English alphabet? And if professional announcers cannot even get it right, how can we expect our kids to?
I bring this matter to your attention at this time for a very specific and important reason. Last week, the governor of Texas, George Bush, began his quest for the White House. His father, the former president, is George Herbert Walker Bush. The governor and leading presidential candidate, is George Walker Bush (no Herbert). To distinguish the two, the press has begun referring to the younger Bush as "W" - that's right: "W." And before we lower our standards any further, I'd at least like us to get his middle initial right. It's "W" - as in double-U; not dubba-U, not dubba-ya, not wubbu-wa. It's double-U!! Say it!
Everybody, lie down in bed, on your back, with your head hanging upside down over the end of the bed, facing a mirror, and say it till you get it right: double-U.
It's been bad enough to endure eight years of Bubba in the White House; I cannot bear the thought of eight more with dubba-ya in the White House. Spare me; please! Unless we can get this right, I may have to throw my support to Al Gore!
If you want to write more, we're open to offerings from other boomers. If you have something to say of interest to boomers, write it as well as you can in 700-900 words, and send it to us. We can't guarantee we'll publish it, but we'll surely consider it.
For more of Hershel's essays, check the BBHQ Archives or the Boomer Essays.
Hershel will have something else to say on June 28; mark your calendar to come back to BBHQ every Monday.
| The BBHQ Album of the Month is "Old Friends Live on Stage (Deluxe Edition) (2 CD/1 DVD)," by Simon & Garfunkel. If you were fortunate enough to see them in concert last year, I do not have to sell you. The concert was terrific! This album collection includes 55 songs, plus their new recording, "Citizen of the Planet," and one of the songs sung by the Everly Brothers during the concert. The DVD was recorded during their concert in Madison Square Garden in 2003. For any S&G fan, this is a must have! But then, you knew that already, didn't you? |
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The BBHQ Book of the Month is
"Vinyl Highway," by
Dee Dee Phelps. You remember her as Dee Dee, of Dick and Dee Dee.
Together, they took a decade long ride on the rock and roll roller
coaster. It was a heck of a ride! Dick Clark, Quincy Jones, the Beach
Boys, Glenn Campbell, Dionne Warwick, Bobby Vinton... Dick and Dee Dee
rubbed shoulders with all of them. This is her "behind the scenes" story.
It's pretty cool.
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