Photo from www.flickr.comOne of the things I will miss the most about my dad is the way he talked, not just the inflection in his voice but his turns of phrase, his pronunciation, the particular vernacular of his time and place. He also had a way of lifting his eyebrows and tilting his head up or down to challenge what you said or to drive home his point.
I'll miss the lilting language of that part of Appalachia, captured in old-time songs and still spoken in certain valleys and "hollers" in the region. They may be ridiculed for their speech, but it's colorful and evocative of the old ways they all respect and value. I can still hear it in the language of some of the people here in West Virginia, and it goes straight to my heart as something rare and true in a world full of pretensions and falsehoods.
Yep, Dad would sometimes take Lois and me to get his "minnies" before a fishing trip. He would tell us stories about how he and Dale played along the "crick" to catch "pollywogs" and "crawdads." And I recall his little lift of his eyebrows and knowing look when he told me I probably needed to give up the "baccy" one of these days before it damaged my lungs. I particularly loved the nicknames people were given in his times. "Old Fats" would, indeed, be fat. "Peck" came from the book and radio series, "Peck's Bad Boy." There was his friend "Ossie," and Mom was briefly called "Shake," short for Shafer. "Slim" was no doubt tall and skinny: They called it like it was.
Sometimes he used the word "ain't," and Momma would correct him, but I know it wasn't a sign of ignorance any more than when he'd say "them" rather than "they" or somebody "done it" rather than "did it." He just liked the way it sounded, the way it brought back the old days he treasured. And he never called Momma's walker a "walker." To him it was her "wagon," and why not? It was red and shiny, wasn't it? Mom's long, detailed phone conversations were her "recitations." Perfect.
Yes, I loved the way Dad expressed himself, except when he was yelling at me. Even then, he made his point. And, as we all know, he always had a point to make.
4 comments:
No doubt! Language is to be enjoyed I think, tossed around like a frisbee, not stacked in rows like bricks.
Oh, I should have mentioned "singin' for his supper"! You sure know how to toss language around like a frisbee. That bigringcircus is something else.
Yeah. I'm in favor of a second blog, Juanchito, that doesn't leave out those of us who don't know bike talk! :)
I hear myself at times imitating Dad's language, not hard to do since he was also an ENT. But you know, he never said "you'ns" and we'uns" for which I was grateful-- not that it's not a fine plural form right up there with "y'all." I loved clarifying for my
Venezuelans students who complained that English has no you-plural form...but warned them not to use either. ;) Oh, I LOVE language, and especially English, although obish is a pretty useful one, too, nobo, nobanoby?
In all my research online of the language of we "unglaciated Allegheny Plateau people," I never found reference to the very common use of, with no grammatical excuse, the past particle rather than the gerund in sentences such as, "My car needs fixed,"instead of My car needs fixing." It's definitely regional! :) And I stand by my right to use it and sound "funny." :)
Nothing like rereading one's entries months later to catch the typos like "past particle" rather than "participle." Hmmm. Now that word looks funny! ;)
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