A dutiful post

There are some words that I’ve never quite got to grips with, in an American accent. 'Dennist' is one of them. I need to have my teeth looked after by a fully T-ed dentist. I can’t be doing with dennal issues. Dennist sounds far too much like Dennis the Menace. Then there’s the word 'and'. I’m sorry, but I just can’t love it when it’s pronounced 'ee-und'. Sorry. I’m not too good with words that end –er either. I like those words properly clipped. Eith-a, for example. It’s just not nice when the ending is swallowed back into the mouth and chewed around with an rrrr sound. I couldn’t help flinching a little when I was at 9-yo’s school Winter Show, and 200 children enthusiastically launched into the opening numb-a, singing “In Decembrrrr, We remembrrrr…”.

There is one word which I really can’t cope with at all. It’s the word ‘duty’. That word just begs to be pronounced dyootee, as in “England expects that every man will do his dyootee.” How inspiring would that have been for the navvies if Nelson had announced “England expects that every man will do his doodie”? See my point? Doodie sounds like what you put your dog out in the back yard to perform. It’s just too close for comfort to doo-doos. I feel the meaning of the word does honestly require a little more gravitas in its pronunciation.

I had a long exposure to doodie when 5-yo was keen on the Barbie movie The Princess and the Pauper (por-pah, or pah-prrr – we’ve been through this one, I’m not doing it again for you). Both the princess and the pauper are very enmeshed in thoughts of their responsibilities and doodies. Given the choice, I have to say that I’d go for being a princess, living a life of luxury and inheriting the kingdom, even if it does mean an arranged marriage to the hunky prince Dominic who rules the neighbouring realm - frankly, what’s to complain of there? The pauper’s alternative is living in a lonely hovel, and slaving away night and day for an abusive employer, in order to pay off her parents’ debts. Hm. Tough choice.

I digress. Both girls sing of their devotion to doodie, and it made me laugh each time 5-yo watched the dvd. “It’s my doodie!” beautiful blond Princess Anneliese would chirrup prettily.

Well, now the word has come home to roost. 12-yo is playing the part of Frederick in his school’s production of The Pirates of Penzance. It’s going to be hard for me to keep a straight face when the pirate chorus opens with:

“We sail the ocean blue, and our saucy ship’s a boodie,
We are sober men and true, and attentive to our doodie”.

Then 12-yo has the line:

“It was my duty under my indentures, [Back to dentistry again, Ed.] and I am the slave of duty”.

Of course the audience will already adore his English accent, and if he says “dyootee” in his opening lines, he will just steal the show.

I'm not even going to get started on the whole byootee/booty issue. Barbie princesses, for example, love to assert that their booty is on the inside, which is anatomically very curious.

Oh, it’s so complicated being English.

Post-script 1: Oops. Seems Nelson didn’t say that line anyway. He signaled it from his ship with flags. They’re so clever in the navy. Thought of ways to get the word out fast, even in those pre-Twitter days.

Post-script 2: Oops. Seems “We sail the ocean blue” is HMS Pinafore, not Pirates of Penzance. Listen. I’m a blogger, not a G&S expert, not a naval battle historian. A blogger. Right? Give me a break.

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