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A TREATISE ON WHILES AND WHENS
This essay has to do with while I am here and secondly, when I am gone. An Australian composer of great note recently produced a memorable work which he called, “While I Am Here.” His name is John Munro. He is originally from Scotland and has long since assumed Australian citizenship. After listening to John…
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IRISH EARWORMS
This essay is a love story in the Irish tradition. It has nothing to do with horny politicians trying to seduce an intern nor does it have to do with an amorous preacher trying to embed a soprano from the church choir. It has to do with the Irish use of the English language, the…
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BANISHED THOUGHTS
Because of its sacredness, this is an essay that should be read in silence, preferably in a monastic setting. On the other hand, if you prefer to read it aloud in the midst of a bawdy house, there is nothing that can be done to stop that. The author would like to have the address…
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BITS AND PIECES – PART 3: TONY BLAH – ED CAH – AND WAH: AN ENGLISH LANGUAGE REDUX
Being born in the American Mid-west, my native tongue is English spoken in broad, flat tones without regional accents. My English is not of the hard Boston variety, nor does it reflect the softer tones of Southern speech. Thus, the title of this essay in Mid-western speech would read, Tony Blair, Ed Carr and War,…
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ON MORTALITY
Two events in the last week led me to think a little about mortality. The first event has to do with old Shannon, our great cat. Shannon wandered out late in the night last week and another cat or raccoon beat up on him. As my parents would say in their Elizabethan English, currently he…
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THE THREE I LEAGUE
When we were young, many of my compatriots had their sights set on a professional baseball career. Unrealistically, as it turned out. But we didn’t know that then. In the Midwest, one of the leagues to which we aspired had clubs in Illinois, Indiana and Iowa. And so it became the Three I League. It…
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“IT DON’T MEAN I DON’T”
It has been 71 years and three months since I last saw Miss Maxwell, my eighth grade teacher. That period has passed with little lament from your old essayist. For most of the boys in Miss Maxwell’s eighth grade class, I think it would be fair to say that if the lamentable and regrettable period…
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FOUL TIPS
In a recent essay entitled “Passed Balls and Wild Pitches,” I recorded three incidents that were really gaffs that have marked my life in recent years. In this essay I will continue the baseball metaphors by using the title of “Foul Tips.” Passed balls and wild pitches ordinarily have an impact on the outcome of…
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THE LANGUAGE OF THE ANGLO-SAXONS
My eighth-grade teacher was a plump woman who would have been greatly pleased if someone had mistakenly identified her as an English poet. She wore shoes that went out of style after the First World War and she loved to read from her book of poems by English poets. Beyond that, Miss Maxwell loved the…
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PRESENTLY AND/OR THIS-A-WAY
This essay on the English language was inspired by a preposterous source. The someone who inspired this essay departed this vale of tears more than 51 years ago and was generally known as my father. He was a laconic man who used country speak to convey his thoughts to the outside world. Country speak is…