June 23rd, 2011 A Mao-se day.
I heard it and so did d’woife, there on the tele, we were watching the news. Now normally I don’t watch the news because it occurs in my day after supper and short of being tranquilized the quickest way to a post supper stupor in dreamland for this fellow is to sit in front of “Here and Now” – apologies to all concerned, it’s not your fault, it’s my wiring.
So I settled in for a good nap, comfortable with Debbie’s beautiful face on our TV speaking to the great wash of humanity, and was getting dozy when I heard it! There was a fellow on top of Signal Hill saying to American Tourists “…and this is what we call a Mao-Tse day!” Perhaps it was more like “mousey”, but in that broad north west St. Johns accent typical of fellers who spent all their life between Kenmount Road and the University and speak as though all their words issue from the top of their palate. He looked like he should know better, but there you have it see! The divide! Just when you thought Nflders were being homogenized it smacks you right between the corpus amygdaloideum!
“Did he say that?”,( Me to # 1, she was more alert.)“He did say that!”(she to I). “Holy FogDevils Bat-person! Just what is a Mousey Day”. “I don’t know!” said she, and it dawned on us – He’s a Townie!
Of course – he’s trying to say “mawsy”, and not only did he get the pronunciation wrong the temperature on the hill was 5 above (C), which means he was wrong with the meaning as well!
And that’s what you’ve got. Not only do all the tourists go there – now that you can’t fly into the rest of the province, you’ve got Townies explaining away our culture in terms with which they aren’t even acquainted, bob, bob, bobbin’ their way across the time space with heads in the now, never a look to see where and what they came from, cashing in on tourism.
You could just hear more conversation before Debbie rejoined the newscast:
“Yep! Tis’ a Mao-Tse Day, Eh, OK old Kawkey, Where’er you from! Ho- ho-ho, well in Newfunlan we call that the Baw-stun states, and this is what we call a Corkum, which is a person who fills the seams in wooden boats, and that’s a hang-ishore – and look up – there’s a bow-sun bird, similar to the Steering, not like in a car or boat; speaking of boats there’s a ‘really’ long-liner and would you like to hear more quaint expressions?”
Yep… that’s what they’re doing…. she’s gone b’y. It’s over. Fold the cover on George Story and Bury me face down, I don’t come from here. What shame, what shame!