Say What?

I work with a woman who recently moved to Massachusetts from Toronto and there have been a few times that she’s had trouble understanding some people due to their thick Boston accents. I can sympathize with her, because I’ve had a hard time understanding people with strong Southern accents in the past. As a matter of fact, even though I grew up here I have a hard time understanding some people sometimes (hello Boston Mayor Tom Menino).

When my wife and I moved to California back in the 90’s, we found out pretty quick that people there love accents from all over – except Boston. We took our share of being made fun of because of how we spoke, so we decided to make a conscious decision to ditch the accent. We started saying our R’s at the end of words and dropped “wicked” as an adjective for something good. We didn’t start speaking like Valley Girls and Guys (“for sure”, “totally”), but people couldn’t tell we were from the Boston area either. Some people thought I was from Canada. It must have been the French sounding last name.

A few months ago, I found out that there are Boston slang web sites that help others know what the heck we’re talking about here. These are some of my favorites:

Alls - a common substitute for “all that”. I’ve been hearing and saying this phrase for years. When I was a kid, alls I knew was that I better be home on time. Oh, and I better not tell Mom.

Bang a U-ie – means to make a U turn to go back the other way. With all the one way streets around here, it can be a lot quicker to bang a U-ie than to go through five or six sets of lights and bang a couple of rights, only to find out there’s no left turn allowed at that intersection.

Chowderhead – or as most people around here would say it, “chowdahead”. It means a stupid person, as in, “You turned down free Sox tickets? What a chowdahead!” I’m not sure how common this is, but it is kind of funny to think about calling someone that.

Cruiser – another name for a police car. When we were riding around town on Friday nights, we always had to keep an eye out for “crewzahs” because according to the cops, a car full of kids was probably doing something wrong.

Hi hosey – a term used to signify that you were claiming something was yours. Say we were sitting around watching TV and you had a prime seat. Sooner or later you were going to have to get up for something, such as going to the bathroom or refilling your drink. Once your butt was off that seat, it was fair game to everybody in the room. That is, unless you hi hosey’d the seat before you got up, because then no one could take it. Hey, I didn’t make the rules, I just tried to follow them.

Like a bastard (“bastid”) – means an excess of something. Say it’s snowing really hard outside (around here that would be a “blizzid”). You may look out the window and say something like, “It’s snowing like a bastid outside!” Or maybe when you were a teenager at a party a crewzah showed up unexpectedly out of nowhere. What do you do in that situation? You run like a bastid.

No suh – means “no way”. Your friend comes up to you and tells you that the girl you like is now going out with some chowdahead. In disbelief you say, “No suh”. He shakes his head up and down emphatically and says, “Ya huh!” That means “Yes, this is absolutely true.” No suh and Ya huh usually go together.

Pissa – means something cool or good. Riding with my brother in his Olds 442 with Deep Purple’s Machine Head (on 8-track!) cranking out of the stereo was pissa! Riding in my parents’ car was not.

So don’t I – though not grammatically correct, a term of agreement.

Me: I need to get a job.

My friend: So don’t I.

Me: Then I need to get a car.

My friend: So don’t I.

Me: Then I need a girlfriend.

My friend: Yaw a lewza!

Statie – A Massachusetts State Trooper. You could joke around a little with the local police, but you don’t mess with a Statie. If a Statie pulls you over for something, you’re probably going to get a ticket - no matta how hahd you try.

Tonic – soda. Not a lot of people say this anymore, but the older folks still do. We all laugh a little when my Mom asks if we want some tonic. It’s nice and cold, it’s in the refrigaratah.

Wicked – means very. We always thought that school was wicked boring. Around here, we don’t worry that something “wicked good” seems to be a contradiction in terms. Also, if something “pissa” is cool or good, then “wicked pissa” is incredible. For example, Bobby Orr’s goal that won the Stanley Cup for the Boston Bruins on May 10, 1970 was not just pissa, it was wicked pissa. That we all still remember exactly where we were when it happened 40+ years later proves the point.

You’s guys – means all of you. “You’s guys want to watch the game?” Even teachers used to say it at times. “You’s guys look like yaw up ta no good.”

One other saying that we heard a lot at my house was “Hold ya hossis!” That was my Mom’s way of telling us to wait a minute (hold your horses, wherever that came from). When we came to the dinner table like a pack of ravenous wolves and were starting to grab stuff, we just had to hold our hossis.  Eventually we’d get our food. Seems we were always being told to “hold ya hossis!” I guess we were always in a rush for something.

I should probably forward a link or two to my coworker so she can start to understand the local accent.  They may be able to help her with most people. Others, you just nod and pretend you know what they’re talking about (Tom Menino).

A Parable

Once upon a time there was a nice man who started a blog and liked to write posts that revolved around his family growing up and his own wife and kids. These posts made him happy because it reminded him of all the wacky, weird, funny and nice things that happened to him when he was a kid, and they helped him to see how blessed he was to have such an awesome family now. Although this man didn’t have much in the way of material possessions growing up, he had something that many kids didn’t. He knew he was loved by parents who did their best to teach him what was important in life, and by his brothers and sisters, even if they occasionally got into arguments or fights.

The man did his best to put aside some time each week to write his post, to edit it, and to make it just right in the hope that someone would read it and smile, maybe even laugh, or say “Hey, I remember that!” Hopefully there would be only good memories, because in his mind the good had far outweighed the bad. Not that everything was perfect growing up, far from it, but isn’t it easier to recall the good and the positive than it is to scrounge around the depths of your brain and relive the bad and the negative? Posting to his blog pleased the man, for he loved to write and to share with others the things he had done and been through as the eighth of nine kids. He wanted others to know that family was and always would be one of the most important things in his life.

Then something terrible happened to him. It was a project at work, or more importantly, a project deadline. His usual writing time was taken over by work related activities because this project “just had to be out the door” by a certain date. He was okay with this for a short time, but then the deadline got moved out by a couple of weeks. Being the hard worker his parents had taught him to be, he kept up the crazy schedule in order to make the new deadline. Much to his despair, the deadline was moved out a couple more weeks with the expectation that it would take the same effort to meet the newest deadline. Weekends became more time to work instead of spending time with his family.

Not wanting to leave gaps in his blog, the nice man hastily threw together a few posts and put them up for everyone to see, knowing in his heart they weren’t his best. “I guess it’s better to have a mediocre post than no post at all.” he thought. This comforted him and helped him to make it through the long days spent at his work laptop, doing what he had to in order to keep a steady paycheck. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he could somehow make some time to work on his blog. There just had to be a way.

However, when he sat down to write something for his blog, there was nothing but an empty screen staring back at him. It seemed that his blog posting days were over, gone like the long summer days that he missed out on because he was working to meet a project deadline. This made the man sad, for it took away the pleasure of writing and the happiness of recalling fun times with friends and family. “It’s over.” he thought. “I’ve lost my creative drive. I’ve got nothing to write about.”

The moral of this story: All work and no play makes “8 of Nine” a dull blog.

In the Blink of an Eye

It’s hard to believe that Labor Day has come and gone once again. Summer is over, at least unofficially. It seems that this year was really dragging, feeling like it was almost standing still, and then suddenly it whipped forward in a blur of activity. The months of January through June were so slow it felt like there were 40 days in each month. May and June were especially slow. They were like those cartoon dreams where you’re trying to run away from something and you realize you have cement blocks on your feet and you’re running in molasses. It seemed like the 4^th of July, and my vacation time, were somehow not getting any closer.

Finally, June turned to July. I took my usual vacation during the week of July 4^th and felt like summer was mercifully here. I relaxed, went down to the Vineyard and enjoyed some time with my wife. Then I made a huge mistake. I blinked and it was the end of August. That’s all it took, a quick blink of the eyes and 8 weeks were gone. Scientists say that time is constant, that there’s 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day, and 7 days in a week. I either just proved them wrong or I’m living in some kind of time warp, because 8 weeks just went by in the blink of an eye.

I know that I didn’t pull a Rip Van Winkle and snooze through the whole summer because I remember things happening and being part of them. My wife and I did go down to the Vineyard while the kids were away in San Antonio at a conference, and we had a very relaxing time with my in-laws, my wife’s sister and her husband and their two awesome kids. We also went up to Vermont for a weekend in late July to attend a family reunion for my wife’s family. We hung out and talked with people we hadn’t seen in four years, we went tubing down the Battenkill River, and we ate a lot of good food. My brother who lives in Canada came down for a week or so and we got to see him and his wife at a cookout with my family. We went to a couple of parties down the Cape with friends and there were so many people in their back yard there was almost no room for my chair. We had some friends visit from Texas and spent a great afternoon reminiscing with them. We spent time with some of our good friends and counted our blessings that we have such awesome kids. My wife and I celebrated our 23^rd Anniversary in August. Looking back now, I guess we really did enjoy the summer.

So summer is almost gone and fall is just around the corner, like it or not. As I mentioned last year, I’m going to enjoy any summer-like days that happen to come along over the fall. There are still a lot of nice days to enjoy and it’s not like it will suddenly be freezing outside. Who knows, maybe we’ll have another mild winter like we did last year and we’ll be outside all the way to spring. Let’s just hope the next few months don’t go by as quickly as the last two. I’m still recovering from the whiplash.