"Hey, dude, so you're having trouble learning to speak our language. Sorry, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Someone has told you that learning to speak American is as easy as duck soup but they're feeding you a bunch of baloney. You may have bitten off more than you can chew."
Got the idea?
Our language makes no sense, something obvious from reading Richard Lederer's book, “Crazy English: The Ultimate Joy Ride Trough Our Language.”
We are now in something called daylight saving time. How much time have we saved by this gimmick? Not a second. We would have just as much daylight available without it.
Every one of you has a hot water heater. Think about that for a second. Doesn't that essential appliance heat cold water? After it's heated, it's hot. Got it?
Then we have extraordinary, a term we all often use.
When we talk about extra-fine linen, aren't we referring to linen that is even finer than fine? And some of us have to wear extra-large clothing, meaning that it is larger than "large." Soooooo, when we say extraordinary, are we not saying that the thing or event is even more ordinary than "ordinary?"
Instead, we mean that it's anything but ordinary.
Oh.
How many of us put on our shoes and socks every morning?
Probably all of us.
But, don't we really put on our socks first? At least I do.
With spring just around the corner, baseball emerges from its long winter's nap to frolic on the sun-kissed diamonds in Florida and Arizona. Fans flock to spring training sites to watch the pros and wannabe stars prepare for the long season ahead.
Many fans are students of the game, watching intently as players warm up before the game, take infield and outfield while the minor league prospect, with a rocket arm, warms up in the bullpen.
Once the game begins, affecionadoes of the game monitor the pitch count, assess defensive moves, and match wits with both managers.
Man on first. Right-handed batter. And one fan asks another, "Reckon they'll call a hit and run play?
Probably not.
What they will call is a play where the runner runs before the batter hits which is a run and hit play. Baseball is highly traditional so no change is expected.
Another nutty part of our language are oxymora, not to be confused with oxyclean.
Oxymora are figures of speech which contain two contradictory terms used together.
My favorite is free gift. Free scholarship.
Nutty.
If it is a "gift," it IS free.
Something given to us "free, IS a gift.
And if there are "free" gifts it follows that there must be "gifts" which are not free. And if that's the case, then it's not a gift.
Then there's Jumbo shrimp and fresh frozen shrimp, voice mail and loose tights.
By now our foreign student of "American" is thoroughly confused and his or her attempt at learning our language is rapidly going to the dogs. Learning American is a bear of a task that's gonna get someone's goat eventually.
A person taking on the task of learning "American" means they're a glutton for punishment, but rather than crying over spilt milk they decide to take all those grammar rules with a grain of salt.
A friend of our language student tries to be helpful. "Dear, my past experience tells me that you'll gradually get the hang of it. At this point in time I know you are frustrated but it will get easier.
Certainly, the friend's past experience is bound to be better than their "current" experience or "future" experience.
And what's wrong with saying "now," or "at this point," or "at this time?"
The trick of speaking American is anything but an open secret.




