“…he had a accent.”

I have been fortunate to marry into a charming West Virginian family.  She Who Has No Clothes….except those in 6 closets in three states, was born on a horse farm in rural, southern WV.  Over these many years I have come to appreciate the accent from up on Red House hill and honestly it doesn’t register much anymore.  In the beginning I was totally lost…that from a guy who had real, off-the-boat Scottish grandparents.  I had a cousin in Dundee who spoke to me in a brogue that was almost impossible to decipher…even if I watched his lips.  But I digress but you get my point.

The accent down there is a deeper and more confusing than in  any southern state to which I have travelled.  Trust me, it is!  All that is to say this.

A few weeks back my Bro-in-law had a few surgeries and since he is the quintessential alpha male his posse was out in full force standing guard on him in the hospital.  When we arrived that Sunday afternoon we witnessed something unknown in the big city.  In a semi-private room with just Bro as the only inhabitant we found a room with six…count them six chairs along the wall, each occupied.  The empty bed became a sofa on which sat two more people, straddling the sides as to make sure they didn’t muss the bed. Translation: do not disturb the sheets.

Bro was holding court until bigger than life Billy showed up.  Instantly he took over the gathering.  Billy had been at a horse show, he raises, shows and sells Percheron horses. Lamenting all the while that a new guy was there showing off his horses and winning every class.  It was very frustrating to Billy because he usually wins everything.  He railed on a few minutes and then, responding to a question said,  “I don’t know who this guy was but I’m pretty sure he was from Kentucky.”  And why did he think that, I said to myself, not willing to wade into this monologue.  Nobody reacted…they all knew what he meant…except me.  But as all good story tellers are wont to do, he proceeded to repeat some of the story and the audience was all ears again.  “I am sure he is from Kentucky” Billy said, this time with more conviction.  “He had a accent!”

Now listen folks,  that quote is verbatim and grammatically incorrect as is most of the language on the Hill.  Not one quizzical look was given to his last comment unless you would have seen the sly look I gave to She Who.  The look I got back was to say…hold your tongue City Boy.

…I just think about this stuff

Throw…a most utilitarian word

If you want to have some fun observe how many times you hear the word THROW used in a sentence.  As the title might suggest it is a bit overworked.  Trying to learn Americanized English must be a horribly difficult thing to do.

The definition of the word is …to propel something with force by a movement of the arm and hand. Or to put in place quickly or erect or, project a voice or, put on or take off a garment hastily or, move a switch so as to operate a device or, obtain a specific number by rolling dice or, intentionally lose a race or contest or,  confuse or, lose a shoe or, send something or somebody to the floor.  Clear?

Based on those concise definitions you can:

Throw in, throw out, throw down and of course throw up.  You could throw a tantrum or throw a fit or throw a shoe or throw a bearing and if you really work at it you might throw your back out.

If you have a mind to you could celebrate by throwing a party or throw a shower.  Hell, you could throw a baby shower which, by it mere utterance’ could totally confuse a non-English speaking immigrant.

I love it when someone says let me throw some clothes on and run outside to throw a few steaks on the grill or,  if you are down under…throw some shrimp on the barbie.

Lets throw a nice little wedding and the bride will do all the expected things like throw the bouquet after we throw rice (please,don’t throw your arm out). Oh my, this all sounds expensive; looks like I am going to throw a lot of cash at this wedding.

Whew…I need a rest.  I should just gather some throw pillows on the sofa right there on that throw rug and hope all goes well so somebody doesn’t throw me under the bus.  If that happens I am going to throw some punches.  Relax…throw caution to the wind.  Remember not so long ago they were going to throw me out of school because the administration thought I was going to throw a ping pong tournament.

Now my head hurts from all this throwing stuff.  If I fall asleeep here on the couch, no worry, my wife will throw me into bed.

…I just think about this stuff!