About that accent

In Canada, I occasionally ran into Americans who were fascinated by the local accent; at one point, I had some kids tell me "say aboot! Say aboot!" I knew from U.S. TV that Canadians were supposed to say "aboot", and so I obliged the kids, but I really thought that to be some cliche that didn't really exist -- except maybe in some corner of Newfoundland I hadn't heard of.

Soon after I moved down here, I had a neighbour ask what I was up to with the boys, and I said that we were "out and about", and he immediate exclaimed: "You're Canadian!" I guess this confirmed the existence of the "-oot", but I still didn't really know what distinguished "about" above the border. Maybe a lack of drawl?

Then, one day, after about 2 years of living down here, I was listening to CBC radio, and for the first time, I could hear the Canadian accent. It was an odd feeling, to hear your own pronunciation as strange, and I was left wondering if my ears were turning American (they're not -- U.S. pronunciations are still pretty clear to me).

For Canadian readers (hi Mom!) who are curious what this whole "aboot" thing is, um, about, with my newly minted U.S.-audio-sensibilities, I can now report first hand on the "-oot".

Canadian "about" is not "aboot" (that would be just silly) -- but it is something along those lines, more like "abau-oot", with the partial oo occurring just in the final moments before the t. Hope that cleared that up.

I hope to report on other quirks of Canadian pronunciation as I encounter them for the first time.

One in a million

You know, you generally live your life secure in the knowledge that you are a unique, singular individual; like a fingerprint or snowflake, you are Special. Others are Typical, people who fall into big social categories like cliques in a John Hughes highschool, and who follow, glassy-eyed and slack-jawed, various social trends and advertising appeals.

But you! You're aware of all this, much too post-class, post-race, post-fashion, clever and Special to be lumped in with the Crowd. And so, secure in your Special Position, you settle down on a Sunday morning to sip your cappuccino and enjoy the Sunday Times (man, I love the Sunday Times), and are confronted by the following advertising insert:

Oh my.

I'm so depressed, I'm going to have to get in my Honda Civic and head to the local mall to do some consolation shopping. And hey! Maybe the Apple Store has a sale on!