What's your Favorite Mondegreen?
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Christmas in July sale)
I’ve been listening to a lot of audio books lately and it
drives me a little bat nuts when I hear a mispronounced word. (Note to narrator
of my current listen: The word ‘chassis’ is pronounced CHASS-see and not
CHASS-sis, and the term is duded up not dudded up.) I have a tendency to
yell at my tablet. I also have a tendency to yell at music I’m listening to
when the singer mumbles and I can’t quite figure the words. “Enunciate and spit
it out, you dolt.” That’s when my brain, of its own accord, reaches for a
mondegreen.
What’s that, you say? You all know them and may even have a
favorite. A mondegreen is an error resulting from a listener mishearing something
in a song, poem, or phrase. Since the listener can’t determine the correct
words, the brain substitutes something else that sorta makes sense, but leads
to a lot of head scratching.
The word mondegreen first appeared in 1954 in an article in
Harper’s Magazine. It was invented by American author and editor Sylvia Wright.
As a child, she heard the Scottish ballad The Bonnie Earl O' Moray: It
had the line, “They have slain the Earl O’Moray and Lady Mondegreen.” It always
made her feel sad and puzzled since Lady Mondegreen was never mentioned again. Who
was this mysterious woman? The earl’s lover? An innocent bystander? Why was she
murdered? It wasn’t until years later when, as an adult, she saw the poem in
print and discovered to her surprise the line was actually, “They have slain
the Earl O’Moray and laid him on the green.” Ms. Wright coined the term
mondegreen and stated they were often better than the original. I tend to agree.
The first mondegreen many children hear is probably from the
Pledge of Allegiance as generations have pondered the vow to Richard Stands.
The mondegreens I recall fondly are generally associated with music. One of my
favorites is Killing Me Softly With his Song, sung by Roberta Flack. She obviously dug the guy in the song, but I never could figure out why
since he kept “strumming her face with his fingers.” How annoying to have
someone constantly poking you in the eye. I’d have smacked him. Oh, he’s “strumming
her pain”, you say. Well, that makes a bit more sense. I probably wouldn’t have
hit him for that.
One song that drove me nuts for years was I’d Really Love
to See you Tonight by England Dan and John Ford Coley where the young man,
desperate for a date, is whining that “He’s not talking about the linen.” What
linen? Did he leave a mess in her bathroom? Steal her good sheets? That would
certainly have put him on my ex-boyfriend list. Maybe if he bought her a set of
nice percales or Egyptian cotton towels, she’d let him back in…oh, he’s not talking
about the linen, but “moving in.” Okay, I can see that, but frankly, the linen
has a more interesting backstory.
What is it with Elton John? He speaks like a regular Brit,
but when he opens his mouth to sing, all this weird stuff falls out. His Rocket
Man has the neighbors up in arms because he’s “burning up the trees off
every lawn.” The HOA will hear about this. No wait, he’s actually, “burning out
his fuse up here alone.” Then there’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Even if
you hear the right words, they don’t make sense. “There’s a dark cloud inside
of the house.” (“The dogs of society howl.”)
“You can’t land me in the henhouse.” (“You can’t plant me in the
penthouse.”) I guess he needs to go there because of the dark clouds in the
house, but I wonder if the chickens will ever accept him as an equal. Finally,
he just gives up and goes back to Howard and Al in the woods. That’s nice. His
two best friends have missed him, until you realize it’s actually “back to the
howling owl in the woods.” Okay, but, frankly, I think the owl is of the same
mind as the chickens and couldn’t care less. He should look up Howard and Al
and join them at the pub for a pint. He’d feel better after a nice chat.
Do you have a favorite mondegreen? Or are the ants your
friends, blowing in the wind. (“The answer, my friend, is blowing in the
wind.”)
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This isn’t a typical yuletide tale.
Murder, mystical artifacts, an invisible demon with anger
management issues, and an overbearing cupid—not what Rosalie Thatcher wished
for on her Christmas list
The
holidays had always been a magical time for Rosalie, but not this year. Her new
manager at Penrose’s Department Store is determined to make this season the
most profitable in the store’s history, even if it sucks the life out of every
employee. Introducing arbitrary rules and stealing the affections of the cute
temp Santa were bad enough, but forcing Rosalie into the stupid elf hat was the
worst. The worst, that is, until she meets a real E.L.F. (Elemental Life Form)
named David and gets lassoed into a desperate hunt for the stolen Naughty and
Nice List. Now all Rosalie and David must do is dodge a murderous invisible
demon and recover the missing artifact before hellhounds track them down. The couple race against time for without the
magical guidance of the Naughty and Nice List, the world will tumble toward
eternal chaos.
EXCERPT
She pulled a battered cardboard box
from the closet and ran her hand lovingly over the dusty surface. Rosalie’s
Christmas Box—her mother’s handwriting clearly visible even after many years.
She set up the bedraggled artificial tree and wrapped around the lights. A
boxful of handmade ornaments, a few strands of garland and voilâ!
Rosalie stood back to admire the results. The top of the tree canted lazily to
one side, most of the glitter had fallen off the macaroni wreath, and the craft
stick reindeer lacked one googly eye. To her mind, the tree never looked
better.
Rosalie placed one final ornament near
the top, a bright pink snowflake always hung last. Her father bought the ugly
hunk of plastic before he passed away. She loved every garish bit. Austin
always ribbed her about the little tradition to jumpstart the holidays. Now he
was gone, too. Off to a new job with a new girlfriend in California.
“At least we have each other,
Snowflake.”
She slipped into pajamas and made a
PB&J. Snuggling under the comforter on the sofa, Rosalie watched TV while
she ate. The twinkly glow of the tree lights cast patchy shadows on the wall.
“Life isn’t so bad, Snowflake. The
holidays are almost here. Penrose’s always shines during the holidays. Plus,
I’ll get my employee bonus soon.”
The thought was enough to perk up
Rosalie. Maybe the extra money would keep her a few car payments ahead of the
game. She shivered as an errant chill sent a ripple of goosebumps up her arm.
Suddenly nervous, she glanced around. The lights didn’t seem so bright anymore,
intensifying the drab interior.
Except for one.
The little pink snowflake cast a blood
red reflection on the wall as if flashing a warning. She blinked. The image
vanished. Rosalie chuckled to herself. Oh brother, I’m really tired. She turned off the TV and staggered
into the bedroom. Five minutes after her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.
*
* * *
David stood on top of General Robert E.
Lee’s head and surveyed the surroundings. The lake at the foot of Stone
Mountain, Georgia, was far below surrounded by a mixture of wooded areas and
green open fields. As dusk settled, Atlanta’s lights twinkled in the distance.
Any other time he would linger over the breathtaking view, but he wasn’t there
to sightsee. He closed his eyes and let his senses
drift. For a few horrible moments the thread eluded his grasp. Did the
connection sever already?
Oh please, not yet.
With undisguised relief, he latched on
to the sharp unmistakable pull. The Book was south this time—definitely south.
At least, he headed in the right direction. He realized his hands shook and
grinned wryly.
You’re not dead yet. Keep ahead of the hellhounds and you’ll
be fine.
David’s sharp eyes pinpointed an open
spot down on the valley floor over eight hundred feet below. The light was
strong enough for him to get a good fix; no cars, no people, nothing to impede
a soft landing. He casually stepped off General Lee’s head, and dashed-away in
a puff of wind.
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2 comments:
A funny post, L.A. A friend & her husband often went "home" to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. One time, their boys wanted to know when they were going to see the rapids. Mixed up lyrics is always so much fun.
Cute post! Every time I hear the song by KC & the Sunshine Band song, "Keep it Comin' Love" I think of a friend's daughter who thought it said, "Keep it Common Law" lol
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