Because America’s de facto official language contains more than 250,000 words, mastering it as a second tongue must be exceptionally difficult. But perhaps the most challenging thing about becoming conversant in English after growing up speaking another language would be sorting out all the homophones, or words that are pronounced alike but have very different meanings.
Suppose some glutton exclaims, “I ate eight eggs!” or a friend gently advises you to not act so haughtily around your children by cautioning, “Don’t put on airs around your heirs.” Even relaxation would be frustrating. Imagine being asked if you’ve read the red book, or sitting in on a loud family poker game where someone impatiently yells, “We can’t hear over here,” and then shouts at his mother’s sister, “If you want to play, Auntie, ante up!”
It must be perplexing trying to figure out why a chaste girl is chased by so many suitors, or why some boats are crewed by such a crude bunch of louts. Of course, they’re coarse; who wouldn’t be? After months on the high seas, most sailors would seize any opportunity just to peer at a pier.
Learning English has to be an exercise in confusion. You’d have to learn by experience that looking at offal is awful, that a few brews won’t make a bruise feel any better, and that no amount of dollars and/or cents will buy any common sense.
A baker’s offspring are often bred to make bread, and they need to knead the dough if they want to see the ryes rise. Joseph Schlitz’s entire brood brewed for a living, but they were better off than the two nobles who couldn’t have children because the baron was barren.
Polite people close the door before changing their clothes, and smart ones know that sitting on a gaff is a major gaffe. Winter sports enthusiasts wishing to shoot down a chute need to have their sled’s runners greased. They also know seeing an ice floe flow down the St. John River in March isn’t all that unusual.
It’s surprising more English language learners don’t spend their days in a daze. Imagine being told the mean-looking guy down the street isn’t really an enemy, but a faux foe. Picture being informed that if you park illegally you’ll find you’ll get fined. You could take a cab instead, but if you ride with a trio of friends, you’d have to determine what a fair fare for four is.
Does a sportsman pray before pursuing his prey? Does he ride in a sleigh in order to better catch the quarry he wishes to slay? And does he receive any dough for dispatching a doe, or is he better off bagging a stag? Why do some hunters use short-haired dogs to help track down rabbits, while others prefer a hairier harrier? And at the end of the day, will they pitch a tent or stay in an inn?
A drama critic assigned to review a revue who suddenly remembers she needs to prove to her editor she attended the event would in all likelihood have to reseat herself after she got her receipt. Any part she had previously witnessed would be a seen scene.
Visualize a monk giving a nod as he gnawed on his steak, while his friends the friars ate fryers. Too bad the concert scheduled for the abbey that night was canceled, but inappropriate lyrics got the band banned.
Other potentially confusing scenarios:
Joe began to bawl when he got hit by the ball his brother threw through the window.
The sole soul at credit union tried to secure the lone loan of the day.
The Red Sox lost the second game, but at least they won one.
Mom’s muffins were better than those the maid made.
If Joe keeps snacking late at night, he’ll soon weigh way more than 300 pounds.
Shakespeare couldn’t get into the tavern because the bard was barred.
When he heard his herd got away, the rancher turned on his side and sighed.
For a nutritious root vegetable, you can’t beat a beet.
That girl I met in Butte was a real beaut.
The casino’s odds favor the house getting the better of the bettor.
Roger didn’t trust banks, so he hid a cache of cash in his pillowcase.
Josh not only burned the potatoes, he charred the chard.
The only thing more confusing than two homophones is three homophones. Think, “They’re eating their pizza over there,” “I knew they got a new gnu,” or, “Jackie can cite the exact time she caught sight of the site.”
There’s another one about a horde of working women who liked to hoard their cash, but high standards of journalism and decency prevents further elaboration here about exactly how those ladies earned that money.
— Andy Young’s family tells him he is no longer allowed to read his essays aloud.
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