Sunday, May 31, 2009's always all about the language

Do you remember being younger and singing the words to a song, and then finding out that the words you were singing were SO VERY WRONG! Blinded by the Light by Bruce Springsteen comes to mind.

If you don't understand what your are hearing, how can it be wrong?

Recently I took the kids and Darcy's friend to see the Hannah Montana movie. Yes, I took one for the team. Matt went to see the new Star Trek movie at the very same time. To say he owes me is an understatement.

Prior to the movie, there were the obligatory commercials and previews. Turkey is famous for what often turns out to be a half-hour of crap before the actual movie starts. So we sit through all of this, kids getting increasingly squirrely, and the last preview that comes on flashes a warning "This preview has been rated R" Wha-wha-what??

Why are you showing an R-rated preview at a kids movie?? It was for the fine cinematic creation called My Best Friend's Girl. The preview started with the term "blow job" in the first 30 seconds, included a scene in a strip club with a young lady on her hands and knees and a young man facing her posterior with both hands on her hips, and included more swear words than I've ever heard in 2 minutes. And I have been known to let a few fly.

Gulp! I complained to the manager who said, "Really?? I didn't know it was so offensive." Guess I wouldn't either if I didn't speak the language. I wish I knew the words in Turkish to explain the gravity of the situation.

Two days later, my cleaner showed up at work with a shirt for Darcy. She has seen one or two of Darcy's occasional pre-teen outbursts and has 2 nieces around the same age. She's very sweet and wanted to get her something special. So she shows up with a black tank top with silver writing all over it. A bit too old for Darcy but I figure I can get her to wear it one day, the cleaner sees her wearing it, and I'm off the hook.

Except when I look at it a bit closer, I realize that there is one word you can actually read. One word among all the silver letters that suddenly jumps off the shirt to me. The word is "orgasm".

I call my Turkish friend to ask what the protocol is when your cleaner gives you a completely inappropriate shirt for your 10-year-old and to ask what the word is in Turkish as there's no way I can get around telling her why I can't accept the shirt.

For future reference, the word is the same, just add an "i" to the end. I sheepishly point out the now very obvious to our cleaner, who is beyond appalled. Cok Kutu! she declares (Very bad). Cok comik! I reply (very funny). Hayir! Cok ayip! (NO! That's shameful!)

I can only imagine the language she will use with the poor unsuspecting stall owner when she returns the shirt to the Wednesday market. I'm sure there will be no misunderstanding.

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