You Can Call Me Al

"What on earth does Al Gore have to do with weight loss?" I can hear the question ringing out from the, uh, what? 4 of you that read this? It's a question for the ages, really. Well, besides the Blessed Internet that dear Al invented for us, thereby enabling us to cram the blogospheres full-to-busting with the virtual sound of our own voices, I'll tell you what he has to do with this.

Waiting with bated breath, aren't you? I had a roommate in college with whom I had the long-running joke of spelling that "baited" breath and then we would talk about having worms in our mouths. It's truly a wonder we didn't go into comedy; we clearly had the chops for it.

But I digress.

I was thinking of ol' Al up there tonight while I was dvdin' it up at almost midnight tonight. Almost midnight because I put it off all day long, that's why. I thought about just skipping it, but I sorta have a streak going, and I didn't want to break that. Plus, I really do need the exercise. I thought about just counting the marathon mopping I did tonight--45 minutes, moving as fast as I could; that is how big my entirely-covered-in-wood-and/or-tile-floors-apartment is (not complaining about the size; complaining about the flooring choices)--and how I was breathing hard and dripping sweat during most of it. But I finally decided that tonight could just be an It's Better Than Nothing night, and I turned on the TV and popped in the DVD of choice, one of the shortest I own.

I promise I'm getting to my point.

I'm not promising that it's a very good point. It's after midnight here, what do you want?

I did the Winsor Pilates upper body workout that Holly told you about yesterday. Earlier today? These different time zones have me so messed up. Regardless (my dh and I like to say that "irregardless" to each other because we think it's funny, but it has the unfortunate side effect of making me really have to concentrate when I say it to anyone who's not my dh or maybe Holly so that they don't think I really say it like that), all I could hear during my entire workout was the way tiny little Marie Winsor says "albow albow albow." Now, I've done this workout before, and I've noticed the pronunciational (besides intentionally saying words wrong, I also enjoy making words up)(or making up words, if you're Holly's dad and/or concerned about split infinitives)(you may roll your eyes here, but you've never had your grammar corrected by him, so I'll thank you to keep your judgments to yourself)(unless you're Holly, in which case you've totally been corrected by him, so judge away, baby) oddity, but tonight that was all I heard, and by the end of the tape (I know it wasn't a tape, but that's what folks my age call it; we're old, out of it, and proud of it) I had Paul Simon's song--referenced in the title of this post--in my head. Please never make me diagram that sentence. Also, I used the word "Holly" close to 700 times in that paragraph.

Told you it wasn't a very good point.

But the moral of the story is clear: proper pronunciation is a virtue. Pass it on.