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  • From: Clansgian AT wmconnect.com
  • To: homestead AT lists.ibiblio.org
  • Subject: Re: [Homestead] our prez-Nuclayer, nuclear, or just nuke the whole damn thing.
  • Date: Wed, 17 Sep 2008 22:24:05 EDT

This is one of my favorite stories about what I was talking about, hearing
sounds you are not used to and pigeon holing them in the slot where they most
closely fit.


At the last non-cottage industry gig I had, one of the scientists was from
Scotland. Our supervisor was a rank hielandmon, but Stewart was from the
lowlands and had a much softer accent. The supervisor was unintelligible
until you
got to know him. Many a time Denise answered the phone and said, 'It's
Allan." "What does he want?" "I haven't a clue, I just know it's Allan."

But one dropped one's linguistic guard around Stewart. One day he came into
the room where I was sorting various and sundry cables and said,

"James, can you tell me how I can get a phone card."
"Well, Stewart, contact your phone carrier and after they check your credit
and account, they will issue you a phone card in a few days."
"It's as much trouble (troooble) as that, is it?"
"I'm afraid so."
"I was hoping you'd have one in here somewhere and I could just use it."
"A phone card?"
"Yes."
"They don't trust me with such."
"Ah, well, I'm not used to the way of things here yet. I wanted to move me
desk just a wee, but I canny plug in the phone when I do. I just needed a
new
phone card, maybe six feet or so."

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