My son has very sensitive skin. Every year, we get at least one call from school saying he’s broken out in hives and can we come get him. It’s not hives; he has a condition called dermatographia, which makes the slightest touch register on his skin as a red mark. It usually takes 10 or 15 minutes to fade. His sensitive skin has also manifest in occasional bouts of eczema. The icy weather in December gave him a really bad case on his hands, and while over-the-counter cortisone cream and a week in the warm moist air of Florida helped, his hands ended up cracked, itchy and bleeding by the end of the year. Off we went to the doctor, who gave us a prescription strength steroid ointment and told us to use Burt’s Bees hand salve three times a day, too. This was when the arguments began.
I say “salve” to rhyme with “valve.” I always have. Husband says “salve” to rhyme with “have.” Always has. Every time I told my son to put on “salve-to-rhyme-with-valve”, Husband would yell “salve-to-rhyme-with-have”. So then came the dueling dictionaries. We have two unabridged ones in the house, and my dad’s old partner’s college one from the 60s. They seemed to support Husband. Then I went pronunciation shopping on line and quickly found Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary which had my pronunciation there, third in line. So there.
We’ve had these pronunciation arguements before — he says “greasy” to rhyme with “easy” not with the hard “s” of grease. I think that might be an east coast or southern thing. He doesn’t says grease to rhyme with ease, so why should changing the e to a y make a pronunciation difference?
All this is happening as we are both reading Damp Squid: The English Language Laid Bare by Jeremy Butterfield. It’s a UK-centric look at language, usage, and dictionaries. It’s the kind of book I find fascinating — but then I read books like Pinkert’s Practical Grammar (which doesn’t seem to be in print any more, but was a fun and funny way to learn about grammar) and Eats Shoots and Leaves for entertainment.
More importantly, it’s a book that supports what I’ve long said to Husband when he groans over phrases like “software program” [“It’s redundant! Software is a program!” — to which I replied that most people probably think of software as the thing you install and the program as the think geeks like Husband write]: that usage is the master of pronunciation and definition. What we say it means as a population trumps dictionaries, especially those compiled half a century ago. How we say it in Seattle trumps how they say it in Gainesville, at least as long as I’m in Seattle when I say it.
Bummer to all those linguistics geeks. And yahoo for them, too: it gives them stuff to study and argue about.
Love it!
I know that different pronunciations can drive people nuts. I’m not talking about accented English, but just different ways of saying things, like you point out.
Great post. (By the way, you’re right with both words!
As a US expat in NZ, I hear pronunciations that seem odd to me often. Even after 5 years I haven’t gotten used to flown pronounced as “FLOW-en” along with all other “own” words like known and grown. Or the word “fifth” pronounced like “fit.”
I’m from the South. My husband is a Westerner. That thing you roll around in the grocery store to collect what you will purchase? He says, “shopping cart,” she says, “buggy.”
“Everyone knows that a buggy is for babies,” he says. “No, darling,” she replies, “babies ride in strollers.”
I’m with you husband on salve, but not on easy! Salve is one of those tricky words, though, that I would probably try to avoid saying altogether because I’m so uncomfortable with it. Pronunciation anxiety.
I wish I had time to read pronounciation books because I’m reaching a point in my life where I’ve seen lots of words and can use (read: type) them in context … but since I’ve not had a real-life need to say them, I have no idea how.
Like Sara, I just avoid it. My husband, however, will plunge right in there. This is the same man who puts ”Oral” in his car to keep the gears from grinding.
I always assume I’m wrong and try to pronounce words as everyone else does–and not say other words at all. Like niche. Does it rhyme with itch or sheesh? I’m never sure, so I usually say “specialty” instead.
Lisa,
I’m laughing, thinking about pronunciation — I am in Glasgow (the one in Scotland) at the moment. it’s both a national and international crossroads and I’m here for a music festival, interesting to hear accents and cadences among audience members and performers.
look foward to reading more of your posts.
As a foodie, I get all worked up over the correct pronunciation of “caramel”. It’s CARE-a-mel, not CAR-mel.
I also cringe when people say “guh-radge” not “gah-rahzh” when referring to the place you park your car.
But what I’d really like to know is — does the Burt’s Bees help your son’s skin?
Our big argument is over pajamas (to rhyme with lamas or with the word “jam” in the middle).
When he remembers to use it, Burt’s Bees helps. But the steroids work better.