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Dat boy next store

The hubz and I finally went on our honeymoon in beautiful Negril, Jamaica. We made friends with locals and with visitors from all over the United States and Canada.  Our new friends were quick to acknowledge our distinctive accents.

Upon our return I began final copy edits and formatting for my most recent release Fated Desires. And the paperback cover went to print, approved by me, with an egregious error.

“…the young widower next store” instead of the accurate “…the young widower next door.” It’s vernacular, a local-ism, and embarrassing - it’s on the damn cover!

Between being called out in Jamaica for my accent and that damn phonetic typo, a friend suggested I write a blog post in Philadelphian. I thought that was a fun idea.

Thanks, Deb
This is Deb of the great idea
It’s harder than I thought it would be. I don’t exactly recognize that I’m not pronouncing a particular word correctly.  For example, did you know that

mayonnaise isn’t pronounced MAN-ASE; crayons aren't CROWNS; and spigot does not sound remotely like SPICKET - except in Philly they do.
Waz fuckin newzta me. I spell it right, I say it wrong, and I have no idea. Caus no one in Philly knows it ether. I hadda look dis shit up. No lie. And in large part thanks to

now I gotta list. Check it out:

Ain’t dat sumtim?


  1. Ha, ha, ha! This is wonderful! I used to speak with a New York accent long ago, but when I moved to Arizona, the kids there beat it out of me. And I'm so happy I was the inspiration for this funny piece. Gaw head, you keep taawkin' 'cause I love your additood.

    1. Thanks, Deb. It was a revelation to learn how many things I've been saying wrong these past 41 years!


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