As part of my grade school experience, fourth grade happened to fall on the year we learned French. That continued through sixth grade. Then into middle school. Four years in high school. Then, considering the classes I took in college, may have even qualified as a minor. Wanted to study in France a semester, but other things in life crowded that opportunity out.
Today? I may recall “merci”, days of the week, “Mon dieu”, or “merde” if I need to utter an expletive under my breath. After that, sorry to parlez, “Je ne me souviens pas.”
In between all of that, for the past sixty some years, three excellent professors have learned me to speak a compelling version of Latin I can literally put to use at a moment’s notice.
For those of you with an open mind, here is a short sample of swinging the alphabet in a classroom setting:
For those more comfortable in a relaxed, lunch room environment, this approach might be etter-bay:
Though my exposure to a romance language for so many years undoubtedly shaped my educational foundation, finding my roots in vulgar latin has been life changing. Thank goodness for reruns and now You Tube. Otherwise, how would I ever been able to attend a class held back in 1938?
It all seems pretty simple to me.
But I can still be umb-day.
...my temporary assignment. 