It is said that our speech betrays us. On my first visit to London I wanted to visit a music hall presentation which was similar to our vaudeville. At intermission we all went back to a small bar where the piano player was playing "The Lily of Laguna" to a singalong. I bellied up to the bar and said three words to the barmaid - "Gin and Tonic." She asked "Do you want ice, Yank?" and she spared me a sliver.
I thought I was blending in with these Brits but I guess my haircut gave me away. Years later I visited one of our ships in Jacksonville that had just arrived from Philadephia. There was a passenger on board, a writer for a maritime journal who must have had a good ear. I asked him how was the ride down from Philly. He said "Fine, what part of Philadelphia are you from?" The guy had me within five miles of my roots after twenty-five years. It was uncanny - and eerie. I recall a line from an old black & white movie where a lady says "you must be from Phil-a-del-phi-a, you slur your dipthongs.!" I guess you can take the lad out of Philadelphia but you can't take Philly out of the lad. GO IGGLES!
tjs
(P.S. - Even St. Peter was outed by the servant maid in the courtyard as his accent was so similar to Jesus the Galilean)
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