“WWOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH.”

One of the best things about working from home is daytime television. No really. I’m amazingly easily sidetracked. The fact that there is a fridge in the kitchen is a big problem. It talks to me. “Come on. Open me. Have a little ice-cream. Perhaps an orange, that’s healthy you know.” It cajoles and whispers sweet everythings until I crack. I stop writing and open the fridge and I’m doomed to go visit the internet while I’m eating because I can’t concentrate now and all of a sudden an hour or two has passed non-productively.

So thanks heavens for daytime television. It’s so staggeringly dire that it’s impossible to watch. Soap operas where all the actors only went to the acting classes on expressing sadness. Quiz shows. Judge shows. “I slept with my grandmother’s girlfriend” shows. Daytime TV is impossible to watch.

Until Ellen. There, I said it. Ellen DeGeneris. The woman is a genius. Unashamedly upbeat and joyous, she infects her audience and her viewers with happiness. If I don’t turn the TV off before she starts, I’m captured for the next hour.

But there is a downside to her show for me, and it’s whooping. The audience goes crazy when she comes on, but they don’t just stand up and applaud and cheer, they whoop. “WWOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH.” “WWOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH.” And it’s not just at the opening of the show. She only has to ask an innocent question. “Is anyone here from Podunk?” “WWOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH,” goes the complete audience.

I guess I’m a little jealous of this ability to whoop, because I can’t. I think it’s because I’m British. We are not genetically equipped to whoop. It was actually pointed out to me once in a spinning class when every other person in the class was letting out shrieks of joy at regular intervals but I was just thrashing away silently at the pedals. I did actually try a whoop, but it sounded like that pathetic little “yee-hah” uttered by Billy Crystal in City Slickers. I’m glad no-one heard it.

If I See This One More Time, I’m Going to Loose it!

There is almost nothing, other than the use of the word “irregardless,” more guaranteed to start that vein in my temple pulsing than the use of “loose” when it should be “lose.” Happily the transposition doesn’t seem to operate in the other direction. In my previous corporate life I would receive emails quite regularly to inform me that the customer was “loosing data,” or the developer didn’t want to “loose focus” on a bug. In customer replies of course I would not point out the mistake, but I would take every opportunity to use the word “lose” until it was peppered all over the email or letter, usually to the detriment of the message. As for the developer, I would pick up a marker, go to his/her cubicle, and write on the white board “Loose = Not tight” and “Lose = Can’t find.” Of course, the developers delighted in this reaction and would take every opportunity they could to feed my frenzy in the same way they casually threw “irregardless” into every conversation just to see my temples throb.

Hey, what can I tell you? I straighten pictures. I straighten Scrabble tiles. If I see a woman with a clothing label protruding at the neckline, I almost have to sit on my hands to resist the urge to pop it back inside unasked and risk a harassment lawsuit that I would probably loose.

…and Bob’s Your Uncle.

I can’t understand why Americans think the British are quaint. Possibly Masterpiece Theatre has a lot to do with it. When a Brit is talking to a Yank, even if said Brit is wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops, the British accent seems to overwhelm the senses of the naive American listener. Suddenly the person standing before them is dressed in a top hat and morning coat (male) or a crinoline dress and lace bonnet (female) ready to climb aboard the pony and trap for the trip to the manor house.
This doesn’t work so well for seasoned Americans who have worked alongside Brits for some time. But even they can be stopped in their tracks by a sudden phrase, such as “Bob’s your uncle.”

Here’s how it goes. “It’s easy. You just press the power button to turn it on, press the channel buttons until you’ve found the channel you want, press the record button, and Bob’s your uncle.” And with that phrase, all that has gone before is forgotten. “Bob’s my uncle? I don’t have an uncle Bob. And even if I did, what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Bob’s your uncle” is a well-known (in Britain) British idiom. Explaining it is not easy. It means something like …and there you go” or …and you’re all set.” Its origin is unclear. The most common explanation is that it’s derived from the 1880s when the British Prime Minister Robert Cecil appointed his nephew Arthur Balfour to a top government post. This overt nepotism is said to have led to Uncle Bob becoming a catch-phrase for anything that turned out well.