|
There was a light moment during the second Presidential Forum hosted
by ANC at the UP auditorium. Host Che-che Lazaro misheard
Metropolitan Manila Development Authority (MMDA) Chairman Bayani
Fernando and quoted him to make sure she heard right. When Fernando
nodded, the audience had a big laugh.
She thought she heard him say that he was
“above the law.” The MMDA chairman, in response to an earlier
question, had said, “abide by the law.” He corrected her when he
realized he was misquoted but his reply was an item for a while.
Fernando was reassuring Lazaro that his campaign
on illegal sidewalk vending, mandated by law, was enforced “with a
heart.” He abided by the law but for a humanitarian reason.
Mishearing a word or phrase and repeating it is
called a “mondegreen.” It frequently happens when someone hears
a song or poem for the first time and the listener/reader repeats
the misheard phrase. It also happens in daily communication. The
results are often amusing.
Many Latinos named Jose, for example, have
wondered why the US national anthem invoked their name.
A boy saying his first Our Father prayed:
“Harold be thy name . . . ”
The journalist and wit Emilio “Abe” Aguilar
Cruz said a clamor to rewrite the national anthem from English to
Filipino began when children sang, “cradle of novaleros [cradle of
noble heroes].”
The FEU administration asked the National Artist
Nick Joaquin to write a new school anthem because the Tamaraws were
singing, “To hell [to hail] your glorious past . . .”
Some mixed the Christmas spirit with
unseasonable soup when they sang, “Sopas as da voice of an angel .
. .”
As a child, Sylvia Wright misheard the last line
of a famous old Scottish ballad called The Bonny Earl o’ Murray
and thought it went:
Ye Hielands and ye Lowlands/O where hae ye
been?/Thay hae slain the Earl o’ Murray/And Lady Mondegreen.
The last line turned out to be “And hae laid
him on the green.” She wrote about her disappointment in
Harper’s and coined the word “mondegreen.”
‘A working visit’
Okay, so the July 30 trip of President Gloria
Arroyo to Washington, D.C., for a meeting with President Barack
Obama is a “working trip,” not a state visit.
What’s the difference between a working trip
and a state visit? A state visit would accord the visiting head of
state certain amenities, including Secret Service protection, hotel
accommodation for members of the official party, the traditional
state dinner and a one-on-one meeting between host and guest.
The big deal about state visits is the state
dinner, even for the natives. It’s a great honor to be invited to
the White House to meet the US president, the first lady, and the
distinguished guest. Those who live in and outside the
Beltway—from politicians to celebrities—eagerly seek an
invitation.
Some people at the White House weren’t exactly
thrilled by state dinners. At one time, they noticed that many
items—silverware, ashtrays, napkins, vases and other presidential
mementos—were missing after dinner. The petty theft happened
several times and the staff groped for a solution.
Finally, an aide wise to the ways of the world
offered a counterattack. They hired a professional thief and allowed
him to mingle with the guests to steal back the loot. Guests had a
great surprise when they reached home and found their pockets and
bags empty.
‘Cigarette money’
Defense Secretary Gilbert Teodoro wants Sulu
Vice Gov. Lady Anne Sahidulla to explain why she gave the Abu Sayyaf
terrorists P50,000 for the release of Red Cross worker Eugenio Vagni.
It’s government policy, Teodoro reminded her, not to pay ransom
for a hostage. Sahidulla, who volunteered the information that the
P50,000 was personal money, said that she had forked the cash over
as “a token of goodwill.” The P50,000, she said, was for
“cigarette money.”
The Abus, of course, didn’t call it
“cigarette money.” They asked for, according to press accounts,
payment for Vagni’s “board and lodging.” Whatever the
participants called the deal, it smelled ransom. The terrorists had
initially asked for P5 million. Still, P50,000 could buy a lot of
smoke.
“Cigarette money,” in these islands, is a
euphemism for grease money, bribe or cash handed out for a favor.
You could also call it “coffee money” or “pamasahe
[transportation fare].” It’s a nice phrase for a social exchange
that gets things done.
Grease goes by many names, the more popular
being “lagay,” “padulas” or “pampasaya [make someone
happy].” The police call it “kotong” while conniving lawmakers
and public work contractors use the words “commission” or “SOP
[standard operating pay].” It’s “payola” in the radio
business. PR experts and “erring” journalists prefer
“envelopmental journalism”
“For the boys!” the guy with the envelope
cries as he hands over an envelope. If you wish to be discreet, you
could tell the recipient it’s “balato,” a share of your
winning in a poker or mahjong game.
At Christmas, some bureaucrats have an inventive
way to spread cash discreetly. They tender parties for employees and
selected guests and hold “raffles” where everybody wins.
Memo to the desk editor: Please don’t use
“ransom money” for the head or news story. “Ransom” is
sufficient. And please don’t write “KFR” or “kidnap for
ransom” gang. Nobody kidnaps another person for fun.
|
