{"id":3821,"date":"2007-09-14T00:00:00","date_gmt":"1970-01-01T00:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lesliedinaberg.com\/wordpress\/?p=3821"},"modified":"2015-09-28T20:43:52","modified_gmt":"2015-09-29T03:43:52","slug":"yo-ho-yo-ho","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lesliedinaberg.com\/wordpress\/?p=3821","title":{"rendered":"Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me!"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\u00a9 Nejron | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images<\/p><\/div>\n

Ahoy mates. As we sail out onto the high seas of life, we take our pleasures where we may. I, for one, ‘ave been shivering me timbers for months in anticipation of my favorite holiday. That’s right, next Wednesday, September 19, is International Talk Like a Pirate Day<\/strong><\/a>.<\/p>\n

Rather than yield this blarney beauty to the Wednesday columnists, I decided to polish my pirate patina now, so I’d be extra, extra prepared to talk like a pirate next week.<\/p>\n

6 Bells: <\/b>My scallywag of an alarm goes off. Time for me dilemma of the morn, do I hit t’ snooze button or hit t’ gym? T’ hook I attached t’ me port arm while gettin’ into character last night accidentally taps t’ snooze. Aye! Problem solved.<\/p>\n

7 Bells: <\/b> Five snoozes later I finally roll out o’ bed and try on a few outfits. “That’s some pirate booty all right,” says me mate, so I discard a tight pair of britches and go for the serving wench look instead. “How’d you like to scrape the barnacles off of me rudder?” greets me this time. I’d better try again.<\/p>\n

7-1\/2 Bells: <\/b>Wake up lad fer school. He’s not exactly a Jolly Morning Roger. I use me powers o’ persuasion t’ convince th’ lad’s that he wants cereal instead o’ French Fries fer breakfast.<\/p>\n

8 Bells: <\/b>Drive me lad t’ school, a wee red convertible comes ou’ o’ nowhere t’ steal me favorite parkin’ spot at Vieja Valley. Arrrr! (Note t’ self: does it sound more pirate-like to say “Arrr,” “Aurgh,” or “Arrrrrrrrrrrgg…?” I wish I could text Peter Skarsgaard<\/a> an’ ask th’ lad’s advice on how not to get hornswaggled.)<\/p>\n

9 Bells: <\/b>Interview the director o’ a local nonprofit. She doesn’t even crack a smile when I ask her if I can have a peek in her treasure chest. Aurgh!<\/p>\n

12 Bells: <\/b> Job well done. I complete t’ interviews for three stories, and find someone to scrape the barnacles off me rudder. I decide t’ take a break and check me email. Avast! I’m transfixed by t’ shear number o’ emails from t’ PTA. It’s enough t’ make me want t’ hit th’ grog, but I settle fer another cup o’ coffee.<\/p>\n

1 Bells p.m.: <\/b>A glance at me calendar reminds me that t’ lad has a bucko comin’ over after school. I smartly make t’ beds and do t’ breakfast dishes, though I know th’ sprogs will destroy everythin’ in sight within minutes.<\/p>\n

1-1\/2 Bells p.m.: <\/b> Me stomach’s growlin’ with hunger, but that scallywag son of a biscuit eater o’ a husband o’ mine forgot t’ put grub on t’ shoppin’ list, so I’m forced t’ go out. T’ owner o’ a local Chinese Restaurant says they don’t serve pirates, so I’m forced t’ eat a burrito. Arrrrrrrgg!<\/p>\n

2 Bells p.m.: <\/b>I pick up me son and his bucko at school and get sweet-talked into takin’ them for ice cream. Beware t’ evils o’ chocolate chips, I warn. They listen t’ t’ wise old pirate lady and order cookie dough instead.<\/p>\n

3 Bells p.m.: <\/b>The wee bilge rats are so wired from the sugar rush that they destroy my garden. Arrr. I’d like to make them walk the plank, but instead I give the wee scallywags a timeout in the bung hole.<\/p>\n

4 Bells p.m.: <\/b> I’ve got one hour t’ write me story, return 17 phone calls an’ read 57 emails. Th’ phone rings an’ its me husband remindin’ me about soccer practice. I’ve got a school board meetin’ tonight, I tell th’ ever-lovin’ landlubber. If ye don’t want t’ be bunkin’ in Davy Jones locker, ye old sea dog, ye better pick up some grub fer dinner on yer way homeport from work.<\/p>\n

6 Bells p.m.: <\/b>Shiver me timbers, will you look at that thar beauty! I exclaim as me swashbuckling hero comes with a big bottle of rum and me favorite dishes, Salt Cod and Rice (heavy on the salt cod), Rice and Salt Cod (light on the rice), and Salt Cod Medley (salt cod combined with chunks of salt cod). That’s my buccaneer. It’s a pirate’s life for me indeed. Argh!<\/p>\n

When she’s not talking like a pirate or walking like an Egyptian, Leslie can be reached at email<\/a> For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.<\/h6>\n
Originally appeared in the\u00a0Santa Barbara Daily Sound<\/a>\u00a0on September 14, 2007.<\/h6>\n

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