DBDs

Last year I had the delight of teaching a little guy named David who couldn't pronounce the V sound. Dabid lobed watching DBDs. I am so old that boy's underpants were called BVDs when I was a kid, so I had trouble squelching the giggles wheneber Dabid talked about his favorite DBDs. I also had trouble pronouncing the V sound by the end of each Wednesday class with Dabid. It was absolutely contagious. My team teacher and I, then the director and other staff, then the other kids and their parents...all of us falling bictim to this birus of pronunciation.

The only other experience that comes close is the little girl who couldn't pronounce the R sound. So instead of Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, she sang loudly of Dudolph the dead-nosed deindeeh. The memory of Dachel singing about Dudolph haunts my holidays like Scrooge's ghosts.

Today I took a big technology leap and bought a DBD player. I want to be able to watch my new "Triplets of Belleville" dbd, and show it to Steben's bideo-making friends. I also want to cue up a funny spot in "The Gods Must Be Crazy" for our jungle camp, and I could only find that old mobie on DBD.

I will report as soon as I regain control of my consonants on my adbenture with Mike to get a cd player for my Buick. Our shopping trip was a comedy of errors, but we were busy discussing how to grill chicken, and the recent history of health insurance in the U.S.

Must sign off. Hab an emergency appointment with Professor 'iggins.