July 1- 7, 2004

slant

Tongue Tied

Some media pros can't even pronounce their own jobs.

by Chuck Varesko

The English language is a great means of communication, but a lack of consistency often sneaks into the pronunciation of words. This happens naturally on the streets and byways of our great land, but now we have people in the media who are helping speed the devolution of our native tongue.

Take the weatherman — or "weather girl" — for instance. That's what people who gave weather forecasts on radio and television were called not too long ago. But, probably in an effort to sound more sophisticated — and, in the latter case, politically correct — the people who served up the weather came to be called by the scientific title of meteorologists (from the Greek meteoron, for things "high in the sky," and logos, meaning "study").

While meteorologist sounds quite impressive and scientific, it's not that easy to pronounce. Wrapping your tongue around all those syllables can be tough, even for weather reporters in Philadelphia, sadly enough.

One of the meteorologists on a major news-radio station used to get stuck on the "awl" syllable. It would go on just a bit too long, as in "aaawwwwlllll-uh-just." (He'd drag it out longer than Fred Sherman drags out his name at the end of his stock-market report.) But this particular fellow is a success story. I don't know how he did it. Relaxation techniques? Speech therapy? Drugs? Whatever it was, he beat that syllabic elongation, and now he hardly hesitates at all as he blazes through "meat-eee-rr-awl-uh-just" at the end of his reports.

Still, some other weather guys — I mean meteorologists — haven't been as lucky. Instead they contribute to the devolution of our language by leading their listeners down the slippery slope of mispronunciation. One of them, no doubt hoping that nobody will ever notice, has actually taken his job title and changed it to something he can wrap his mouth around. Instead of "meteorologist," he's dubbed himself a "meteoropitist." Sometimes, in pursuit of even slicker syllables, he shortens it to "meteoropist." (I guess he uses that when they're running short on time and have to get to a commercial.)

In a world where people are "axing" other people questions, the "meteoropist" is only one example of professionals who are leading the masses toward loose language standards. Some newsmen (should they be "newsologists"?) hold the standard of shoddy speech high as they wade through their reports. One can't say the name of our great state (excuse me, commonwealth) and says "Pennsavania" instead. He actually has a great radio voice, except for his inability to pronounce the name of our home state and several other words such as "average" (which he renders as "avage").

Most listeners probably don't really notice, but there are those of us who do, and we feel someone has to set a standard for the general public.

These broadcasters, professionals in a major market, could surely afford to pay for some speech lessons. The way they talk now not only sounds bad but detracts from the credibility of the announcers and the stations they work for. So perhaps it's speech-camp time. Up at 5:30 a.m., the announcers would do throat warmups, gargle for a while and then be put through a phonetic workout by tough, no-mispronunciation drill sergeants. ("Did I hear a lazy L mister?! Drop and give me 50 fricatives!")

I will admit, meteorologist is a tough one, but if you break it down and take it one sound at a time you can get through it. Say it with me: "meat-eee-or-awl-uh-just." There, that wasn't so tough.

Just like the one success story who beat the stretched-out "awwwllll," if we all work together, someday soon we won't be getting our weather reports from a meteoropist. Maybe when that day comes, we can get that news guy to say Pennsylvania as well. But if we can't get the meteorologists to say it (or even some forecasts) right, maybe we should suggest a change in their job title.

How about something like "sky watcher" or "atmospheric reporter?" They don't sound as fancy but, of course, they're a whole lot easier to say.

Chuck Varesko is a professional commercial announcer from Merion. If you would like to respond to this Slant or have one of your own (800 words), contact Brian Hickey, City Paper managing editor/news, 123 Chestnut St., third floor, Phila. PA 19106 or e-mail hickey@citypaper.net.