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04-14-08, 07:43 AM
Monday mornings, I like to read the Metropolitan Diary in the NY Times. Today I saw this bit:
Overheard outside a florist’s shop on Third Avenue near 71st Street in Manhattan:
Potential customer, older man: “Got any doyt?”
I burst out laughing because I understood it, even though it's an older accent I haven't heard in a while. Then I realized that wasn't the end of it.
Clerk: “What’s doyt?”
P.C.: “Ya know ... ya dig it ... outa da oyt.”
That's when I realized the charming and beloved Noo Yawk accent is disappearing. (For reference to the old Noo Yawk accent, watch the Honeymooners or any WWII movie w/ a character named "Brooklyn" in it.) Oh well, time marches on. Think I'll go get a cuppa cawfee an' a bialy.
Overheard outside a florist’s shop on Third Avenue near 71st Street in Manhattan:
Potential customer, older man: “Got any doyt?”
I burst out laughing because I understood it, even though it's an older accent I haven't heard in a while. Then I realized that wasn't the end of it.
Clerk: “What’s doyt?”
P.C.: “Ya know ... ya dig it ... outa da oyt.”
That's when I realized the charming and beloved Noo Yawk accent is disappearing. (For reference to the old Noo Yawk accent, watch the Honeymooners or any WWII movie w/ a character named "Brooklyn" in it.) Oh well, time marches on. Think I'll go get a cuppa cawfee an' a bialy.