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Author, Contemporary Romance, Dontopendalogy, Gaffes, Gloria Richard, Humor, Malarkey, Prince Philip, Readers Digest, Writer, Writes
An important word missed inclusion by the Knight of the Realm of Word-dom, His Royal Authority, Dick Shunairy. That word is Dontopedalogy.
Here’s how this Glob article plans to organize the wisdom contained herein.
NOTE TO SELF: Wrap a definition around Glob v Blog, so Gloria Richard Writes will have a tangible, achievable goal.
Whoop! I wander off topic. Back to the article content:
- Origin of Dontopedalogy
- Quotes credited to the creator of the word
- Top ten reasons I aced Dontopedalogy during a Corporate America Happy Hour field trip
- The OMG! gaffe that earned a gold star on my essay exam
Okay, class, please pick up your iPads, iPods, iPadookas and bring your eyes along for a ride.
Ready?
We begin.
During a recent visit to the *library* I found the February, 2012 issue of Reader’s Digest more entertaining than the ingredients list on the back of Bath & Body Works’ Lime Verbena Hand Soap.
I found a snort-on-a-page at 188, A ROYAL BLUNDERER.
ORIGIN OF DONTOPEDALOGY
Following is the excerpt provided by Reader’s Digest on the origin of our word today.
According to England’s Prince Philip, “Dontopedalogy is the science of opening your mouth and putting your foot in it, a science which I have practiced for a good many years.”
QUOTES CREDITED TO PRINCE PHILIP (creator of the word)
These samples (again provided by Reader’s Digest) prove his point:
To a driving instructor in Scotland: “How do you keep the natives off the booze long enough to get them through the test?”
To the Nigerian President, dressed in traditional robes: “You look like you’re ready for bed!”
To a blind woman with a guide dog: “Do you know they’re now producing eating dogs for anorexics?”
To Australian Aborigines: “Do you still throw spears at each other?”
Said on a visit to Canada: “We don’t come here for our health. We can think of other ways of enjoying ourselves.”
Okay, those are bad, right? Inquiring minds want to know what “other ways of enjoying ourselves” he references, but…
That’s a topic for a more risqué glob.
As stated earlier, I believe I ACED finals in this Science during a Corporate America Happy Hour field trip. But, I have my excuses reasons…
I blundered. Big Time. Okay?
TOP TEN REASONS I ACED DONTOPEDALOGY FINALS
TEN: I held a glass of wine in my hand at the time.
NINE: The hole in the bottom of said glass left a mere swig remaining.
EIGHT: My IQ moves in inverse proportion to my (1) adrenaline level, and (2) alcohol consumption.
SEVEN: It was not the first glass of wine that found its way to my hand that evening.
SIX: It was a field test for the cliché-alert phrase: Imitation is the sincerest form of compliment.
FIVE: The song on my car radio en route to the Field Test played a catchy, repetitive refrain. Let’s pretend it was La Bamba. Okay? Good.
FOUR: The chilled room caused my teeth to chatter.
THREE: My horoscope (Scorpio) said it would be a day of many Fs. Yeah, I know. I scratched my head over that one, too.
TWO: The cadence of the conversation caught my fancy, and who doesn’t fancy good cadence?
And, the Number One Reason I ACED Dontopedalogy Finals is…
ONE: I had a brain fart gaseous expulsion.
Before we move on to revelation of this epic blunder, please try to understand that it was not my best moment, but…
Simply a blunder. No foul play, or intentional mimicking, or making fun at ALL.
MY EPIC BLUNDER REVEALED
The top ten reasons likely gave you a sense of where this happened. Yes, it was a Happy Hour reception for major clients visiting from out-of-town.
One of my FAVORITE clients (seriously), who was (shame-on-me) easy on the eyes, approached me to say hello. This client—we’ll call him Ralph—had a minor speech impediment. He stuttered at times. NO! I do not mock those who stutter.
The conversation:
Ralph: “G-g-g-g-gloria! How are you?”
Me: “F-f-f-f-fine, Ralph! How are you?”
I do not recall any portion of the ensuing conversation. I do recall thinking, “OMG! Where did that come from?” I also recall thinking, “Just keep talking. Pretend it never happened. And, whatever you say, don’t stutter.”
I am relieved to report that he continued to be a good friend and faithful customer for many years after The Grand Gaffe.
I am also relieved to report that I no longer practice IQ impairment through wine consumption. My study on that is complete.
SLINKING AWAY TO AWAIT COMMENTS
It’s lonely here in the Dontopedalogy Department. I know some of you sit there with your secret blunders thinking, “dare I tell?” The answer to that is, of course, yes. Drop by the lab today and join me as we celebrate the gaffes in life we survived to tell.
I need a good snort or two today. “Snort” as in uncontrolled sudden intact of air, people!
If you have never committed an Epic Blunder, I’ll lend you one of mine. Yes, there are more. If you prefer to be discreet and keep your blunders to yourself, drat! just say “hi.”
To show my COMMENT GLEE, if we surpass a super-secret number of comments, I will post another gaffe from my past in a future article titled Pride in a Puddle.
Gloria Richard 
All righty then. I’m going to post comment after comment for the express purpose of surpassing said super-secret number of comments.
Grande Gaffe? I have many, none come to mind at the moment, except for the tidbit I shared when I was forced to write a 17-fact post about moi for toi.
It is not my fault the toothless, 90-years-if-a-day cab driver proposed to me on my way to work. “You seem such a nice young lady. I’ve been looking for a good wife.”
It is my fault that I arrived at work and immediately shared my horror with my department of all male, married co-workers, all banded together on a mission to see me permanently hooked up. Bright sides abounded. You’ll never have to take the bus again! You’ll never be late for work! You can use that new blender to grind up his dinner!
I heard a great line years ago: I only take my foot out of my mouth long enough to put the other one in.
Yes, that would be me.
“I have many…” (Your words, not mine.)
I bear witness to some of them, and I can be bought.
WOOT. Ain’t it always the way. Hit send, and then something more suitable comes to mind.
Job interview at a winery. Interviewer/potential new boss describes the clientele.
Potential New Boss: Our customer base is made up of a pretty friendly group of people.
Me: Of course they are. They’re all drunk!
I got the job.
SNORT! Can’t believe you said that. No. Wait. I can.
Are you certain you and Prince Philip don’t connect somewhere on the family tree-to-limb-to-twigs?
You got your job. He got to keep his after the comment in Scotland.
Hmmm…I KNOW I have some, but for some reason, no examples are coming to mind. If I think of one, I will certainly come and comment though. What a great post! You had me rollin’!!!!
Here’s to endless glasses of wine!
I’m waiting for you, April!
After your “here’s to endless glasses of wine,” I feel certain you’ll have a brand new one for us before this post becomes yesterday’s glob.
Still waiting, April. C’mon. Give it up.
I’m sure I hold certification in DONTOPENDALOGY. The key is smiling prettily where they are dazzled by your smile right before the foot enters in the mouth.
Oh! Oh! I was smiling!
Prettily or tipsily remains a mystery.
Gloria, like you I am a compulsive-over-talker and for reasons I can’t share … I stopped my twelve step program for O-TA before I learned my lesson. Never … that is a never … start any conversatin with any other woman with “You look great, when’s your due date?”
If you don’t get it then I’ll drum you out of the club 🙂
Next meeting of O-TA is Jan. 1, 2013 when we can all safely agree that the Mayan Calender ended because their scientists ran out of ink.
Mayan Calender ends because their scientists ran out of ink, indeed.
May I expect a blog article as the hands of time approach The Big Day?
In re: your gaffe. You didn’t really do that, did you? Really? Woot!
You beat mine when some friends and I were at a table (or, was it the bar) in Fridays dreaming up old fashioned names and having a good-old-time until I said “Myrtle! Who would name a kid Myrtle?”
Seems the until-then-silent stranger nearby had a Mom who would name a kid Myrtle. Myrtle and I did not bond that evening.
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Oh Gloria, I’m sure I have way too many of these blunders hidden deep inside the cave I call a brain, but as of right now none of them are within finding distance. I mean it. I think I have suppressed the social horror so far down into the cave, that at first glance it looks like I’m not a screw-up. (Which we all know is the actual truth). So if I can remember any, I’ll share. Meanwhile, take my word for it. I know they’re in there and if I can pull any of them out, I will. 🙂
Oh, they’re in there, Jessica.
I choose to go with the theory that they’re SO bad you chose to hide them deep within repressed memory–where even you fear to venture.
Cough one up and I’ll take away the SO BAD comment.
Hi Gloria. Great word and a good laugh! Yeah, I think Charlie boy opened up the university for this subject. Even if he didn’t actually say all the things often credited to him, it’s not implausible to believe he did.
There have been times when I wished the earth would open up and swallow me, but since I was usually under the influence at the time, it usually did, practically speaking.
I was once in an elevator with colleagues from another company. One of these colleagues was at least 200lb, way less than five foot tall, and bald.
It was a long time ago, so the portable computer he was taking to the meeting occupied a small dolly he was dragging behind him. The computer had a monitor, printer, keyboard, and boxes piled up. I remarked to a friend “Looks like R2D2.” It was an obvious comment, the computer did look like that. The short, fat, bald colleague overheard and glowered at me for what seemed like a further 1,287,000,345,398 floors.
The meeting didn’t go well.
Cheers!
SNORT! I can see it now, Nigel.
There is no way to dig yourself out of that one with an explanatory comment. “Your computer, not you…” would leave the obvious “although, you DO…” hanging in space for those umpty-ump number of floors.
Perhaps it would have been a good time to employ a gaseous expulsion of the silent, deadly variety. You could have given him a quick glare as you sniffed the air.
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I have some, but I’m keeping them a secret. Great post Gloria!