'Tucky
"'Tucky," my niece says pointing to her chest and smiling off into the distance. She is three years old and I am squatted next to her by the license plate of my car. She looks back at me and touches my shoulder. "'Rodo," she says moving her tiny finger to my license plate. Then she speaks in full sentences of undecipherable toddler language. Since I understand none of what she has just said, I do what most adults do in this case, I say to her, "Yes, Annie lives in Kentucky and Aunt Cathy lives in Colorodo."
It took me almost a year to figure out why I say "Colorodo" differently from other people who live here. I would watch their lips move and try to figure out what syllable I was pronouncing incorrectly. It wasn’t until that day with my niece that I figured it out. There is an “a” in Colorado but since most Kentuckians utilize their own pronunciation key, I say it with all "o’s." I believe pronunciation problems probably started for Kentuckians because someone passed things along by word of mouth, so we became used to saying things the way we were told instead of the way they were written.
This is similar to the way I pronounce the town where I was born and raised. "Louavul." This is the place where the Louisville Slugger is made. Some trivia for when you’re trying to impress your friends: They actually moved the plant across the bridge to Clarksville, Indiana for over 20 years but thankfully, they have returned to the right side of the river. In Kentucky, we whole-heartedly believe that even the birds fly upside down over Indiana. Okay, I’m getting off task already. Sorry. So, there is no "a" in Louisville and the "i" in ville becomes a "u," and don’t ask me what they did with the "s" but we end up with "Louavul."
So I think I’ve figured out a pattern. Where there’s an "a" pronounce it "o" and where there’s an "o" pronounce it like a soft "a." But unfortunately that doesn’t always work. The trick is knowing which vowels to convert because not all of them will be changed. This is why Colorado becomes all "o’s" instead of changing the "o’s" to a soft "a," which I’m not even going to try and say. Are you still with me?
Let’s take the town of Loretto. More trivia, this one you might actually be able to use: Maker’s Mark Bourbon is produced in "Laretta." Anyway, it’s spelled with "o’s" but both are pronounced using the soft "a’s." However, the "e" remains in tact.
Simple enough you think. Well, not really. It gets complicated with some other towns, for instance, Versailles, Kentucky. "Ver-sales" is named after the city in France that would be pronounced by the French, "Ver-si." Okay, so maybe that’s Kentucky French but you get the idea. We pronounce this one correctly. I guess I should qualify correctly. What I mean is, we pronounce all the letters just as they are written. That’s what happens when you expect hillbillies to speak French. If we were to utilize the "a" and "o" rules, then you might think we pronounce it "Versoulles." No such luck, we say "Ver-sales."
Finally, let’s take Danville. There’s not much else to say about "Danvul" except it’s dry, no alcohol, no fun, so don’t go there. But in this one, the "a" remains in tact, while the "i" is converted to a "u," similar to the way it’s pronounced in "Louavul." Again, "Danvul."
If only I couldn’t have gotten this information to Rumsfield in time. This would be a perfect code for W.