“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.”
“See, I knew it’d be awesome.”
“No, B. No. It’s not ‘Daan Cai-otee’ [imagine, if you will a flock of geese calling to each other across a flat, empty corn field in the early evening: Daan, Daan, Daan Cai-otee].”
“Are you making fun of me because I’m Midwestern?”
“You must say it as if every letter were a lover’s kiss–delicate at first, soft, tender–feel that ‘n’ in your mouth like a warm splash of tequila and then let the jagged edge of that c catch you like an unexpected but anticipated nibble at the base of your neck. Each sound should build to the next sound until, by the time you reach the ‘te,’ it comes out like the last gasp a woman makes before her lover fulfills his most sacred obligation to her. That, that is how you pronounce ‘Don Coyote.'”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
I like it.
Especially how it captures the futility of his windmill tiltin’.
Ha, good. I’m thinking it’s pretty funny, except he’s got me all self-conscious about calling him that now.
And here I thought Don was Senor Quixote’s first name. Ha!
I don’t know why I’m so worried about being able to properly pronounce ‘Don Coyote.’
Clearly, when we get together at our secret lefty meetings, he’ll go by Comrade Coyot, like a good communist. And I’ve got the Russian pronunciations down.
The “c” comes out of the back of the throat, sort of like a click and the end is a soft “eh” (rather than an “ay”). Like sex, what happens in the middle doesn’t signify so much as long as you have fun with it.
The question is whether the ‘y’ is pronounced in the Castilian, Caribbean, or Mexican fashion. I can’t have the proper auditory fantasies until I know which it is.
I wanted to pronounce it like this: Dan Kai-yo-tee. Apparently to men of Mexican descent, that is hilarious. I mean, hilarious. I believe the Coyote in question called other Spanish speaking folks just to tell them about it so that they could laugh, too.
Anyway, NM, I would guess that the Coyote in question would prefer it be pronounced in the Mexican fashion.
The whole thing reminded me of the time the recalcitrant brother’s family down in Georgia all put “To: Bun” on his Christmas presents so that he would hear his name pronounced in Midwestern fashion. I would argue that they are the only people who can make a three letter word with one vowel have two syllables, thus calling the recalcitrant brother something that sounds like “Bee-in.”
Still, I respect their linguistic differences and am determined to convince the Coyote in question that he should learn to enjoy mine.
determined to convince the Coyote in question that he should learn to enjoy mine.
My good woman, clearly the fact that I laughed meant that I was enjoying it immensely.
Yeah, but I want you to enjoy it in a way that doesn’t make me feel like a hick.
Did anyone else like that cartoon? I remember growing up, and thinking it was very silly. It took me a while to figure out that it was based on real literature, and not just the cute adventures of a Coyote and a Panda.
Of course, looking around, unless any of you are cartoon buffs, y’all were probably past that stage of life when this came out. I was.. six? Ish? and it was a little over my head.