by Michael Raymond

Created on: June 04, 2008   Last Updated: January 16, 2009

Homonymphomaniacism

Homonyms, homophones, homographs and heteronyms: not only is that a mouthful to say, it is a subject that can leave you in a daze for days. You might just have to spell your spell-checker for a bit, because it won't catch most of these, unless you're using "thees" and "thous". It definitely won't like those. Without trying to incite a riot, maybe we can gain a bit of insight into this confusing, confounding, confounded topic. I know this story picks up in the middle. That's a literary device. It's called plat... I mean plot.

...

"Ante up Auntie! Aught of anything I ought to be doing? Any affect I can have on the effect of all that ale an' whatever else is ailin' me?

If you're going to tell me your heir is out for some air, e're we get started, then I shall have to err on the side of caution ere he is allowed to return. It must be said aloud. I am not an ant, Aunt, and if you cannot augur a solution, I shall perform a bit of "augery" myself in an attempt of course, to expose him as the fraud he is, fraught with danger as this course may be.

""Well," she said, "when you get to the well, you expect to get water".

Normally, I simply wade into any conversation, but her words gave me pause-no, she doesn't have a dog-and after I had weighed my options, I felt it best to just nod my head in total incomprehension. Dealing with my aunt was an exercise in comparative religions. From demons to exorcise, to original sin, to mentally computing the average frequency of a sine wave, you had to know the sign of deteriorating conversation.

Before this tale becomes too intense and grows a porpoise tail of its own, allow me to say, for all intents and purposes, my motives in confronting my aunt were not base, nor was I simply twiddling the strings on the bass guitar, as it were. I was thoroughly and thoughtfully concerned for her continued well being and, though that may not yet be abundantly clear, I shall endeavor to resolve that prior to the story's end, ever mindful of your welcome patience.

First of all, I am an invalid, which probably makes some of your early assumptions invalid. You most likely thought I was a doctor tending patients. My aunt, her name is Flo, is a fount from whom flows all of those "good vibes" the children of the sixties-now in their sixties-were always talking about. Naive as Ellie May and her mistaken nomenclature of "double barrelled, over the shoulder slingshot", Aunt Flo will shoulder any burden, champion any cause, ignoring the raucous

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