He was a former Army guy, ascerbic but witty, coach of the junior varsity boys’ basketball team and to correct my behavior would have me stand in a corner and contemplate the “transcendental dot of meditation” (though still requiring me to read my vocabulary assignment aloud like the rest of the class).

He also kept a container on his desk labeled “Potted Possum.” He loved perpetuating the naive belief among students that it was real.

In the end, I have to thank him, because he taught me valuable life lessons about how to deal with difficult people (meaning me) and helped test me out of foreign language in college (though I can’t say the same about having take remedial math).

In any case, I find today, almost two decades later, that his legacy continues.

I wish I could say that it meant I could speak fluent Spanish. I can’t, though I can generally make out basic written communication.

What I’m certainly left with is the ability to pronounce Spanish words.

When I read the name “Roberto” out loud, I say, “Roe-BARE-tow,” instead of “Ruh-bur-tow.”

I’m sure Roberto appreciates that.

But ancillary legacy is pronouncing English words – or in many cases, Americanized proper names for companies — as if they were Spanish words.

I just can’t help it in my mind when I read the sponsor name – an insurance company - given to the Seattle Mariners’ professional baseball stadium.

“Safeco Field.”

It’s “SAFE-coe.” And that’s the way I say it out loud.

But I doubt there will ever come a time when I don’t hear it in my head as “Sah-FAY-coe.”

Thanks, Coach McIntyre!

You can.

*pause*

“Well go on then, take it off.”

You asked if you could ask me to to take off my baseball cap and I said yes, so go ahead and ask. Then I’ll take it off.

Didn’t “expletive deletive” leave a lot more to the imagination than “f***ing?”

And what’s with those asterisks?  How f***ing pointless are they?  Most kids in the playground have heard that word now, thanks to DVDs and the internet.

It’s time we went back to the old (expletive deleted) way … ?

The sign in the Southeastern part of the United States of America department store.

It’s the way we say it.

I can’t imagine it’s intentional — but it would be pretty cool if it were.

“Are you going to be there?”

“I don’t know, I’m 50/50. But probably.”

Well, isn’t “probably” more than 50-50?

Or maybe at best 51-49?

The other side would be “probably not,” which is trouble because it sounds so less optimistic to the point that  you shouldn’t even offer a percentage.

He ended up coming, as I expected — no thanks to percentages.

“Dad’s gone for a jar.”

I don’t ever recall seeing beer in a jar but my dad still goes for a jar.

Sometimes he goes for a pot. Not “some pot” but “a pot”. Two different things entirely.

And the comma is important, because you could start a first paragraph with, say, “However you do it …”

I guess you could start a story with a quote that starts with “However, ..” — but that’s cheating.

Sent in by J Leader, Exeter, Devon, UK

I’m sorry, but it’s a little more complicated than that.

Insanity is … sitting in a corner lightly humming the Super Mario Bros.  theme song as you try to shoot fire from your hands and instead wipe your own feces all over the wall.

Yes, even that’s more complicated.