The Queen's English

Ann, of the “At Home With Ann” blog, mentioned in a recent post that she is planning a trip to Florida in the next couple of weeks. In a follow-up postscript, she added if any of her blog visitors lived in Florida or would be visiting Disney while she was there, she would love to meet up with them.

As much as I would like to be able to take Ann up on her invitation, it is not possible. The thoughts of Disney World and Ann, being British, coming there did, however, spark a particular memory for me…an extremely pleasurable one.

You see, way back in 1982, the very month that Disney opened the Epcot Center, my friends Darryl & Jane invited me to go with them and their kids (Aaron and Kevin) on a trip to “experience” Disney the way it should be. I mean, I had been before, but to them…a trip to Disney World was more than a mere vacation…it was – and still is to this day – a true “event.”

Darryl planned out the itinerary weeks in advance…the Disney hotel where we would stay, where we would eat, which “land” we would visit first, etc., etc. Pretty much, all we talked about in the van during our drive down to Florida was where we were going to eat, “what” we were going to eat, and what we were going to do when we got there. Conversely, pretty much all we talked about on the way back was what we did, what we ate… Well, you get the idea.

Late one afternoon, near the end of our vacation, Darryl & Jane and the kids and I all climbed inside the monorail outside our hotel. My friends were taking their kids to the “Magic Kingdom” for the evening while I had decided to go walk around Epcot for a while. Well, when Darryl & Jane exited the monorail, eight women crammed inside the car to join me.

They were laughing and talking and giggling and having a grand old time. Once they had settled themselves and the monorail had started up again, one of the ladies looked at me and in a booming, cheerful voice said, “We’re eight merry widows from England.” (You need to say that out loud in your best British accent because that is how I always say it whenever I tell this story to anyone.) And that is how it all began…the absolute best two minutes…if that…of my life.

They all started talking to me…almost in unison. Now, it’s been almost twenty-six years, so I do not truly recall the "particulars" of the conversation…merely that…considering we all spoke…supposedly…the same language, these ladies spoke an entirely different version of English than did I…and visa versa. I had the best time in those scant moments, trying to answer their questions…and they likewise…in a manner we could all understand. It was great fun and ended all too soon when the monorail came to a stop at my destination.

It was the briefest of encounters and yet it is a memory that has stayed with me all these years…one I think of with great fondness and one that always makes me smile a bit whimsically. To this day, I wish I had abandoned my own plans and foisted myself on these “eight merry widows from England” for the evening. I can only imagine the stories I would have been able to tell now. That is…if I could have deciphered their particular brand of English…and visa versa.

If I ever build a time machine…that’s one of the first places I want to revisit.

And to Ann, if you happen upon this, I hope your journey to the States is a safe and thoroughly enjoyable one.