Yarr.... it be that time o' the year, matey....

Arrrr! Today be talk like a pirate day. Much thanks to Mama Janet fer pointin out the fact, or I probably would have forgotten it, like the landlubber I am.

As many of you are frightfully aware, tis my tradition t'tell a funny or interestin' story from my briny past in the style of a pirate on this happiest of days...

This one be the tale of a devil of a storm called Gustav, which caused me and mine t'run fer the hills lest we be sent to the bottom of Davey Jones' locker. Durin our voyage into the heart of Mississippi, me beauty, (Silverfox), and our boy, (Short Stuff) were fallin victim to a sense of dread that only sailors feel as they leave port fer the last time.

To take their minds off of our perdicament, I told them to think "EGBAR".

"Egbar?" Me beauty asked, never hearing the term before, "What in the seven seas is egbar?"

"Tis an acronym, my sweet." I said, "Stands fer 'Everything is Gonna Be All Right'. Egbar!"

"Egbar!" Short Stuff shouted from the back seat in a merry voice.

"Egbar!" Silverfox agreed. And so we drove on inta the night.

Twas a longer voyage than we had figured to get to safe harbor that night, and as fatigue began to wrap its scurvey arms around me, I got snippy with Silverfox (about something that was of no consequence, no less) and we began to argue. We were glaring at each other when Short stuff piped up from the back seat:

"Mom! Dad! Egbar!"

Yar... we both smiled at each other and laughed, the fog lifting from our hearts like a calm morning on the north atlantic. The boy spoke the wisdom of an old salt...

Next time ye be under stress with you and yours, take a lesson from the child, and remind yerself that Everything is Gonna Be All Right... for years from now, you and yer mates will be drinking rum and singing shantys about that day.

Now... all together... Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Multiple languages, and perfect for "talk like a pirate day"...



or, for you old traditionalists...