Today my
wife and daughter are touring the famous Palace of Versailles while I try to
fix the aerator pump in our septic tank. But that’s okay, at least I’m not
cutting the brush that obscures our potty pond, which is the ultimate
destination of the “effluent” which is currently not being aerated.
The Palace
of Versailles, in case you’ve never watched Madeline,
is the historic center of French Government. It was perhaps in its heyday prior
to the French Revolution of the late 18th Century. It was also the site of the signing of the famous
Treaty of Versailles, which outlined the terms of the armistice for World War
I.
The Palace
of Versailles, or more aptly Chateau De
Versailles, is located in the once-remote-but-now suburban (Paris)
community of Versailles. I state this fact to draw attention to the lack of sense
shown by the French in employing the common Osage River Valley dialect of the
English language when naming buildings and cities.
You see, as
a Missourian, I am very familiar with the correct pronunciation of any town
which may be spelled V-E-R-S-A-I-L-L-E-S.
Clearly, it would be Vur-SALES,
as in the county seat of Morgan County near the beautiful Lake of the Ozarks.
But the
pretentious French get this wrong in their own backyard. They pronounce the
palace and town as Vur-SI, and in so
doing provide we Missourians a grave disservice. But we here in The Show Me
State don’t buy into all that mumbo jumbo. We realize calling Vur-SALES, Vur-SI, is like me calling my septic tank Pepé Le Pew.
Not that Versailles, Missouri in any way should be compared to a septic
tank. It is a very fine community, and an extremely enjoyable gateway to the
Lake of the Ozarks. As I recall, the community has a very fine golf course
located on Missouri Route 5 north of town. If memory serves I birdied hole
number 3 there in 1982. But memory does not often serve.
Versailles used to be home to a Ticonderoga pencil factory. Ticonderoga,
if you recall from your 2nd Grade Scooby Doo Schoolbox, made the
very functional Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil. It also made the Ticonderoga No. 3,
which in my view was not at all an improvement on the Ticonderoga No. 2 as it
would always break and would not present crisp lettering when writing a note to
“your neighbor.” And besides, the No. 3 was never “specced” in the School
Supplies Advisory published each August in the newspaper. So if your mom bought you No. 3s instead of
No. 2s you’d probably be in big, big, trouble.
But I digress. The real reason the Ticonderoga factory closed in 2005 was
that the Dixon-Ticonderoga plant was purchased by the Italian conglomerate
Fila. And, as with any Italian conglomerate, they can’t get passed losing World
War II. They keep saying stuff like “The Axis will rise again” and “Long Live
Benito” and they go to closing plants they own in any town that appears to have a French name. The whole plant closure thing
was just a bad case of mistaken identity and the good people of Versailles
(Missouri) suffered because of it.
But in fairness, we Missourians have not always gotten it right when
trying to name things after something legitimately French. A good example
would be Lake Pomme de Terre. This is another beautiful lake in Southwest
Missouri not far from the nice little bergs of Wheatland and Hermitage. The
name absolutely flows from the lips,
whether or not one utilizes his native Osage River Valley dialect or the actual
French.
But I’m not sure we did our homework on this one. Pomme de Terre means
Apple (Pomme) of the Earth (Terre). So far, so good. But the bad news is the
“apple of the earth” is, well, a potato. So the next time you’re fishing or
skiing or otherwise recreating on Lake Pomme de Terre you need to realize
you’re really just on something called Potato
Lake. Somehow I don’t think the Chamber of Commerce down there is going to
latch onto that one.
I suppose
visiting France is a fine way to pass the time if you have nothing to fix or
aerate. And, I’m sure Versailles and the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre are the
European equivalents of the cool stuff to visit here like Silver Dollar
City.
However, I
believe one can experience French, near-French, or French Wannabe culture right
here in the Show Me State. Beyond Versailles, there are the Missouri towns of
Paris and Bonne Terre and Desloge and Bois D’Arc (means Hedgeapple-go figure)
and Ste. Genevieve. And if that’s not enough you can float the Robidoux Creek
or snag paddlefish (a/k/a “spoonbill”) on the Marais des Cygnes. Who wants to
endure the jetlag when all these enchanting places beckon from among our own
backyard?
In closing,
and in the spirit of Madeline, I’ll
just say this: “That's all there is; there isn't any more.”
Vive La
Ticonderoga! And Vive Pepe’ Le Pew!
Great take on pronouncing city names, etc. I was just talking to a friend a couple days ago about that. Keep writing. I'm following you now. Oh, that sounds like I'm stalking. Noooooo!
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