Cummerbund

Jenn and I ate lunch this afternoon at the delightful European bakery, Jacbo. She had her usual chicken salad and croissant and I had a lovely spinach salad and some warm spinach quiche. Both wonderful, comforting meals on a bright, clear, cold Winter’s day.

After lunch I dropped her off at Williams Street and made my way back to Techwood, listening to my usual AM preset, 790 The Zone. A caller phoned in to answer the “know your show” question concerning Jim Mora. It seems the Atlanta Falcons head coach had once worn a white tuxedo with a pink cummerbund to woo his then-girlfriend, now his wife.

In and of itself, this is a reasonably amusing anecdote. Add to this story the fact that the dunce on the other end of the phone uttered the oft-mistaken mispronunciation “cumberbun” over the radio and it really caught my attention. I’m soaking in it. Why this particular malapropism causes me such emotional distress, I have no idea. But if I had to suffer, so do you.

Is there anyone out there with a college degree who still gets this word wrong? I realize that I may have had more opportunities than most to say the word, having been a band AND chorus geek in years past (and having to wear the glorified girdles more times than I care to recount), but come on. Cumberbun? What was this guy thinking?

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