An Open Letter

Inauguration post coming soon, promise. In the meantime, a brief open letter.

Dear practically every sports announcer in the country:

Hi, how are you? Sleep well? Enjoy your free dinner*?

I just wanted to write this quick note to let you all know that it is pronounced Hans-BRO, not Hans-BORO. No, really, it is that simple.

And while Tyler is such a good guy that he is probably just happy ya'll are saying his name at all, I'm not such a nice girl. As someone with an alarmingly easy last name that is routinely murdered, I get very defensive at what some may perceive as a cavalier attitude toward vowels and basic reading comprehension.

So please, just take that extra half second as you discuss last year's across-the-board National Player of the Year. Think twice about adding that extra syllable as you announce the name of the all-time leading scorer for one of the country's greatest college basketball powerhouses. You know, that same powerhouse where his jersey will soon hang in the rafters, reading HANSBROUGH, NOT HANSBOROUGH.

I write this to you not only as a fan of proper speech, but also, not surprisingly, as a devoted Tar Heel who has been listening to ya'll get it wrong for four years. "Tar Heel Dead" isn't just how we refer to ourselves in the afterlife; it's also what we can do to you if you repeatedly piss us off. (Yes, I'm looking at you, Vitale.)

Have a nice day!

Sincerely,
Carolina Girl '06

P.S. - Just in case you were worried, there's a lot of other stuff ya'll do that angers me, but we won tonite, so I'm in a good mood.

*According to my reporting professor in journalism school: "There's no such thing as a free dinner in journalism. Unless you are a sports reporter."

Day 290: It pays to complain

I develop overly strong attachments to certain drink and food items. And these often end up being the so-called "seasonal" items that are only available certain months of the year, for no apparent reason other than to have me clump a year's worth of purchases into a 3 month period. (And royally piss me off, of course.) When I went to Cosi today with the intent to finally get a meatball sandwich that has been off their menu since May, I was told it was "gone, no more." I was quite upset but got another, far more inferior sandwich anyway, and whilst eating it wrote an email all but begging them to put it on the menu.
I've been threatening to do this to Bojangles for years in protest of their delectable cinnamon biscuits only being available in western NC, but have yet to do it, so this is my first letter to a restaurant demanding the return of a favorite food item.

And lo and behold, the next day I got a response! Thus, come November 4, I will either be celebrating a certain candidate's victory with a warm, meatball aurora, or crying into my basil and provolone.
I think it's time to have a chat with Bojangles now...