Semper fi, y'all

Speaking of TV, as I was yesterday, a colleague of mine commented about a remark he made last weekend to his son, who went off to boot camp at Parris Island on Monday. Here’s what he said:

“I made a passing comedic reference to Gomer Pyle, USMC, and Chris was horrified. Say 'Gomer Pyle' to him and he thinks of the recruit who kills his drill instructor in Full Metal Jacket. He didn’t know where the character's nickname came from. Clearly I did not subject my children to enough re-runs.”

And all of a sudden I thought about all the times I’ve first encountered some man-made marvel—Galeries Lafayette, downtown Chicago, “The Raft of the Medusa”, the multi-product single-push soda dispenser—I just stood there slack-jawed and muttered, “Well, gawlll-LEE!”

Don't make me no never-mind that I have a master of arts from a stellar institution of higher learning. In Virginia.

I am also wont to chirp brightly—when some entirely predictable but unaccountably unplanned-for cataclysm befalls a project at work—“Su-PRISE, su-PRISE!”

I’m sure this endears me to my colleagues.

So perhaps it’s just as well that Chris doesn’t have the Gomer Pyle vocabulary; at least while he’s in boot camp.