Tales of our Times: A Radical Safety Measure

By Didi Gorman 

Folks, I’ve been thinking about it long and hard recently and I think I’ve found one of the main culprits in the spread of this never-ending virus.

It’s the letter D.

That’s right. Think about it for a second. ‘D’ is a sputtery sound and, given what we know about virus transmission through speech, we should really stop using it.

I therefore call for an immediate ban on the letter D!

Fellow citizens, allow me to propose a safer option: the letter N.

Under my new legislation, all Ds will be replaced with Ns.

I can feel you’re not convinced, though. Perhaps you need a little nudge to snap you out of your hesitation. No problem. Let’s conduct a quick experiment. We’ll test the two letters in real time. Before we start, position yourself at a safe distance from anyone else. We don’t want to turn this into a super spreader event.

Ready?

Put the palm of your hand close to your mouth and say ‘da, da, da, da’ WITHOUT SPITTLING. Not so easy now, is it? Repeat the experiment with ‘na, na, na, na’. Much better, eh? There you go. I rest my case. From now on, therefore, instead of saying, “Didi, your idea is absurd,” say, “Nini, your inea is absurn.” Instead of asking, “Which day is it today? Saturday or Tuesday?” ask, “Which nay is it tonay? Saturnay or Tuesnay?”

Good. We’re getting better at it.

The question remains, though, how do we deal with those folks who, even after our experiment, still insist on pronouncing the ‘letter-which-shall-not-be-named’? Do we send the police after them? Do we bring in the armed forces?

I’ll respond to that with a D-free answer: “This is a real nilemma but I have no noubt we’ll come up with a speeny solution.”

Anyway.

I’d like to take this opportunity to address several members of my family who, unfortunately, bear the fourth letter of the alphabet in their names. Cousins Debby, Derek, and David: Starting today, you shall be renamed Cousins Nebby, Nerek, and Navin. I know you’ll be making a sacrifice but you’ll be doing it for the greater common good. (As a side note, according to our new language law, the last four words should read ‘the greater common goon’, but never mind.)

So, there. My proposal in a nutshell.

Oh, sorry. How could I have forgotten?

My dearest, dearest daddy: I hope you’re okay becoming my ‘nearest, nearest nanny’?