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Y’all: A Word By No Other Name
Y’all better hear this correckly the first time, cuz I ain’t about to repeat myself.
Thanks, I got that corn-patch one-liner about high-test Southern gossip from the Gospel of TV variety shows, “Hee-Haw.” Y’all younger kids might not remember it, but ask the older folks. I know they all remember it.
Thanks, I thought y’all would like that.
So, please, now, sit right down, y’all, so y’all hear me straight up. Y’all gonna git it once and for all from the git-go, OK?: How does y’all spell “y’all”?
This is a righteous, most religious, question, mind y’all, with all kinds of serious implications for life in these parts. Stuff like what might it say about how (or if) y’all grew up, where y’all’s people come from, where y’all worship, that kinda thing. I mean, it probably does say a lot about that, maybe even exactly about who y’all are, what y’all do, and maybe even why y’all do it, so let’s think about this, y’all. Come on, now, sit up!
Why is it that today y’all misspell the word “y’all” (that’s y–apostrophe–a–double–l) as “ya’ll” (that’s y–a–apostrophe–double–l)?
It’s the apostrophe. Y’all are puttin’ it too late.
Yes, y’all are! Don’t y’all argue with me!
Please tell me, why y’all go and do that? It’s enough to break a man’s literary ticka’.
I’m an easy-goin’ man, easy to forgive, easy to git along with, but this thing just don’t sit right with me, and hasn’t for a very, very long time.
Obviously. Yes, obviously. I heard that.
Are y’all drawlin’ out the punctation, to poke fun at our lazy tongues?
Is it y’all’s new way of braggin’ about our drawlin’?
Whew, this ventin’ feels good, but wears a man out.
I’m startin’ to feel better now. But, y’all, I’m weak.
Y’all just stay with me, please, brothers.
No, no, no. This is still happenin’.
Not five minutes ago, on this very day, I just saw it misspelt again. This time, on the website of educated, cultured authority, National Public Radio. I guess y’all count on the listenin’ audience of their radio shows to be most forgivin’, regardin’ spellin’ and punctuation and that sorta thing.
Y’all just need to HEAR the story, FEEL the SOUND of the facts, is that right?
Don’t MIND the PRINTED word and what things LOOK like!? That y’all’s style?
Let me clear the t’baccy juice from my throat to be strong-voiced about my passion for proper vocab’lary, sound diction, and correck spellin’ here: The word Y’ALL is an abbreviation for YOU ALL. Our dear Southern-English language ain’t got no other word for it, misspelt or not, so let’s be gentle with what little we got.
I mean we got none other, y’all hear me?
Furthermore, cousins, even the dummies down on the other side of the tracks know this. Y’all know who I’m talkin’ about, so don’t pretend y’all don’t.
I suppose that’s why y’all can’t Google “define y’all” and git anything worth a damn. Y’all know that search engine thing.
Try it, though! Y’all might like it!
But, y’all ain’t gonna git much of nutin’ from any of hit, from my side of the fence.
That Google will just lead y’all into a never-endin’ maze of websites that would send the wittiest of wisest squirrels squirrelin’ ’round and ’round dizzylike within that crocus sack of useless book-sense called the Internets.
Also, contrary to what definition y’all might find on urbandictionary.com, those explanations wouldn’t occupy a kindergartener’s grammar book.
Do y’all feel my pain, sisters?
Again, try it, if y’all must! Y’all might like it! Not for me to have a clear opinion on every single thing in the whole wide web. That’d be too much for this ol’ country man.
But, I don’t suggest y’all visit that there urban website at the office — it could make for trouble for y’all. Trust me (wink).
Whew, this language policin’ is tough work.
I need to go set a spell.
Oh, I already am.
Dang-blame Internets work tires ya out, even settin’ down.
Need a cool, adult beverage to relax the thinkin’ muscles a mite.
Maybe turn on the boob tube.
Ah, there we go again.
Wonder how they handled this y’all business on “Hee Haw”?
I wonder what their cue cards said.
Jesus, that’s what I was afraid of, y’all.
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