Oh...Quite

Authors Note:
Ahem...this blog will contain reference to an ex-spouse. The reference is for illustration purposes only, and in no way meant to demean, belittle or cause fits of giggles and snorts  The occupation discussed is one shared by my much older sister, for whom I have the greatest admiration and respect. The Dane who lived in my basement is in fact .... the Dane who lived in my basement. I mean that in the most literal sense possible - it is not some weird English euphemism designed to be salacious. No woodland creatures were harmed in the writing of this blog entry. If you experience symptoms of overdose or allergic reaction including swelling of face, tightening of throat, nausea or disgust, please stop reading and contact your local emergency services. The numbers are 911 in the US and 999 In the UK. Void where prohibited. 

I use quite in conversation every single day. It is an descriptive enhancer, if you will. We use quite in place of really. "The new portrait is quite stunning" is infinitely more posh sounding than "the new portrait is really stunning". In reality one who overuses really would be more likely to say "that picture is really awesome", but I digress.  The use of quite to emphasize can really get you into trouble over here. Quite in front of a descriptor in England means to a lesser degree,  or mediocre. I first became aware of the negative connotations of quite from the Dane who lived in my basement.

This particular Dane has a better grasp of the English language than most folks for whom English is their primary language. It was not always this way, however. His first adventure in the use of English in conversation caused quite a stir. He was having dinner at a colleague's house in England. Upon being served the traditional roast, no doubt labored and toiled over for hours, he was asked how he was enjoying his repast. He replied eager to show his impeccable mastery of language,  "it is quite nice". This seemingly banal snippet of conversation would garner nods of approval and perhaps an invitation to partake in a second helping in America. Not so much in England. He had basically told his hostess her efforts in the kitchen were okay, or pretty good. The fact that he was allowed to stay and enjoy dessert and coffee is a testament to his  hostess.  The Dane in my basement learned from his experience, and thankfully shared his newfound knowledge with me, so that I could avoid such a grave error whilst visiting England.

Our daughter's history teacher when she attended  middle school is English. He is a brilliant man with a keen sense of humour. My ex-husband had driven the five hundred miles or so to attend a parent-teacher conference with said teacher and my husband and me. We were sitting around a table chit-chatting and getting to know one another. History teacher, Mr. Stick (I have changed his name to protect his innocence),  inquired as to what occupation the ex-husband had. Ex stated he was a band director. Mr. Stick looked genuinely interested and said with excitement "Oh, you direct a symphony orchestra?".  Ex husband - "no, I direct a band". Mr. Stick with growing excitement - no doubt he had visions of the Proms and Land of Hope And Glory -"you mean like Sousa?" Ex-hubbo- "no, I direct a high school band". A much deflated and less interested Mr. Stick replied "Oh. Quite". I had to pinch my husband's leg to keep him from giggling out loud.

I am quite sure I have offended enough folks for one day. I really hope you enjoy my take on life in Merry England. I am quite sure you would love my new home. It is quite nice.