Brought to you by "Ceviche"

You can be educated and still be limited. This is particularly true if you are self-educated. Much of my learning is based on personal reading. I hear things in my head when I read, but I’m no better than my imagination.

My imagination is pretty darn good. It’s really my supposition of pronunciation that’s at fault. That and autocorrect.

 You know about autocorrect, right? It’s the programmed thoughtfulness of machines to anticipate our needs when we’re typing. It’s a piece of artificial intelligence. Autocorrect suggests words so we can communicate faster. It corrects our spelling, to help us save face. In the right hands, it’s a tool for good. Mine are not the right hands.

 Just today, I received a text from my wife telling me we were having Tostada Giveche for dinner. I’m not incredibly well versed in fine dining. That’s to say that I accept my ignorance. I have blank spots in my knowledge. Giveche looked good to me. Here’s what I didn’t know.

 Giveche does not exist. Google it.

Before you even look at the possibilities, Google asks, “Did you mean: Givenchy”? Nope. No I didn’t.

“Next up, GIVE – ChE” followed by “I give Che Whyte a big hug”, an animated YouTube offering. We’re still no closer to an answer.

So, not only does Giveche not exist, it’s not pronounced “Giv – esh’”. To my chagrin.

 As soon as I saw my wife’s post, my inner child reacted. You should meet my inner child. He’s a smart-aleck, a punster, and endearingly annoying. He’s also spoiled. Far too often, he gets to operate with little or no supervision. Giveche was a golden opportunity.

 He –-- I was standing nearby, but this was all him --– responded to my wife that he’d intended to take her out to dinner, but “… let’s Tostada Giveche it. Too many people don’t Giveche it.”

Not long afterward, I showed the exchange to my co-worker and she said, “Oh. Ceviche.” Well, shoot. Bubble burst. Not only had autocorrect helped misspell it, it didn’t even sound the same.

 “Se – Vee’ – Che” Runny yellow yolk was dripping from my face. I’m supposed to be “the word guy” and I completely botched this one. My bumbling wordplay was ruined. Folks who knew their fish were scratching their heads wondering what I was going on about. Frankly, I’m with them. This is what happens when you let your inner kid run amok and you fail to do your research.

 And you know what? I guaran-darn-tee you it’s going to happen again. I’m kind of looking forward to it.

Ceviche, y’all!