Out of the night,
When the full moon is bright,
Comes the horseman known as Zorro!
Actually I live in a large hacienda outside Los Angeles. I am originally of aristocratic Castilian stock, but in my other secret incarnation as Zorro, I fight the wicked Spanish colonial government to protect the downtrodden peons. And as a result, I speak English rather like Errol Flynn, despite being surrounded by people who speak like Cheech Marin.
Zorro, Zorro, the fox so cunning and free,
Zorro, Zorro, who makes the sign of the Z!
Of course, that’s a terrible lyric because in my strange English “dialect”, “Z” doesn’t rhyme with “free”, it rhymes with “Red” or “dead”.
I suspect that the confusion as to what the bloody hell I’m going on about stems from my unfortunate original choice of the word “ear”. Forget the "ear thing, just drop it, it was a bad idea. Then of course there is the fact that most (most, I said most, so I don’t want a deluge of people quoting themselves to point out that they were right) of you are familiar with American English rather that British English, that most of you are only familiar with French as a foreign language, that at least one of the native French speakers here is from Québec which doesn’t help, that people have been reading French words in phonetic English, English words in phonetic French, all the variations thereof, and that all the British participants must be Essex wideboys or Cockney sparrahs or something.
Right, my cultural, ethnic and ensuing linguistic background:
I am half French, half British. I have spoken both languages all my life, fluently, meaning that I have two mother tongues (OK, so one’s a father tongue, but that isn’t a valid expression). My French side is from Alsace (Eastern France, along the Rhine, where choucroute garnie, Kronenbourg, the big dogs like Rin Tin Tin and the Littlest Hobo, and Gewurztraminer come from - and Californian winemakers can sod off). My English side is from nowhere in particular, as they’re not that big on regional identity in the UK. Well, some regions are but it’s not as common a phenomenon as in France, especially Alsace where we’re just a bunch of complete chauvinists.
And so here’s what I sound like: my French is just standard French French (to distinguish from Québec French, in case those guys pipe up again), with a very slight tinge of an Alsace accent on occasion (just the odd longer than average vowel). My English is pretty much BBC Radio 4 newsreader. I’ll leave it to the other Brits to explain this to any Americans who are unclear as to what I’m talking about.
And once again, I must stress the importance of forgetting all about the “ear” thing.
Un cavalier qui surgit hors de la nuit
court vers l’aventure au galop
Son nom, il le signe à la pointe de l’épée
d’un Z qui veut dire Zorro!