Bagel of Doubt

That's what I thought I heard said this morning on a perfectly ordinary radio commercial. I have already forgotten what was being flacked, but I will never forget this phrase.

I have spoken before in these pages of my peculiar connection to some commercials. But I haven't divulged all my peculiarities with respect to the interaction between various media and my head.

What happens is, I frequently hear an important phrase or term differently than intended (i.e., WRONG). It's the Pompitous of Love syndrome (a malady not to be confused with the 1996 movie of the same name but different spelling).

Like all conditions, this one has its merits. I mean, some writers would kill for a phrase like "bagel of doubt." It's so evocative for that, uh, bready but empty-in-the-middle feeling of, uh, doubt.

Anyway.

The best mis-hearing I ever committed was a few years ago when, wakened from a dead sleep by the radio blaring one of its conventional truck-jackknifed traffic stories, I could have sworn I heard the announcer caution that "the brie is scattered across the roadway."



(graphic via toothepaste for dinner)