As it should be of course. The bloke who comes around to put in acoustic glass for our windows calls me “Lord”.
Although, you know, not quite. Mr., in Porkandcheese, is Signor. Clearly the same root word as Seigneur, which can indeed mean “Lord” of a type, in that Channel Islands Norman French version of something like English.
But the translate bit in Google Mail which the window maker and I use to converse with each other translates “Signor” directly into “Lord” not “Mr.” or even “Sir” which might be closer.
Not as in Sir Tim, but as in esteemed customer, Sir, type.
Yes, I know, a nothing, but just one of those little details of life which amuses.
So not Don Worstallione then?
If Portuguese* is anything like Spanish, Signor is also God. So maybe you’re underselling yourself here.
*Portuguese portuguese. I get the brasilian version here. And listen to prayers for divine intervention daily.
French Monsieur (shortened from Mon Seigneur), Italian Signore, Spanish Señor, and Portuguese Senhor derive directly from Latin Seniorem… meaning elder, senior.
English Lord, from Old English Hläford meaning ‘bread-keeper’, usually given to a chieftain being the person who guarded the food and dispensed it.
So… old git in Romance languages, person of rank and status in English.
“Oh God… Oh God…. Oh God…..”?
Has the acoustic glass actually sorted out your pretty severe noise pollution problem?
I read that as “widow maker” and wondered why you had a gun that called you “Lord”.
It’s a lot better. About a 20 decibel drop.
The lockdown and all the bars being closed has worked much better.
And then there’s a bloke installing a posh restaurant in the building we’re in. Who is a mate with the Mayor. Who might well have the pull to get the other people to start obeying the law. Hey, Latin solutions…..
I have a suit-maker, who sometimes calls me ‘sir’, and a water bailiff who does little but grunt in the direction of London clay. But, candidly, anyone with a window-maker probably deserves to be called ‘lord’. Or ‘neolibrul troll’.
My window cleaner spent several years calling me “Wilf”. God knows why.
No, BiW
That would be “Oh Deus. Oh Deus Oh Deus “
When I was dealing with French businesses (over 20 years ago, so maybe the advent of email has brought this to an end) they wrote their letters in a wonderfully florid style (even your local garage telling you your next service was due) – rather like Edwardian English. The local equivalent of:
“We beg to assure you, esteemed sirs, of our best attentions at all times”
would have been considered a rather curt and abrupt way to end a letter.
I can remember when NHS nurses were ordered to address patients in the patients’ preferred style.
“What would you like to be called, love?”
“I’d like to be called Sir Walter.”
“All right, darling.”