Arrr ye ready to be boarded, me hearties?

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Aaron Ives / Winnipeg Free Press Doug Speirs (WINNIPEG FREE PRESS) Photo Store

Other than my birthday, Grey Cup Sunday and the day they start selling those mini-doughnuts at the Red River Ex, today is my favourite day of the year.

That's because today, as if you didn't already know, is International Talk Like a Pirate Day, the annual day on which jolly men with beards hand out presents and everyone feels a sense of peace, joy and goodwill toward their fellow man.

No, sorry, that's Christmas. International Talk Like a Pirate Day, held every Sept. 19, is the day on which -- and you won't have seen this coming -- would-be buccaneers around the world celebrate by talking like pirates.

Assuming you are sane, you are probably asking yourself why anyone would want to talk like a pirate. If that's the case, I'm guessing you are what we newspaper professionals refer to as "a woman." Setting aside a day to talk like a pirate -- and this is the 10th anniversary -- is one of those critical social issues that tends to divide readers along gender lines as follows:

Typical male reaction: "ARRRRRRRRRR!!!"

Typical female reaction: "Really? What kind of (naughty word) idiot are you?"

According to the official website, this event was dreamed up in 1995, when two American geniuses named John Baur and Mark Summers were playing a rousing game of racquetball and, being guys, suddenly started hollering encouragement at one another ("That be a fine cannonade!") in pirate slang.

Naturally, the next step was to designate a day -- Sept. 19 because it happens to be Summers' ex-wife's birthday, plus it doesn't conflict "with Christmas or the Super Bowl or something" -- when everyone could (why not?) talk like a pirate.

The concept gained its sea legs in 2002 when my personal hero, Pulitzer Prize-winning humour columnist and part-time pirate Dave Barry, got on board as a kind of national spokesman.

There are many excellent reasons to talk like a pirate. Pirates, with their pouffy shirts and doubloons and cutlasses, are romantic and a little bit dangerous, whereas you with your ketchup-stained tie and office cubicle are, let's face it, a bit of a dweeb, or, as we pirates like to say, "Thou'rt run aground in addle cove, chowder head."

I personally have dressed as a Prairie pirate more times than I can shake my hook at, including last Halloween, when this newspaper held a contest in which readers were asked to vote on which costume I would have to wear to Boo at the Zoo.

Fortunately for me, you swabbies made the Elvis costume walk the plank and decided I should be a swarthy pirate captain in a bejewelled vest, sequined coat with lace sleeves, tricorne hat and knee-high leather boots. It was pretty awesome. The highlight of the night came when I confronted a six-year-old trick-or-treater, who was dressed as a pirate and carrying a tiny plastic sword and figured I should fork over me pirate booty, by which I mean candy.

"HAVE AT THEE!" I snorted, waggling my own cutlass.

Which prompted the pint-sized pirate, who came up to my shins, to thrust his toy sword in an upward motion, thereby keelhauling the pirate captain in a medically sensitive area, if you catch me nautical drift, me buckos.

But that's in the past, me hearties. What Cap'n Doug orders you to do today is embrace talking like a pirate and turn boring everyday interactions into swashbuckling adventures. For example, try ordering your coffee like a scurvy bilge rat:

Server: "May I take your order, sir?"

You: "Ahoy, lubber, sling me a jorum of java and make it sweet as love and dark as the night and bring it smartly!"

Server: "???"

You: "Snap to it, dimsel wit. Ye're thick as a mizzenmast! And fetch some throatsome victuals for me stomach worm is gnawing something fierce."

Imagine how impressed everyone will be if you make your first sales call as a true gentleman o' fortune:

Receptionist: "Good morning. How can I help you?"

You: "Arrrr, I like the cut of yer jib, lass, prepare to be boarded!"

Receptionist: "I beg your pardon ..."

You: "Shiver me timbers, wench. That be some treasure chest ye've got."

Receptionist: "SECURITY!"

So we can see talking like a pirate is a smart business decision, especially in today's cutthroat economy.

In other words: "Look lively, Plank Shank, there be a veritable plague o' picaroons seekin' to deprive us of our sundry trinkets and gewgaws!"

And that's straight from the heart, ye grog-snarfing sea bass!

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition September 19, 2012 A2