Pablo8 wrote:
Perhaps our 'Cousins in USA could clarify for this Brit'.... I often see the word Leery used and it appears to be in the context (I'm guessing here) of being aware that some photographic item should be treated with caution, as it might not be that good. In the UK, we (That is the Royal We) would comment that one should be ...'Wary' of that item. Do we both mean the same thing) I still feel that this is a major Photographic interest, and not just 'Chit-Chat'. "Have a nice day", as the saying goes!!
Perhaps our 'Cousins in USA could clarify for thi... (
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Leery and wary mean about the same things to me, and I use them interchangeably. From the dictionary on my Mac:
leery |ˈli(ə)rē|
adjective (leerier, leeriest) informal
cautious or wary due to realistic suspicions: a city leery of gang violence.
Funny thing is, unless you never travel outside your local community, or never watch TV, movies, or stage plays, or read, you probably have heard and read enough variations on your own language to understand the colloquial and regional terms and usages. I was born in the Midwest (Michigan), and moved South at age 5 (North Carolina). I moved to South Carolina at 12. Each has a different regional accent set, dialect, and a VERY different pot of colloquialisms. Yet it's all (American) English.
Americans see a lot of Australian and British television on our Public Broadcasting System. My wife and I watch several of these "foreign" shows each week. She majored in English, and I minored in it in college, so we've internalized a lot of the word choices and phrasing from those countries, as we had to read some of their literature. Listening to another accent or dialect is second nature.
English is a huge melting pot of words, with countless word origins and evolutions of concepts. Yet we all seem to understand most of what others are saying, whether we're from the UK, USA, Australia, India, Canada... and only occasionally do we need to inquire about a word choice or regional spelling. It wasn't always that way.
When I was in college in the early 1970s, I worked two summers for a British company that manufactured textile machinery. They had just bought the company my Dad worked for, and I had a summer job there, repairing and retrofitting some of the British machines in a mill in an isolated town in South Carolina.
In our work group, we had the local mill "fixers," (mechanics) who were descendants of Irish potato famine escapees (1845-1852). Most of them rarely ventured outside their own community. We had a few Brits, from Accrington and Oldham, England (also mechanics). We had an Indian technician (mechanic) from New Delhi, via Accrington.
I became sort of the translator. I quickly figured out that the Brits and the Indian could not understand the locals, because they all used different words that meant the same things. But they could all understand me! "Ah dowah lak that; 'and me that spannah" (British working class brogue) became "Gimme dat dare wree-unch!" (SC redneck twang). Of course, both meant, "Please hand me that wrench, sir."
Several times a day, I would help them "understand" each other, because I could listen to each dialect and make sense of it, asking questions to clarify if needed.
Of course, behind their initial inability to understand each other was an undercurrent of mistrust and dislike. The locals were used to American machines that had lasted 70 to 100 years with very little maintenance. The Brits had a different philosophy of machine manufacturing... Make the lowest cost machine, to get the sale, and make their money by selling a never-ending stream of high-priced replacement parts. The mill owners had sued our company for performance misrepresentation and won, and we were working out the terms of the settlement... We were there to retrofit better-made American parts onto the open-end spinning frames. By the end of the summer, machines were working better, and the crew were understanding each other — even joking about their language differences and comparing speech patterns at lunch.