Uvula

Back in the olden days, when the Sun was slightly cooler and the Universe a fraction smaller, I lived in Virginia. At the time (and apparently still today), for a little extra money you could purchase a “vanity” car license plate, with up to seven letters on it. I like this idea, and it’s sometimes fun to try to figure out what other people’s plates mean.

As a bit of silliness, I decided to get UVULA, because why not? I happen to have one, and you probably do too, and I used to (and apparently still today) like to do things just because they’re off-kilter and weird.

So I filled out the form at the DMV, submitted it, and waited. After a few days I got a letter in the mail telling me my request was denied. No reason was given. Now, I happen to know that if the plate you wanted was already taken, they’d tell you (that happened to me once). So why did they refuse me?

To this day, I don’t know. But I have my suspicions. Despite its latitude, Virginia still thinks of itself as a southern state, and a genteel one. I strongly suspect someone at the DMV was confusing a uvula with a vulva, and denied me on the grounds of their own mistaken prurient metathesis.

Ah well. I went with another plate idea, and never looked back.

I’m reminded of all this because my friend, Hank Green — who himself, I presume, has a uvula — just made a SciShow episode about the dangly little throat projection. I have to admit I was never an expert on such things, but I was still surprised at the versatile little appendage and the multiple roles it plays in the back of the mouth.

So there you go. I suppose it’s easy to belittle the uvula, but you do so at your own risk. I’ll personally never downplay it again.

Oh — as for my license plate dilemma, I finally settled on one that befit my greenish streamlined Datsun B210: KLINGON. You can make fun of me if you want, but it was the envy of the Old Dominion. I stopped at a red light once, and a guy pulled up next to me. He caught my eye and said, “I wanted KLINGON but they told me it was taken!”

I laughed, yelled “Q’Plah!”, and drove away. In my rear view window I could see his mouth hanging open, but sadly I couldn’t see his uvula myself.

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