Words Are People Too

Occasionally think I should learn another language. This is usually after feeling embarrassed when I meet someone from another country who is fluent in seven different languages (not counting Vulcan and Elvish).

I did take a full year of French in high school, although the second half was more about the culture (literature, art, cooking etc.) than the language. This was because we pressured the first-year teacher to give us a break from learning the difference between the masculine (la) and feminine (le) – or was/is it the other way around?

But whenever I start to get serious about twisting my tongue around another language, I realize that the English language is often so complicated that it may be enough just to master it (I’m confining my comments to the spoken word as the body of evidence against any claim of me being proficient in writing English is vast and growing).

Slang words come and go – although some words, such as “cool,” survive. My gripe (and I have many) is with people who borrow or change the meaning of words to conceal the truth or mislead their audience. Using words as if they were made of Spandex, they tug and stretch them as they pull the wool over. Except the word, if stretched too often, can no longer be returned to its original shape and we are forced to tell the borrowers, “No thank you, you can keep it.”

Taxes are now referred to as “investments,” not adhering to a scheduled increase in spending is called a “cut,” and “shovel ready projects” may only exist in a fantasy world of political speeches. Clearly the government is guilty of misusing words and definitions, but it is not alone.

Abraham Lincoln is said to have asked one day, “If you call a tail a leg, how many legs has a dog? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it a leg.”

I recently met a woman who had two dogs with presumably eight legs between them, but that wasn’t enough for her. She wanted her dogs to be more than dogs. Shortly into our time together our conversation took an odd turn.

“So do you have any children?” I asked her, after she spoke of her husband and their home.

“No, our dogs are our children.”

I had not heard that answer before so I considered a few inappropriate responses: You must be so proud, any grandchildren? How about pet fish, what do you think they are? We don’t have any dogs, our kids are our dogs.

But I just nodded politely with my tongue firmly trapped between my teeth. I understand she may not have children because of some reason (which is none of my business), and I am not going to get into a discussion about adoption. You can if you like, it’s your choice. But my point is that referring to dogs as kids, doesn’t make it so. We need to be clear on that.

Dennis Prager, a clear thinker, stresses “clarity over agreement.” My friend Bob says “you can disagree without being disagreeable.”

I want to be clear, but sarcasm can get in the way so I often find myself being disagreeable without actually disagreeing. So the woman with unattractive, four-legged children has opened up a whole new world for me. I am now considering all sorts of responses to normal questions.

Some weather huh? Oh, I don’t mind, it’s always sunny and warm in my world.

What do you do for work? My life is my work.

Was Santa good to you? I was good to Santa.

Do you live around here? I like to live in the present.

Do you speak any other languages? No, I am still trying to understand English.