Banned Words and Phrases for 2016

January heralds the publication of annual lists of banned words and phrases. I began collecting candidates for this, my fifth compilation, early last year. Several of my selections usually show up on more widely circulated lists. Even though 2015 was like no other year, I’m sure there will be some consensus entries. Take for instance, my first one.

No matter what your political inclinations, you must be tired of hearing the word ‘Trumpism.’ I’m also tired of hearing the actual Trumpisms, but that’s a whole other issue. If The Donald is elected President in November, you can expect several Trumpisms to appear on my 2017 list. Until then, let’s just jettison the word itself.

We have The Donald to thank for my second banned term as well. Please spare me the verb ‘cherish,’ especially if you’re talking about women. This word has a noble history, but it’s become tarnished by the way it’s been used in the 2015 political season. If you’ve named one of your offspring ‘Cherish,’ feel free to continue to use it when referring to her. Unless her last name is Trump. Or your name is Donald. In which case, please refer to her as Cher.

Next is one I can’t believe I haven’t banned sooner: ‘whatever.’ I was so sure this would be a repeat that I read all my previous lists twice. Note that ‘whatever’ is off-limits only when the word stands alone as a dismissive comment on something someone else has said. If it’s part of an expression, you can continue to use it. Unless that phrase is “Whatever you say” or “Whatever you want.” Those would be a coward’s way of getting around my restriction and are likewise taboo.

A related phrase is: ‘It’s all good.’ I can’t recall what brought this to my attention, but as soon as I heard it, I knew it was joining my collection. Where ‘whatever’ implies you don’t give a fig about what was just said, ‘It’s all good’ tells us you have virtually no power of discrimination about the world around you. Whatever.

Here’s another that I’ve finally had enough of and had to check to be sure it wasn’t a repeat: ‘surreal.’ Just listen for a few minutes to some interviews with celebrities who are under age fifty and you’ll get why I’ve tossed this one. Like ‘cherish,’ ‘surreal’ has a noble history, especially in early 20^th century art, but it’s still ta-ta (not to be confused with dada). Though we can’t blame Trump for ruining this word, we can’t refer to his campaign as ‘surreal’ anymore. Not to worry. We still have ‘bizarre.’

My next entry has several meanings, and I’m banning all of them. I think of ‘hack’ first as a verb, as in the breaching of technology—credit cards stolen, identities compromised. Then I think of someone who is inept at his job (perhaps because he allowed a breach?) Apparently “hack” now has a common misuse as a noun, meaning a tip or short-cut for doing something more easily. Anyway you slice it, it’s a word we can live without.

We can thank Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin for getting ‘conscious uncoupling’ kicked out this year, though they uncoupled last year, at least consciously. The phrase made my 2016 list because psychotherapists and marriage counselors around the globe have decided this is a great concept to peddle in their practices. It also begs the question: what is unconscious uncoupling?

The rock star of Roman Catholicism, Pope Francis, provided the banned phrase: ‘simplistic reductionism.’ Microsoft Word helps us convert this to “simpleminded over-simplification.” While I applaud the idea of reducing the complexities of life, the Pope’s expression concerns me. To be fair, His Holiness was cautioning against holding to extremes of good and evil, but folks have a way of, well… over-simplifying. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde: “Everything in moderation. Including reductionism.”

One of the Democratic debates put the next phrase on my list. A soldier’s mother tweeted: “My son is not a pair of  ‘boots on the ground’.” She pleaded for the candidates to stop saying that. Regardless of your politics, I hope you’ll agree to substitute “troops” in 2016. It would be better if there were no need to even consider employing troops, but that would drag us into the just-banned simplistic reductionism.

The Donald also inspired the final entry. I’m tired of hearing political pundits write that he ‘sucks the oxygen out of the room,’ but it’s certainly entertaining to watch him suck. I don’t know what we’ll do after the November election, but the lead up should provide plenty of colorful alternatives for my 2017 list. In the meantime, this completes my 2016 one.

Pride of Ownership: Sexism in Science and Pop Culture

It occurred to me recently that sexism is rampant and insidious when it comes to science and culture. Many of you are thinking: “And you’re surprised because?” It’s not the rampant part that caught my attention; it’s the insidiousness. I’m not sure exactly how this came on my radar. Retirees have a lot of time for ruminating.

I believe I was posting on Facebook about something philosophical or spiritual and mentioned Pascal’s Wager. Or maybe it was one of those daily mishaps that have us muttering: Murphy’s Law. This prompted me to begin collecting these “owned” phrases of our language and culture.

My list quickly expanded to science, and included Ockham’s Razor (for which I had no idea of its meaning but have since looked it up and hence corrected my original spelling) and Mobius Strip (which I can easily fashion from a piece of paper). I scribbled these on the back of an envelope, confident that the list would somehow grow into a blog post one day.

More of these phrases that I’m describing as “pride of ownership” came to me as I was driving to Vermont recently to visit my sister. Fortunately, I carry a small note pad that I was able to fish out of my purse, along with a pen, without weaving out of my lane on the Interstate. I’m quite good at fishing by feel. I’m often forced to do that to find my earplugs in the tray on my bedside table when Jagdish begins snoring in the middle of the night. I’ve also learned to write short reminder notes in the dark.

So, tools in hand, or actually on the passenger seat (the pad) and in the center console (the pen), I jotted down other phrases as they came to me. As you might expect, some of them were torturous versions of their proper selves.

Somewhere around the Massachusetts/New Hampshire border, one of the CDs keeping me awake led me to write: Elton’s John. Of course, Brits will tell you Elton wouldn’t have a john; he’d have a loo. But Elton’s Loo doesn’t fit my blogging needs. That quickly led me to Paddy’s Wagon and soon after that, Fanny’s Pack. I was feeling quite clever at that point, and I had not had even a drop of wine.

Greek mythology and the Bible provided a source for several additions to my list. The most obvious was Achilles’ Heel. And hot on Achilles’ heels, Pandora’s Box, Noah’s Ark and Jacob’s Ladder. I was on a roll. Somewhere around the mid-trip rest area and after a lot of figurative head-scratching, I added the Midas Touch and Gordian Knots.

As I neared the New Hampshire/Vermont border, it dawned on me: few of these names that show pride of ownership are female. The only familiar phrase I had come up with was Pandora’s Box. That was only after I had first thought of Achilles’ Heel, which (in a fit of anatomical exploration inspired by the song “Dem Bones”) eventually connected me to Charlie Horse, too.

When I returned home and started to organize my notes, I realized that concepts and ideas were always paired with men’s names. It’s Pascal’s Wager and Ockham’s Razor and Murphy’s Law. Only the inconsequential utilitarian objects on my list were named after women. A pack, a box—both female ownership. The wagon, the ark, even the ladder—male. An insidious show of sexism if ever there was one.

One area where women have historically been recognized as “owners” is in the naming of hurricanes and tropical storms. It took until 1978 for the National Hurricane Center to finally share the glory of devastation with men, and that was done in phases; (North Pacific storms in ’78; Atlantic Basin in ‘79.) I suppose I should look upon this as a great equalizer in the “pride of ownership” battle. As my mother always said, “Thank the Lord for small favors.” Small favors indeed.

And as I always say, “Thank the Lord for a fine red wine, no matter whose name it carries.”

Save the Penny

Be still my heart. There’s a proposal afoot to get rid of the penny. Speaking of a foot, the first thought that came to my mind when I heard this was: “Where would that leave penny loafers?” I suppose they’d have to become dime loafers; a nickel wouldn’t fit in the slot. Besides, at least one economist is advocating that the government also stop minting the nickel.

“Why?” (You may be wondering.) Simple economics. It now costs about two cents to make a penny (which contains mostly zinc today, not copper). The nickel costs ten cents to produce, so it’s hardly a cost-effective substitute for the penny. That’s why some folks feel it makes sense to kill two coins at the same time. And since we’re talking twos, two days after I post this, Canada will discontinue its penny. The U.S. will be watching what happens up north very closely. Then we’ll probably ignore it.

The plans to jettison the penny generally propose rounding sales up or down to the nearest nickel. People are calling it a ‘rounding tax,’ since so many prices end in 99 cents. If we also drop the nickel, we’ll need to round up or down to the nearest dime. If the potential financial costs to consumers aren’t enough disincentive for these proposals, here are some emotional ones to consider if we remove ‘penny’ from our collective conscience.

Getting rid of the penny would be the death knell for the penny ante. Not to get too maudlin here, but I still have the tin full of pennies that my late mother used when she played poker with her lady friends. The last member of her card group died last year at age 103.

The title (and lyrics) of the Beatles’ song Penny Lane would have to be changed. Somehow Two-Bit Alley just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

The expression: “I’m like a bad penny; I keep turning up” would lose its meaning. There would be no good pennies, and pennies in general would no longer keep turning up. I’m not sure how we’d replace this, but: “I’m like a discontinued penny; I keep rounding up” comes to mind.

Then there’s the adage: “A penny saved is a penny earned.” Not true. A penny saved would be a penny wasted. You’d need to turn them in at a bank to get anything for them, and eventually even Uncle Sam wouldn’t want them.

How about the question: “A penny for your thoughts?” Would that become “A silver dollar for your thoughts?” It’s bad enough the Tooth Fairy has suffered severe inflation over our lifetimes, but the Thought Inquirer? I shudder to think about it.

Continuing with thoughts and inflation, consider: “For what it’s worth, that’s my two cents.” Turns out your two cents has actually been worth four cents, but what would it be worth now? A quarter? Or would you be dropping a dime?

Let’s not forget “penny-wise and pound-foolish.” Seems like a penny hasn’t been wise for quite some time now, so perhaps we could just go with “pound-wise and penny-foolish.” Of course, we’re not Brits, so I guess we’d have to say “dollar-wise and penny-foolish.”

How about your Penny Valentine? If you sent her roses on February 14, would she become your Dime A Dozen Valentine? Whatever you called her and whatever you sent her, what used to cost a pretty penny would now cost an arm and a leg.

Most other ‘penny’ expressions have survived out of nostalgia, so we could keep them. Penny postcards are long gone; eventually, postcards in general will be, too. Do you know what a two-cents plain is (or was)? Think soda fountains and the depression. Penny stocks have always been a euphemism and the penny arcade morphed into the video arcade over thirty years ago. One exception is Pennysaver newspapers; I’d like to see those be pro-active on this issue and become Save-the-Penny papers.

My favorite of all these expressions is one that I hadn’t heard until I was getting fodder for this post. “I felt like a penny waiting for change.” It means you felt helpless or worthless. If the penny and the nickel were taken out of circulation, this phrase would become: “I felt like a dime waiting for change.” I think we should keep “penny” for this one and make it more existential: “I felt like a penny waiting for Godot.” Or perhaps just: “I felt like a penny waiting.” And waiting. And waiting. And nobody came.

Sniff. It’s just too sad to contemplate. Sorry. I need to go get a tissue.

Retirement Peeves — Phrases I’m Tired of Hearing

Now that I’m retired, I see too much daytime television and am home for too many marketing calls. I’ve noticed there are certain phrases I hear over and over. Quite frankly, I’ve had enough of them. I’ve decided to collect them in this post and burn the paper they’re printed on. (Yes, I print these posts, as part of the editing process.) Maybe that will enable me to purge them from my subconscious. Or not.

The absolute favorite phrase I love to hate is: “Don’t hang up!” It’s usually followed by something like: “I have a special offer for [insert captive audience criterion here].” “Medicare recipients” is a popular one. “Homeowners” is a vague generic that's used often.

A variation on the don’t-hang-up is: “Please hold for an important message from your credit card provider. Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with your account.” I usually catch that last phrase as I return the phone to its stand. I assume the next mouthful would have been an offer of identity theft protection, pitched with: “But you never know when you WILL have a problem.” I am so NOT motivated by scare tactics.

Another near the top of my hate list is the ubiquitous infomercial mantra: “But wait! There’s more!” More indeed. There’s always more. And more, and more. Usually an offer to get two of the wondrous item for the same price as one, plus the extra shipping and handling. S&H is always extra. And exorbitant. If the amount appears at all, it’s in mice type rolling by so fast, you can’t read it. Unlike the toll free number in monster type that’s parked on the bottom of the screen.

Similar to wait-there’s-more is: “But first, these messages.” We hear this on “serious” programming almost as much as on fluff. The more irritating the commercial, the more likely it interrupted something so interesting that you’re guaranteed to stay put so you don’t miss the continuation when the ad ends. You’ll pee in your pants before you cut out on a first-these-messages sandwiched between two parts of a spellbinding story. So cruel, especially at my age.

“Congratulations! You have been selected…” I’ve already hung up before I hear what I’ve “won.” But based on the snail mail I get, I’m sure it’s either a trip somewhere, or a free dinner if I’m willing to sit through a sales pitch on investing for my retirement. I’m not. Newsflash! I’m already in my retirement. And the last trip my husband and I took (not counting for business) was our honeymoon.

These are all phrases from robocalls and TV. There are also many that I hear from friends and family that I’d just as soon not. My favorites among these are: “Do you have a minute?” and “Am I interrupting?” You just know that “a minute” is guaranteed to stretch into an hour. Likewise that even if they are interrupting, it won’t matter. If you dare say: “Yes, you are,” they’ll launch into their saga anyway. Chances are they have a problem that will leave you depressed for days.

Another one I hate to hear coming is: “Stop me if I’ve already told you this…” It means they can’t remember whom they’ve told what lately. I feel their pain. The truth is, even if they have told me, chances are I’m not going to remember anyway. So we do this dance, with me an equal partner, going ‘round and ‘round, telling each other the same stories over and over. That’s what friends are for.

The final two phrases I hate to hear from friends and family (and doctors, accountants and Realtors) are ones that I can’t really blame them for. The first is: “This probably isn’t what you were hoping to hear.” At its worst, this is followed by bad news about one’s health. Fortunately for me, more common is something about my taxes or feedback on our house (when it was on the market). Once I reached retirement, I lowered the bar on what I “hope to hear.” It’s far less stressful.

The other one I dislike, for which I have only myself to blame, is: “Where was the last place you remember having it?” I’m sure that’s familiar to many of you. The reason I hate hearing this, other than the obvious, is that, if I could remember the last place I had the item, I could probably find it myself.

No doubt you have your own phrases you love to hate. Feel free to share them. If I get enough, I’ll do another post on this topic, titled (what else?) “But wait! There’s more!”