{"id":6970,"date":"2017-12-24T20:34:07","date_gmt":"2017-12-25T04:34:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.newsmolo.com\/EDC\/2019\/?p=6970"},"modified":"2025-12-09T20:35:15","modified_gmt":"2025-12-10T04:35:15","slug":"about-words-another-kind-of-christmas-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.newsmolo.com\/EDC\/2019\/2017\/12\/24\/about-words-another-kind-of-christmas-story\/","title":{"rendered":"ABOUT WORDS: ANOTHER KIND OF CHRISTMAS STORY"},"content":{"rendered":"

Jon Hendrickson]<\/em><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t have any idea how many millions of words I\u2019ve written during my day job, dispassionately chronicling the events giving rise to various disputes and how they eventually resolved and passed into dim memory. \u00a0Being couched in legal privileges, my writings had a very limited audience, usually only me most of the time. \u00a0I would like you to know that I have read some of the best literature ever written that no one will ever see, but I could be wrong about that. \u00a0One of the things I have found interesting is that, just as a statistically impossible 95% of all drivers consider themselves to be above-average, most people think they are the masters of their language. \u00a0I don\u2019t believe I\u2019m a better practitioner of the English language than anyone else with as much practice as I have, but I have a few things I would like to say about words.<\/p>\n

WORDS LEFT UNSAID. \u00a0A while back, my ex-wife sent me a Facebook message. \u00a0It was a picture of us when we\u2019d been married a few years, sitting in the side door of our \u201973 VW Bus, smiling. \u00a0Among the words accompanying the picture, she said, \u201cIt brought to mind something I should have said a long time ago\u2026\u201d \u00a0We\u2019ve been divorced for 20-some years and, even though we\u2019re on friendly terms, it was still a surprise, a pleasant one. \u00a0I marveled at how young we both were. \u00a0I\u2019ve long since gotten used to seeing a much older me in the mirror every morning. \u00a0And it was more than a little overwhelming. \u00a0\u201cWords still fail me\u2026\u201d was about all I was able to offer in reply. \u00a0I felt like I had been given a hug and was frustrated by my fumbling inability to figure out how to give one back. \u00a0Maybe she\u2019ll see this sometime and it\u2019ll be just as good.<\/p>\n

THIS PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS. \u00a0Why a thousand? \u00a0Why not two hundred fifty or so? \u00a0How much, exactly, is a thousand words worth? \u00a0Well, of course, these are pointless questions because the statement is a metaphor, which means it really isn\u2019t what it looks like, but is a representation of an idea that would otherwise use up a lot more words to express and, even then, not make any more sense, just like this. \u00a0The individual words in the statement are expressions of single ideas. \u00a0So, just as a crystal takes the shape of its constituent atoms and molecules, the words in the metaphor affect its meaning. \u00a0As I see it, this perfectly describes how the nature of the words we use affect how we see the world. \u00a0It\u2019s no coincidence that people with optimistic, positive attitudes about life in general use optimistic, positive words to describe their lives and where and how they live.<\/p>\n

STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES, BUT WORDS WILL NEVER HURT ME. \u00a0Pretty much everyone knows this isn\u2019t true at all, and for reasons that they have all personally experienced. \u00a0In fact, this cynically ironic little adage may be the gateway drug to a whole \u2018nother world in which words are twisted into language that bears no resemblance to reality. \u00a0This is the world in which politics, TV news, the editorial page and 79.42% of the internet reside. \u00a0Bones heal, but the thousand cuts of unkind, untrue, uninspired words may never heal even as we are oblivious to the insidious way they affect how we see and interact with the world.<\/p>\n

YOU NEED TO READ THESE WORDS. \u00a0For some time, I have been diligently attempting to purge the word \u201cneed\u201d entirely from my vocabulary. \u00a0It has become my personal \u201cN\u201d word. \u00a0It may be the most over-used word in the English language. \u00a0Almost the first thing I learned during the three or four times I took the first couple weeks of Economics 101 was the difference between \u201cneeds\u201d and \u201cwants.\u201d \u00a0As I recall, a \u201cneed\u201d is a deficiency of something essential to existence such as food, clothing and shelter. \u00a0A \u201cwant\u201d is a deficiency of something desirable, but not essential, such as indoor plumbing, cell phone service and a Cadillac. \u00a0But in common parlance, the incessant \u201cYou need to\u2026,\u201d \u201cI need you to\u2026,\u201d \u201cWhat needs to happen is\u2026,\u201d has become a tiresome, trite and lazy habit of making demands which assume an urgency without offering evidence that such urgency actually exists. \u00a0This is the verbal equivalent of getting into your car in Fair Play and getting out of it in Placerville without having to endure any of the roads between them. \u00a0The invocation of \u201cneed\u201d shuts off any duty to disclose or discuss a reason for the demand and, apparently, equally shuts off any intent to require a reason. \u00a0A demand of this nature should seem unreasonable, whether it really is or not, but is rarely questioned. \u00a0Need is a feature of poverty. \u00a0There are all kinds of poverty, but the worst, in my view, is poverty of spirit clothed in a mantle of victimness. \u00a0That\u2019s why I get kind of peevish every time I hear the word \u201cneed.\u201d \u00a0The language of poverty is not very uplifting or inspiring. \u00a0If we were all equal participants in these conversations, we would have the right and the duty to call B.S. on them. \u00a0Unfortunately, I hear it all too often in multiple chains of command, the bottom of all of which is me. \u00a0I would, frankly, prefer to spend my time with those people who have figured out that words do hurt more than sticks and stones, but still choose to use their thousand words to describe a better world than one filled with \u201cneed.\u201d<\/p>\n

ARE MY WORDS GOOD ENOUGH? \u00a0It\u2019s probably not much of a coincidence that these thoughts have occurred to me near the end of the year. \u00a0November and December are the holiday months for most of us. \u00a0Time off and opportunities for indulging in various excesses come more frequently than any other time of the year. \u00a0It\u2019s a more social time, too, when we gather with family and friends. \u00a0With judicious application of our preferred liquid social lubricants, we find we are actually enjoying ourselves and the company of others more than most other times of the year. \u00a0As cloying as I find the holiday music and trite the constant exhortations to be joyous and happy, I can\u2019t not let my mood be buoyed by the language of the season.<\/p>\n

A local friend I\u2019ll call Nancy, mainly because that\u2019s her name, is an aspiring writer. \u00a0Some time ago, she asked me to read a story she wrote for a college English class and give her an \u201chonest critique.\u201d \u00a0Not wanting to admit to her that I really don\u2019t have any qualifications to do such a thing, I accepted her assignment with some trepidation. \u00a0I had read horror stories by people who agreed to offer helpful criticism of someone else\u2019s writing and the consensus was that it was an entirely unpleasant, unrewarding and bitter experience they would never repeat.<\/p>\n

It was a Christmas story. \u00a0It was also a class assignment in which Nancy was asked to demonstrate several specific skills, so it was necessarily constrained by the parameters of the assignment. \u00a0When Nancy gave me her piece at her place of work, I hastily read it to get the gist of the story before taking it home to peruse at length. \u00a0Before leaving, though, I asked Nancy if the story was autobiographical. \u00a0It was. \u00a0She spent a few minutes telling me about her story and how she tried to fit it into the assignment. \u00a0I spent a little time every day looking at the structure, syntax and technical details of the story before giving it back to her the next week with my notes and suggestions. \u00a0What I didn\u2019t tell her, but should have, was that the story she told me in a few minutes, the way she told it, was more compelling than what she wrote and that\u2019s how she should write it if she does so later for her own satisfaction rather than as an assignment. \u00a0She has a voice and a story to tell. \u00a0And her story has a happy ending.<\/p>\n

And so, eventually, does this. \u00a0Rather than seeing myself having gotten stuck with an onerous, thankless task, I found myself enjoying the read and finding ways I thought the story could be improved. \u00a0I accepted the assignment thinking I was doing Nancy a favor, but after I finished my notes and gave her story back to her it occurred to me that I learned more about what I bring to the keyboard and what I do with it than I did about the mechanics of Nancy\u2019s story.<\/p>\n

Words come hard for me until an idea which will bind them together starts to form. I rely on William Forrester\u2019s advice to just write until the idea comes. \u00a0\u201cFake it \u2018til you make it\u201d really does work. \u00a0Words inspired this essay. \u00a0Not mine, but someone else\u2019s. \u00a0It was really Nancy who was doing me the favor. \u00a0It was an early O. Henry kind of Merry Christmas! \u00a0And, Dear Reader, I wish something of the same for you!<\/p>\n

Jon Hendrickson.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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