Verbal Abuse Can be a Laughing Matter

My former boss had a less than stellar command of the English language. I would call it more of a cellar command, actually. The fact that she worked in advertising for most of her adult life has caused my head to itch on more than one occasion.

This woman had an uncanny knack for mixing phrases into odd combinations, attaching parts of different words in order to make one word and uttering dislexic cliches until the cows came home. In her world, that would translate to something like until the cows went to bed.

One year on my annual review she put, “Erika keeps her desk neat and safety free.” Pleased as I was at the positive intent, I couldn’t get completely past the fact that “safety free” means, well, free of safety or not safe if you apply the rules of grammar in our language. Even more puzzling is the fact that her boss, who actually is articulate, signed off on the review. I didn’t correct them. Sometimes it’s just not worth it.

We all got so much mileage out of this woman’s personal vocabulary that there is an anthology of sorts floating around this country with the hilarious results of her misguided attempts to communicate.

I’ll share some of the highlights. A fiscal year became “facial year.” A saga was a “senaga.” We determined this was a combination of scenario and saga. We used it so much in jest behind her back that I have to think twice now when I get ready to say the real word.

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like you were in seventh heaven but in my boss’ world it was “fifth heaven.” We just figured that was a state of slightly less than perfect bliss. She expected us to treat our customers with “kitten gloves” as they are a tiny bit softer than kid gloves. And when we went out to sell ads she expected us to be “hung go.” One day she admonished us for “hubbering and conjugating” instead of doing our work. We may have been congregating but I’m still confused about the implication (and I mean LOOSE implication) that we were hovering.

No, you actually can’t lead a “dead horse to water” but I’m sure glad she reminded us of that fact on a regular basis. It’s a good thing to keep in mind.

This fun loving woman did so enjoy a good art ”festibal”–certainly more than a depressing funeral “recession.” And, not to be outdone by so many grammar-challenged folks, when she gave us “pacific” instructions they had nothing to do with west coast travel. 

Malapropism defined is unintentionally humorous misuse or distortion of a word or phrase, sounding somewhat like the intended word but “ludicrously” wrong in context . It’s a rampant condition–one I’m so grateful to have escaped in this life.

I often wonder if it’s caused by misfiring neurons, unusually cavernous synapses or, simply, not listening. Whatever the cause, it’s unfortunate because most people are so unaware that they’re guilty of it and because most other people are laughing their heads off at the perpetrators. It’s the grammatic equivalent of a woman’s skirt being tucked into her underwear without her knowledge. A real “cringer.”

My advice if you think you suffer from this: Listen very carefully, read and consult dictionaries frequently. We could be laughing at you. My former boss was eventually booted to greener pastors (just checking to see if you’re paying attention) but you should have seen her envy the day the big boss’ wife drove up in her new “Vulva.” Yes, she did. And I feel reasonably sure that at some point the Good Lord saw fit to give her one of her very own.