Language. I have friend who studies it She's lucky; she has a satellite view to the swirling patterns of lexicon as they form. The rest of us are just victims to it. We stumble wherever the syllabic sirocco of whim and diction dictates. The dust of old words thick in our mouths, while the verbage of new worlds blows past unheeded.
According to Webster, Ma'am and George Papadopolis are Mom and Dad. Oh, wrong Webster. I'm looking for the Dictionary complier and not the ABC 80s sitcom smiler. See, that's the problem. No matter which Webster says which, what, or who, too many words mean too many different things in too many different instances. Even if you're using is the English language, you still need the OED, Webster's, and the Scrabble Player's dictionaries, because your lexicon will change, depending on your circumstance.
I'm divorced. For 7 years I was married. In that marital shift, I had to translate my vocabulary into something new. Single speak, is a different text than married speak.
Last Friday, I went grocery shopping. My favorite checker was working, so I toss all my stuff on her belt. (The aisle treadmill thing, not the strap strapping her store apron in place.) She smiles and says "Hi," while the woman ahead of me praises the wonder that is new Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper. She gets her words from the propaganda dictionary. My checker has apparently heard them before, and is ready to move on to a real conversation.
"Hey," I'm suave and light in my reply. She's working, no need to weigh her down with heavy worldplay. Oh and I nod. I nod in agreement to the smile. "yes, I see you smile," it says, "I'd smile back if I weren't so cool." For emphasis, I do flex the corners of my lips up. I may be too cool to smile, but I'm not an egomaniac.
Somehow, after Ima Pepper leaves, we get on the topic of pets. I'm not sure if it was the Elmer's Glue or the Italian sausage. Either way, whoosh! Out comes her cell phone. She's got a picture of her cat, just like he's her baby, and she wants to show me. The cat's a white short hair with grey specks. He's in that in-between sleep and pounce mode you can only capture in photos; his head's alert and his front torso is floating over tension spring paws, while the back half is a half curled kitty throw, warming space. One frame later, and the picture would be of an empty couch. I give her the appropriate, "How cute." because that's the language of pet appreciation.
Since I'm also a pet owner, I show her the picture of my dog. If you're not a pet owner, I can only compare it to comparing baseball cards as kids.
"Oh, you have a fluffy cat rookie card? Yeah, I've got a drooling doggie, this was the same year he won the MVP for most consecutive spinning backyard circles."
"Wow!"
"I know, huh…"
She returns the appropriate "He's adorable" appreciation (I'll make sure to pet him later.), but then carries it further, asking me questions like "How old is he?" "Where did you get him?" I'm the stuttering backpeddler. I don't have these answers on the tip of my tongue, they require a new language. The original stories are entangled in the words of "We," "Her," and "MyUnwife." I don't have my single language ready yet. So now I'm like an amateur playing his instrument for the first time. I translate the notes on the page into how I'm supposed to create the tones for music. I have to remember that "We" is now "I" and "us" is "me."
Conversations that normally kick out like a reflex, now trip over my fat lip and fall flat. I'm relearning everything, and it must be painful to watch.
My favorite checker is a professional. She smiles and watches. She's patient. She pretends my words are important, before handing me my receipt, and glancing back to the flower lady behind me.
I'm divorced, and I'm back in school. Now I'm relearning the language of my life just as Webster did after his parents car crash, only I'm not nearly as cute. I do have plenty of time though, and with a little practice, I can learn the new words of my world. They're words that mean "selfish" in the married dictionary, but in the divorce dictionary, you can find them under "moving on."
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