ain’t got no style? don’t worry. be happy
Sing it with me… “Here’s a little blog I wrote. You might want to read it note for note…” No that’s not right. Or is it?
I have a confession to make. I may be addicted to commas. It’s not a problem in the same way I’m addicted to those scented flipchart markers. Especially the purple ones. I have a bag of them (markers, not commas) from the old days when people used flipcharts more than whiteboards. I used to do a lot of presentations at work. Now I mostly just sniff the purple markers. I know it probably isn’t good for me. It may even be a contributing factor to this blogpost. But they smell amazing. They are worth every dead brain cell and all the wounded ones. They’re even worth the small purple dot on my nose I sometimes walk around with.
But I’m not writing (today) to celebrate the health benefits or hazards of sniffing scented flipchart markers. At least not any longer. Today, I’m going to piss off even more people, many of whom I respect and truly care about. For a while, it was a secret. Something I believed but couldn’t admit. Then I got older. I started seeing the world differently. Listening. Eventually, I started teaching what I believed and observed. And, now, finally, I have the courage to say it out loud to all six of you reading this blog…
Please sit down. I will not be held responsible for shock-induced falling. No twisted ankles, skinned knees, or those freakishly painful, golf ball-sized lumps that grow when people bump their elbows. So, sit. I’ll wait.
Now that I’ve assured the safety of a dozen elbows, ankles, and knees, it’s time for the big unveil…
People do not speak in AP style. Or APA style. Or Chicago Manual of style. The only proper English is the kind the person you’re talking to understands. The rules of style, grammar (yes, even commas) don’t matter as long as the person you’re trying to communicate with gets what you’re trying to say. I’m sorry, Jane. I’m sorry, Karlin. I’m sorry to Jim Yates, Sam Bertino, Mrs. Stavisky, and Miss Harrington.
In my opinion, these accepted styles only improve communication if everyone is using the same one. All the time. And guess what? People don’t talk that way.
I’m a professional communicator, which is to say people actually pay me to write stuff. But not this stuff. This, I do for fun. Anyway, I’ve been doing this longer than some and not as long as others, but I think we can all agree that communication is a messy business. Some people try to make sense of it all by making rules and demanding people follow them—meaning be damned! I decided a long time ago to embrace the mess and hop on the Parenthood roller coaster. If I write something in AP style, it’s probably an accident. I don’t know all the rules, nor do I care to know them. I sometimes make up words and encourage others to do the same. Why? Because sometimes I don’t know the right word. Sometimes the right word is stuck somewhere between two other words. And sometimes it’s just fun.
I haven’t always been a simple person. I often over-think things. In some ways, I’m still a little… let’s say tangled. And then there’s that comma problem. But I have learned that while we’re all complex creatures, we don’t have to be complicated. The times I’ve been most successful are when I’ve made the effort to listen to my audience and write the way they speak. To me, communication starts with relatability.
Almost 20 years ago, I was working for a major professional services firm. Every day, I heard lots of people stringing together really big words and saying very little. I saw eyes glaze over. Observed people pretending to understand and then going off on their own to try to figure out what the speaker in that meeting was trying to say. More often than they would have cared to admit, nothing got done after those meetings.
Unfortunately, some of that rubbed off. I was in a meeting one day and I used the word, operationalize. I had heard the word so much that I thought it was a real word. But it wasn’t. Not then.
My friend, Laura, called me out on it, referring to it as a “good word candidate.” And do you know what? Now it’s an actual word. It’s in the damned dictionary. It’s on Wikipedia. That’s why, when I hear good word candidates like flustrated, ascared, and even agreeance, I chuckle to myself and keep my trap shut. You never know when shit’s about to get real. So why not just be real from the start? Strunk and White may not sell as many books, but I think we’ll all understand each other a lot better.
So, do what the man says, “Don’t worry. Be happy.” I know it’s an obscure connection, but this song reminds me of a simpler time. Plus, Robin Williams is in it. At least I think it’s him. If not, it’s definitely a good Robin Williams candidate.
Who doesn’t love Robin Williams? No one, that’s who! So, click play. Watch. Listen. Smile. And then post some of your own word candidates. Let’s start a new dictionary!
Purple marker, anyone?
Cheers!
