By Jim Hagarty
1994
Those of you who have read this column with any sort of regularity will know that, from time to time, I go on a surly rant against modern-day assaults on the English language from people who follow word and phrase fads as energetically as they do other trends such as in clothing and home decor.
Thus we are blessed these days with the extravagant use of the word, “exactly.”
“You know,” says Clara to Roberta, “the people who make the laws in this country don’t seem to give a fig for us ordinary folk.” And you know how Roberta replies? Not with a, “You’ve got that right, Clara dear,” or an “I hear you, loud and clear,” or “That’s for sure,” or “I couldn’t agree with you more,” but with a nice, tidy, snappy, “Exactly!”
This, I can handle once in a conversation. In a long conversation, twice. But after almost every statement?
“Boy, it’s cold out here.”
“Exactly.”
“I sure get sick of shovelling out the driveway.”
“Exactly.”
“You know, Percy, you’re starting to drive me nuts.”
“Exactly.”
But, I see I can count on no help from the newspaper industry in my struggle to straighten out the speaking patterns of my fellow homo sapiens. This week, a Toronto Star editorial punctuated the end of a long tirade about something or other with one word: “Exactly.” And the editorial writer gave it a whole paragraph of its own.
Lazy writing?
Exactly.
Moving on to something equally galling, let’s take the word “vehicle.” As in, “I jumped in my vehicle and drove to the store for a frozen dinner.” Case closed.
Unless, of course, you’re an artist. Then, all of sudden, music, for you, is the ideal “vehicle” to express your inner angst. A sculptor finds the new art gallery in town will provide him with the perfect “vehicle” to deliver his vision to the world. Fly-swatter salesmen found the three-day trade show just wasn’t the right “vehicle” for their message of how important it is to murder flies.
But what, oh what do you do, if your job is selling vehicles?
“Frank found the recreational vehicle show was just the right vehicle to promote his vehicle.”
Nah!
And finally, who would have thought the word to describe low temperatures and a calm state of mind would make a reappearance 30 years after it sprang up as a remark indicating how all right something was?
“How do you like Herman’s new bathing suit?”
“Cool.”
“Sun’s staying up a lot later these days, eh?”
“Cool.”
“Darn cold out, isn’t it?”
“Cool.”
“Exactly.”
