Gilda Radner’s delightfully clueless character Emily Litella editorialized on the fictional “Weekend Update” about things she’d heard about but usually misunderstood. Things like “violins on television.”
What’s the big deal, she would ask? Then she’d get herself worked up until the anchor explained that the recent study was about violence on television (and its negative effects). Then came the signature line from Miss Emily: “Nevermind.”
As a person with an increasingly irritating hearing loss, I love Emily more and more and find myself quoting that signature line quite often. It helps me to avoid jumping to conclusions when there’s a better than average chance that what I thought I heard was nothing like what the other person said. Since my husband is just as hard of hearing, my house is sometimes filled with a string of misfires of information that are nothing short of sitcom-worthy dialog.
It’s entirely possible that the secret to a long and happy marriage such as ours is never really understanding your spouse, but assuming that he or she probably has the right idea. This is a good assumption to make.
In the spirit of Emily Litella, there are things in our language that have crept into being routinely accepted that, well, I just don’t like. Are they related? I don’t honestly know.
The first is the default response to “thank you” appears now to be “no problem.” This expression has its place … like when your server asks if everything is ok and you say “actually, I ordered chicken and this is steak. Would you bring this back and get my order?”
The server says “oh, of course. Sorry about the mix-up. I’ll bring your dinner right away.” At this point, you say “thanks so much” and the server might say “no problem.”
I’m ok with that – the server is telling you that you certainly haven’t caused a problem – instead, you may even be solving one (for someone who’s waiting for their steak).
But when it’s dropped into every exchange that starts with “thank you” (like someone holding a door for you when your hands are full or handing you your pen when you dropped it), I just don’t really know what it means. I know that such incidentals are not causing problems for anyone, but why not “you’re welcome” or “my pleasure” (which is my favorite response to an offer of thanks). I like helping people. It really IS my pleasure.
That brings me to the now entirely abused “I’m sorry.” I appreciate a good apology as much as anyone, but lately I’m noticing that we (especially women) apologize way too much for far too little. It’s become reflexive and nearly meaningless. If you’re five minutes late to an appointment (and this is NOT your habit), why not simply thank the folks who are waiting for their patience and then get right down to business? Is someone going to be offended for your lack of apology? Try to get through a whole day without saying “sorry” about this or that. It might be harder than you think. By turning it into an opportunity to thank someone instead, you may find greater satisfaction.
Of course, they might respond to your thanks with “no problem.”
Jean Bolduc is a freelance writer and the host of the Weekend Watercooler on 97-9 The Hill. She is the author of “African Americans of Durham & Orange Counties: An Oral History” (History Press, 2016) and has served on Orange County’s Human Relations Commission, The Alliance of AIDS Services-Carolina, the Orange County Housing Authority Board of Commissioners, and the Orange County Schools’ Equity Task Force. She was a featured columnist and reporter for the Chapel Hill Herald and the News & Observer.
Readers can reach Jean via email – jean@penandinc.com and via Twitter @JeanBolduc
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