People Say the Darnedest Things

Following his first cross-country practice at his new school, my son had to report for an “imPACT” evaluation. The name comes from “Immediate Post Concussion Assessment and Cognitive Testing” and it’s now used widely in schools, apparently to see how our kids’ brains are doing. Gone are the days when only certain rough sports were considered the only culprits; it’s open season now for athletics in general. Apparently, the computerized Q and A session provides important “baseline” data—data we didn’t used to get at all– before every new sports season, and helps to assess the risks particular kids are taking by plunging once more into the fray. It’s a tricky business, no doubt. When it comes to any kind of hits to the head, “impact” sure becomes a bad word.

Lately, I’ve been doing a little impact testing of my own, albeit of a different sort.

Although I like to think of myself as an athlete too (nobody needs to ask exactly how far behind any of my kids I would be on a run, do they?) I’m talking here about how just the words people say can strike us in such different ways— sometimes falling right off us like so much dross, sometimes irritating us, sometimes amusing us, other times being absorbed gratefully like rain on parched earth. And, strangely enough perhaps in this season of so many loved ones pushing off, I’ve mostly been interested in what we hear from people we barely know: recorded voices on the other end of the phone, cashiers at the grocery store, service desk people.

Permit me to take you a kind of tour of some of these common utterances, just for fun.

“Welcome to the Blah Blah Blah Company. Please listen carefully to the following options, as our menu has recently changed.”

Is there anyone out there, I ask you, who actually likes hearing this recording?  Is there anyone out there, I ask you, who actually might remember what the phone extension numbers used to be? With things like this, we live only in the present; not reminiscing at all about the previous times we’ve called, how easily we knew our way around the place in the good old days when the numbers made sense. No, we are only trying to get the information we need and get the hell off the phone, perhaps to deal with the cascade of changes in our lives that really do have some impact—like for instance that the children we used to cart around town to their practices and lessons are now on other continents, glancing at us more or less in the rear view mirror.

“Have you found everything that you’re looking for?”

Don’t you just love this one? I hear it every time I check out at the grocery store; of course all the cashiers have been trained to ask the question. It’s a reasonable question, really it is, and I overhear most other customers agreeing readily that yes, they found satisfaction in the aisles overflowing with products galore. As for me, I always hesitate, because my mind flies immediately outside the supermarket, to the larger world where—let’s face it—finding everything you’re looking for is not so easy. I don’t want to present myself as a disgruntled person, and Lord knows the cashier’s job is demanding enough and s/he doesn’t need any of my musings laid on the conveyer belt. I realize that a qualified response like, “Yes, in here I have found what I’m looking for; still working on it out there, however” or perhaps bursting into the U2 song is kind of ridiculous, so I’m trying to keep a lid on these tendencies. Good thing my kids are almost never with me in the checkout line anymore; they’d be stricken.

“No worries at all!”

This one really takes the cake. Does anyone know how the line has gradually become accepted as a replacement for the perfectly good “You’re welcome”? We’re having a regular transaction in a store, collecting our change perhaps from the person behind the counter, and we hear this. Excuse me, but do you really think that I’m about to be racked with anxiety over buying a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk? I may not have weighty problems at home, but I do tend to save my worrying for things that might have a bit more, um, impact on my life. Before the cashier says this, I might have actually been enjoying a few worry-free minutes. In this way, the line reminds me of the sign posted near many public schools: “Drug Free Zone.” Driving along, I’m not giving drugs in the vicinity a thought, but one glance at the sign and I think they might be lurking in the trees nearby, ready to pounce.

 

“Take it easy!”

This is, alas, not a common line we hear when we go around doing errands; but I heard it the other day at Target, and the simple directive was as welcome as a soft breeze on a hot day. How did the guy know that I’d been dealing with one major event after another in my family–trying to make sure I had every last needed thing for each child about to set up shop elsewhere, wanting to be a good wife through some turbulent weeks, and also trying not to lose sight of my own work. He didn’t know, of course; but his glance suggested that he just might sense something. I’ll take it, sir; and thank you very much. Even if I don’t yet have a hammock set up at home, I can try to put my feet up somewhere and do a kind of mind chill for a while. My husband and kids would probably get the most benefit from this, actually. Just sayin’….

 

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