Language is, arguably, the greatest achievement of humanity. Language is what allows us to do everything from surgery, to engineering, to music, to sports, or at least people spouting drivel on TV chat shows about sports. Well, OK maybe that last one is iffy, but you get the point. Language is the foundation of nearly every human endeavour. Language is our most fundamental tool. Which is why I find it so amazing how many people don’t seem to know how to use language.

Now I will admit a particular fondness for language. Though I don't claim to be perfect, I do try to use language correctly and I appreciate a well turned phrase. Just yesterday Marsha and I were talking about an upcoming visit to the vet and I used the word prophylaxis. Now I was using it correctly, an action or medication to prevent rather than cure, but Marsha wondered why I didn’t just use preventative, or precautionary. Well, I used prophylaxis because prophylaxis was the right word. Marsha just thought it was because I liked the word, and for that mater, a lot of complex words. I do after all use stipulated and ersatz in conversation. But no, I insisted, I used prophylaxis because prophylaxis was the word to use. Imagine my amusement when we arrived at the vet and on the wall was a poster for a special they were running on feline dental care. Right on the poster they said “Cleaning and Prophylactic Care”. I took a great deal of joy in pointing this out to Marsha.

These thoughts were prompted by a stop I made at Tim Hortons on Thursday. Now, Tim Hortons has these big TV screens behind the counter for the menu. This makes changing the prices easier. However, as I walked in and looked at the screens they suddenly switched to a commercial for, yes, Tim Hortons. This didn’t strike me as the most effective use of the resource, I mean I was AT Tim Hortons already. Now, admittedly it wasn’t a generic Tim Hortons ad. It was for their Roll Up The Rim To Win contest. For those who may not know, this is something they do once or twice a year. This is a game played with a paper Tim Hortons cup, the kind they use for coffee, tea, soft drinks, etc. Once it’s empty, you unroll the rim to find the words Sorry Try Again printed inside. Frankly, I’m not sure of the appeal of the game but it seems to be a big deal here in Canada. 

Fortunately, when I got to the front I found a tattered photocopy of their menu taped to the counter so I knew what to order. The fun started when the person behind the counter asked me WelcomeToTimHortonsWhigiWigitForYou? At least that’s what I think she was saying. Everything came out very fast and slightly garbled. I placed my order and she replied WouldYouLikeHazblepWiThat? I was not quite sure what she was asking, but I crossed my fingers and said yes. (It turned out to be hash browns.) ThankYouWeWelbeingYourOrderToTheartherter was her reply. I stepped across to the Order Counter, (because I already knew the drill) and waited.

There were three or four other people also awaiting their orders. After a bit an order came up and the person behind the counter announced “Nifflenarflewafflenipplemuffin” and walked away. Nobody moved. We all stood there for a second looking at each other and finally I spoke up “Well, I have no idea what she said”. Someone else waiting replied “I think she said sausage something muffin maybe.” “Ah, probably mine then.” I replied and picked up the paper sack. My order wasn’t complete though and I waited a little longer for my tea. Other orders arrived and I noticed that every order was announced with “Nifflenarflewafflenipplemuffin” and not one person there had any idea what they were saying. Every order was a complete mystery. Finally my tea arrived and I took it and left with a hearty “Thngumech.”

There’s a difference between being fast and clear and just being fast. The latter takes longer in the end because of garbled communication. I just shudder to think how they do on the drive through, or for that matter, if one of them someday became an Air Traffic Controller.

In the afternoon I was chatting with Tom, one of the people at work. We got on the subject of food and he recommended Milano’s, which is, as it turns out, one of our favourite restaurants. I believe I’ve mentioned their Halibut Tacos in the past. Tom said that he loved their lasagna. 

Tom: Milano’s makes the best lasagna ever. 
Me: Well, I’ve already told Marsha that she makes the best lasagna.
Tom: That’s OK, I said the same thing to my wife, so I just told her “Yours is the best for what it is.”
Me: (Long Pause), What?
Tom: Homemade. She makes the best lasagna at home.
Me: Oh, OK
Me: But what do you do if she asks which one is better?
Tom: I just said that there was no comparison.
Me: Oh. OK.

I really wonder how Tom has been married for as long as he has. It’s a good thing he’s in is current line of work and didn’t aspire to become, for example, a diplomat or arbitrator.

Thinking of this experience though, reminded me of telephone messages. You know how when someone leaves a message, it's supposed to be clear and concise. We were taught as kids to say who’s calling, the number where we could be reached, a brief message, then who and the number again. Yet for some reason I keep getting these messages that are nearly unintelligible. You know "Hi it's me, give me a call.” I mean seriously, I have a cheap LG phone. Me doesn't mean anything. On my phone everyone sounds like John Wayne, or Carol Channing depending on reception. Then there are the people that do leave a number, sort of.  "Hi call me, I'm at nine, seven-teen, double ought, forty two.” Sure, the number is there but scrambled. I start writing seven then have to wedge in the one to make seventeen and then miss the next number. Was that double ought or double eight? Was that followed by forty-two or forty and then two? It’s supposed to be a phone number not the Enigma code. The best though, are the callers that make up words. You know how the buttons on your phone have letters on them. The idea, which I suspect was dreamed up by someone on heavy medication, is that you could use the letters to encode your number. 2 could be replaced by an A, a B, or a C, 3 could be replaced by a D, an E, or an F, and so on. For a while business used this. They thought it clever to say in an ad, “Call Bobs Furniture Barn Today. We’re at 1-800 GudChair."  Over time they realized that nobody had any idea what number corresponded to GudChair, and so you seldom see this any more. There are though, a few that still think it clever and this leads to messages like "Hi, it's me, call me, I'm at picklefish". What does that even mean? A variation on this is when they use words with ambiguous spelling. "Call me at jette bouff". What?!? Is that ett or att? Is it one t or two? How the hell do you spell bouff anyway. Really is it that hard to say the number? “Call me at 1.2.3-4.5-6.7”, its, simple, and clear.

But my personal favourite, and mean that with all due sarcasm, are those that leave too much but not quite enough information. You know them. 

"Hi, it's me. I need to talk to you about what we talked about last time. Well the guy is not sure if he can hold up his end. Why? I don't know but you know this is so typical of them, isn't it. Anyway I'll be waiting for your call. Oh did you catch that thing I told you about. It was great. Really fun and it'll be useful I think. So anyhow, why not give me a call when you get a chance. Best not this evening though. I'll be at her place and you know how that always goes. So best give me a buzz between three and four next Thursday. I'll be free then. Unless of course you-know-what comes up. Really not looking forward to that. So anyway, give me a call. I can be reached at . 

They fill up your voicemail with a message that does not tell you anything of use. And you can be sure that they will be annoyed when you don't call back.

And people wonder why I hate telephones. 

Link of the week: Minnesotans need this. Vancouver Islanders don’t
http://www.chonday.com/Videos/snowblowvch1