Pluses, Minuses in the Altered Language--’No Problem’

Lt. Gen. Thomas W. Kelly, in one of his briefings on the Gulf War, surprised word-conscious reporters when he used the word attrit , meaning to wear down or erode, as a verb.

Some consulted their dictionaries and couldn’t find it. Bill Movius of Palos Verdes reports, however, that attrite is in Webster’s Third New International.

Indeed it is. The citation reads: “ attrite , adj. having attrition.” It also lists “ attrited , adj., worn down by attrition.” The American Heritage Dictionary also lists “ attrited , adj., worn down by attrition.”

That the dictionaries do not list the word as a verb does not mean that Gen. Kelly is not free to use it thus. Many verbs are derived from nouns. Thus, to table a motion. Or, in Ozark, to hip a young’n --to carry a child on one’s hip.

Sometimes it seems that half our words and phrases are not to be found in dictionaries. Such is the strength of our language. The species has a genius for language, and no language remains static, much as some purists would like to keep it that way.

Although they occur spontaneously in my speech, I can never think of new words when I want to point them out or examine them. A reader, Gloria Cuadra, has no such problem. She collects them.

Cuadra points out that many neologisms start out as slang but soon find their way into the formal language. For example, hi fi . (Who says, or writes high fidelity anymore?) Woofers and tweeters , for hi-fi speakers, also started out as a joke.

Cuadra notes that many current idioms are derived from the Yiddish, given to us by stand-up comedians. For example, “I’m talking,” instead of “I’m talking about. . . .”

One says “I’m talking big bucks” instead of “I’m talking about big bucks.” I’m not sure whether Cuadra favors this usage, but I like it. The ellipsis of the unnecessary about is good English and strengthens the phrase. (“Are you talking marriage or are you talking sex?”)

She also cites “better you should” as probably of Yiddish origin: “Better you should” instead of “It would be better if you’d. . . . “

She recalls a letter I quoted on my idea of taking up golf: “Better you should collect stamps.”

Another common phrase undoubtedly drawn from Yiddish is “All right, already,” meaning “That’s enough,” or “Shut up!”

I’m not sure that I have ever used “All right, already,” because it is rather rude and suggests that one has lost the argument. But I have had it directed at me often enough, and I find it blunt and effective.

Another common expression that smacks of Yiddish is “Go figure,” which means, loosely, “Try to account for it yourself,” “See for yourself if what I say doesn’t add up.” “Go figure” is brief, clear and effective.

She also cites “You were expecting maybe” instead of “Were you expecting. . . ?” “You were expecting maybe” is usually used when the person addressed seems to be disappointed by what one is offering. “You were expecting maybe a gorgeous blonde?” “You were expecting maybe a four-star general?”

Cuadra has also noticed that everyday expressions unaccountably change. Thus, “There you are” has become “Here you go.” This is the phrase customarily spoken by waitresses when they bring your order.

Actually, I think both expressions have been replaced by the tiresome “Enjoy your meal.” Lately, in fact, most waiters simply say “Enjoy.”

This doesn’t really annoy me, but I always wonder what gives waiters the idea that I will enjoy my dinner more if they tell me to. I’d rather they said, “If you need anything, just whistle.”

Cuadra also notes that “do drugs” has replaced “take drugs.” True. I don’t know the origin of this usage, but I suspect that scientists led the way. Have you noticed that scientists no longer study science, or practice science? They do it. They do physics. Or they do astronomy. Or they do biology. Whatever their field is, they do it. Everybody wants to emulate the scientists.

Cuadra notes that “to have a problem with” means to be uncomfortable with or find fault with. “You got a problem with that?”

Even more common, it seems to me, is the all-purpose palliative, “No problem.”

“No problem” is the universal cliche for “Don’t worry about it. It will be OK.” Or “Don’t worry. I can fix it.” It’s what the passerby says to the guy who has just been shot out of a second-story window after he has said, “Are you all right?” and the guy says “No, I’m not all right. I have two broken legs and a bullet through the lung,” and the passerby says, “No problem.”

You got a problem with this? No problem.