Won't you join my cliche'?

Webster’s dictionary defines a cliché as something trite, a phrase or expression; a hackneyed theme, characterization, or situation; something that has become overly familiar or commonplace. As a writer one has to be very careful not to fall into the habit of using a cliché too often. It is amazing how much they come in to play in our everyday language. Never has this been more obvious to me than when I listen to sports announcers on television. Someone needs to tell the announcers that everyone already knows that the best defense is a good offense. If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a million times. One day these warriors of the broadcast booth will realize that striving for mediocrity will come back to haunt them. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to throw all of them under the bus. Sometimes a color analyst has to learn to take one for the team, while others need to step it up and bring their A game – you know, give us 110%. Instead they find themselves taking it just one game at a time so that, at the end of the day, they can be that “clutch” announcer. Cliché’s aren’t limited to sports announcers. News anchors and reporters are just as guilty. As they try their hardest to bring news that is current to the area residents in the wake of deadlines, they can easily leave us with many unanswered questions. We are all left to wonder if this is the fault of the reporters or their staff. Don’t think that just because you are not behind the news desk, or the microphone, that you are exempt from overusing clichés. I know you didn’t ask for my two-cents’ worth, but I feel obliged to give it to you anyway. To avoid these overused expressions we must learn to think outside the box. I mean, it’s not rocket science here. And if you can’t do it for yourself, think of the children. When it is all said and done, at the end of the day, reducing clichés in our everyday speech, now more than ever, should be a goal for us all. Going forward we should all resolve to eliminate these trite expressions from our vernacular. Thinking more clearly about the words we use could be a win-win situation. Our language skills would improve and we might actually listen to the person speaking. But, it is what it is. No one wants to talk about the elephant in the room. The bottom line is, verbal communication is taking a beating. We need to get everyone on board and shake off this 800 pound gorilla. Whew, it felt good to get that off my chest.

Attention! Attention!

I admit it. I've lost it. I've lost the ability to remember things. My ability to focus. Some of it I blame on age. Some of it I blame on not taking care of my mind like I should. Most of it I blame on the loss of my daughter. Regardless of the reason, I miss my brain almost as much as I miss my Beth.

It was a nice brain when I had it. It did a great job of remembering names, faces, dates and obscure details found only in Trivial Pursuit. My powers of observation were keen. My ability to hold numbers in my head surprised even me. I could tell you my wife's Social Security number, my phone number from when my family first moved to Mississippi in 1970 and the five-digit employee number I had when I worked for a major retailer in college 25 years ago.

I'm not sure exactly when I started losing my mind. My attempts at athletic events did a number on my body, but I didn't lose my mind then. My half-decade at USM did not destroy too many brain cells. Even being a parent didn't cause a decrease in mental faculties (although there were times when I felt like it did).

So what do you do when you are facing what must surely be diagnosed as Adult Attention Deficit something or another? How do you turn off all the conversations going on around you and focus on just the one you should be having with your wife? I was told that taking Ginkgo Biloba may help somewhat - if I can remember to take it.

Have no fear, I have found a solution! Since there is no longer any room for memory in my head, I am storing as much of it as I can on my computer. And my smartphone. And my iPad. These devices are handy at helping me remember important dates, names and numbers. I'm afraid that it won't be enough though. Yes, it helps to be able to have a name and phone number stored away for safe keeping, but when I open my address book and look at some of the names there I still have to wonder who the heck that person is and why did I feel it necessary to save their name and number?

Thankfully my smartphone has saved me more than once. I have consolidated my memory into focusing only on how to get at the information I need. This means remembering one or two steps to have access to several memories. With the help of what is essentially a computer on my hip, I can now remember everything I need to get through the day. I literally carry my brain around with me wherever I go. My future is brighter. I have found salvation in a device no larger than a 3-by-5 index card. There is hope for me yet.

Has anyone seen what I did with my phone?

We need governmental assistance

Mississippi has long lagged behind its 49 brothers and sisters in many categories. One that we must be proud to be a leader in is obesity. Many people don’t know this but Mississippi was once a northern state but, due to the wonderful fried foods we have ingested over the years we actually slipped below the Bible belt leaving America’s waistline somewhere around its armpits. Or Arkansas.

Why has Mississippi gotten so fat? For any number of reasons. We know fried foods cause us weight gain but without the grease involved in frying we would have sunk into the Gulf of Mexico. This means we mustn’t give up our chicken-fried lasagna but instead look for other alternatives.

Without a doubt we have become a very lazy people. I will admit that I fall in that category. I bought a treadmill and an exercise bike in an effort to regain the energy and shape I had 15 years ago. Like an idiot, I put them upstairs. I would use them more but I am panting after climbing the stairs. I joined a gym once. I stopped going because I got caught in that ever increasing line of cars that circled the parking lot looking for a spot to park close to the door so I wouldn’t have to walk so far. Besides, if I start getting in shape now my wife may think I found someone else. So I remain lethargic for marital harmony.

I think that I am increasing in girth because I am addicted to food. Sometimes I think that if I don’t have food I will just die. The addiction is so bad that sometimes I smear newspaper ink on my nose just trying to smell Robert St. John’s latest recipe in the American.

I know I can’t be alone in this. We need to unite and fight the weight fight. All who agree raise your Twinkies in the air and repeat after me, “I don’t want to lose the fight to lose.”

So, where do we go from here? I have to believe that there are steps that America should be forced to help us with. It’s all about self esteem, right? We should begin by asking clothing manufacturers to re-label the clothes. All marked sizes should be 6 sizes lower than they actually are. Next we should forbid advertising of any food after 9:00 PM. Munchies are hard enough to fight in the first place. A third thing America could do for us is require that the parking spaces for all fast food places be located one-quarter mile from the actual restaurant doors. While they are at it, board up drive through windows to make us actually get out of our rolling dining table. America needs to take the initiative because obviously I can’t.

I am sure that you can come up with some ideas of your own. We should all meet and discuss this over a nice Baked Alaska… and a diet coke.