Cake is no longer the birthday confection of my youth…
I’ve figured out why people have trouble communicating. The reason is words.
When I was a child, you rested on grass to watch the clouds. Pot was a vessel where soup was cooked. Food was cooked. Cooked wasn’t a state of being. Blow was what you did to cool hot food.
The word blow could land anyone in a heap of trouble. With so many meanings; an explosion, to be bad, to exit, a sudden calamity, a dirty deed, cocaine, and to spend money foolishly, it was better not to use blow. I meant the word blow not cocaine, but you wouldn’t want to use cocaine either. See what I mean?
Word problems have compounded in communication with co-workers. I joined a conversation on Netflix and chill. I said, “I love Netflix and chill too. It’s the best thing at the end of a long day. Go home, hit the couch, while I’m cooking dinner, or even while I’m folding laundry.”
And they looked at me, strangely for a moment, then burst out laughing. I didn’t understand what was so funny until it was explained that Netflix and chill meant “to get lucky”. Oh, I was talking movies and margaritas.
Conversation then moved to a television program that pitted Millennials against Generation X. “Sorry, I’m not rooting for either. I’m a Boomer.” Again strange looks.
Millennials had no idea a Boomer was a post WWII war baby. After further discussion, I realized I had referred to myself as a hallucinogenic mushroom. Great, my co-workers equate me with a psychedelic fungus that liked to get lucky.
I sealed my image when singing along to a song about cake by the ocean. I said I loved cake at the beach. Cake, in this reference, did not mean the birthday confection with frosting eaten on a sandy piece of land, but again meant to get lucky.
I did remember when, “Would you like to come in for a drink?” didn’t mean to quench one’s thirst with coffee, but today’s innuendo was bizarre. Let’s hope that bizarre still meant odd.
Another co-worker commented on attending a lame sausage party. A party centered around one kind of meat, hell yeah, that would be lame even with a variety of toppings such as onions, mushrooms, and peppers.
Sure, in my day, we had parties centered around a beverage, but that beverage was beer. The party was called a kegger. All manner of interesting games were developed as entertainment for keg party attendees.
Thankfully, I kept my mouth shut. From further conversation, I deduced a sausage party was a gathering of men.
I’ve also learned that I can’t go to a nursery and ask for a tree. Tree was now another word for pot. If I don’t want to be taken out back behind the greenhouse for a drug deal, I must ask for something specific like a maple or maybe a sickle pear tree.
I’ve also been brought up to speed on a few other words. Daddy wasn’t always the man who was a father, but could also be a male significant other. Thirsty meant you found someone hot and not that you wanted a drink because it was hot. Banging meant awesome. The word awesome had infected our entire management staff and was so overused regardless of age or era, we agreed the word awesome should be stricken from language.
Most of the time, no one has any idea what any one else is actually saying. Hell, I have no idea what I was trying to communicate, but maybe this will save someone from the reputation as an amorous magic mushroom.