One of the things I loathe about working as a writer is the rampant use of sloppy language. At times I’ve been reduced to tears by it. I’ve gotten better though, rehearsed my way of reacting until it’s almost natural to think, well, this is what I do for a living, this is how I buy time for myself to write grant proposals for an agency that helps elderly people, this is how I buy groceries, and if people want to assault one of the most wondrous languages in human history, they can answer for that deficit themselves. One of the clients I’m working with now, a marketing person (of course) at a huge corporation we’ve all heard of, is fond of saying, in a very shrill, urgent tone of voice, things like “Guys, guys … what I want us to do here, right, is to pivot on the audience, right, to leverage the communications rhythm.” Rather than object, or throw up, or scream, I sit here at my desk and look out the window. Overhead, a blackbird perches elegantly on the power line, its neck and head moving this way and that, its beak gleaming in the morning sunlight like a river-polished stone. The Chinese grandma who lives three doors down clanks past, pushing her shopping cart that’s overflowing with brown paper bags full of recyclables. A golden-furred cat jumps up onto my fence, where he sits still as a statue, waiting. Perhaps, I think with longing, it will rain today. It’s been a dry summer.
What the woman means is simple. Since there are already employee and customer newsletters a plenty, we should get our hands on their publishing schedules and submit articles accordingly. There is no pivoting whatsoever, and zero rhythm. But she spews forth nonsense like this because she is a senior marketing person. She earns a six-figure salary because of her “depth experience” and her strategic approach to B2B and her expertise at executing on cross-channel initiatives. “And now,” she says, her voice brimming with the kind of barely concealed excitement usually reserved for the moments just before a magic trick is performed, “I am about to start whiteboarding!”
She talks like that – and what I am sharing is but a snippet – because nobody has ever taken the time or nurtured the balls enough to tell her to shut the hell up until she has something to say. I too am guilty as charged on that front. But, her foolishness is paying my bills for half a year. I do protest, though, in my own small way. Unlike all the other PR groupies who sit in on these tedious, mind-numbing calls, I never laugh at her jokes.
What the woman means is simple. Since there are already employee and customer newsletters a plenty, we should get our hands on their publishing schedules and submit articles accordingly. There is no pivoting whatsoever, and zero rhythm. But she spews forth nonsense like this because she is a senior marketing person. She earns a six-figure salary because of her “depth experience” and her strategic approach to B2B and her expertise at executing on cross-channel initiatives. “And now,” she says, her voice brimming with the kind of barely concealed excitement usually reserved for the moments just before a magic trick is performed, “I am about to start whiteboarding!”
She talks like that – and what I am sharing is but a snippet – because nobody has ever taken the time or nurtured the balls enough to tell her to shut the hell up until she has something to say. I too am guilty as charged on that front. But, her foolishness is paying my bills for half a year. I do protest, though, in my own small way. Unlike all the other PR groupies who sit in on these tedious, mind-numbing calls, I never laugh at her jokes.
