The Insidious Catchphrase
I think we can all agree that a catchphrase is, at best (and this is probably stretching it), funny one time. Most of them are never funny. I hope the robots who sit around and generate these abominations all day are ashamed of themselves. I’m assuming our technology is to the advanced state where robots can now feel shame, and if they can’t, someone really should work on that.
So imagine my surprise when this morning I channeled Larry the Cable Guy and said to my ten year old, “Git’r done!”
I have no defense, but I will say that we were in a hurry — well, I was anyway — and as I tried to rush him through his morning routine, those words just spilled out. I was pretty horrified, but to my credit, I didn’t do the voice. Ok, maybe a little bit of the voice came out on the “r”, but nothing over the top.
I was immediately jolted back to my childhood, to the annual family picnic.
“Where’s the beef?” asked great grandma like she was set on repeat. She paused, feigned confusion, and waited for the obligatory laugh from some uncle or unfortunate teenage passer-by who was only there to steal beer. This went on for at least a half hour, possibly longer. I managed to escape to the playground equipment where I could silently contemplate how disaffected I was and listen to The Cure on my Walkman in peace.
I felt a bit guilty later when I saw her gnawing on her flip flop. I guess it had been a genuine question.
So to hear myself repeat those three words (two and a half?), and not at all ironically, well, ugh. My son didn’t notice, he’s probably never heard the phrase. I’ve never actually seen Larry the Cable Guy’s stand up routine, and yet this insidious catchphrase still found a way into my consciousness. I know I’ve heard it repeated, but where?
I don’t watch a lot of TV, so I suspect it’s that one guy who’s always in the break room talking about his workout or his kids acceptance to prestigious colleges or his latest get rich quick scheme. Once, on my way to the restroom, he tried to entangle me in Amway. I had to pretend I didn’t speak English to get away.
Here are examples of other pesky phrases that are lodged in my brain more than likely because of him. They rank as some of the worst of all time. I know you know these, and I also know that after you read them, if all goes according to my plan, you will unwittingly say one of them by accident in the next few days. Hahaha — you’re welcome!
Talk to the hand
No soup for you
Fo’ shizzle
That’s hot
Chillax
Don’t tase me, bro! (and anything with bro in it)
and of course, Arfarfan’arf
Thankfully as writers we can use the annoyances of life in our work. Isn’t that really the best part of writing? One of my characters has a never ending supply of catchphrases which he neither understands the meaning of nor knows how to use. Then he insists others around him acknowledge his clever use of the phrases.
“Did you see the lightning storm last night?” asked Tommy.
“I think it started a forest fire,” said Jenny.
“Yeah, show me the money, right? Right?” Billy Catchphrase looked from Tommy to Jenny. “Right? I mean, seriously, is that your final answer?” Billy Catchphrase laughed alone for a solid minute.
Annoyed and confused, but mostly annoyed, Tommy glared at Billy Catchphrase, then asked Jenny, “Wanna get some lunch?”
“Oh yeah!” said Billy Catchphrase, “I’m so hungry I could do rocket surgery! Right? Right? Jenny? Tommy?”
I also have a backup character whose obnoxiousness rivals Billy’s, just in a more understated way. This character is getting benched this time around, because two annoying characters is too much for me to handle in one book.
This character is based on the person who sings to themselves quietly, but not so quietly that no one can hear them. It’s the same song over and over because it’s the only song they can sing well.
Don’t be fooled by their attempts to make themselves appear casual about it, or think they’re so deep in thought that they don’t realize they’re singing. They want people to hear them and they won’t stop the infernal singing until someone asks them what they’re singing or tells them they have a beautiful voice, which is actually just average, but still better than yours. Then they’ll say, “Oh was I singing?”
What a battle of wills this could turn out to be. Imagine: Cube mates, one won’t stop singing, one won’t acknowledge the singing, ending in an all-out brawl over a half-eaten Swiss Cake Roll.
I’m kind of torn now. I like both ideas, so maybe I should just turn this into a choose your own adventure book so readers can decide which character they want to see die at the end. And why aren’t there any choose your own adventure novels for grownups? Someone should definitely write one.
If you like what you’ve read, please recommend so others can see it.
Last week in Drafty — The Scorpion House
Next week — Tragedy at the Little Debbie Factory — A Choose Your Own Adventure Novel
