I
was reading an article the other day about a local baseball park.
Article decided to use the word historic to describe it. And,
nope. Not even close. This particular stadium is so far removed
from historic, it doesn’t qualify for even the most forgiving
or casual references to the idea.
Need
more? The facility is closer to twenty years old than thirty.
In that time, nothing of any significance has really happened
at the place. I believe the organization that calls the complex
home has made the playoffs twice since it opened… that would be
two playoff appearances in more than two decades. Those two appearances
sit atop the accomplishment list for the park, and the team was
swept out of the playoffs on both occasions.
I
could go on, but I don’t want to really identify the specific
place. It’s actually a nice enough spot for attending a game.
I like it just fine. Feels comfortable and welcoming. What was
making me mad was the use of the word historic to describe it.
Now,
I’m not going to go all fancy and formal definition on you. Nor
am I going to pull from a list of terms in a thesaurus. This isn’t
about dictionaries or synonyms. (Although, darn it, synonyms.
Game on my phone. Bad enough to have one y, and I had two. What
the heck was I going to play in my next turn with that? I don’t
think I could have, but synonym, at least it’s nice to know there
might have been something. After all… sorry. Historic. Back to
historic.)
The
idea I want to capture is simply this, the ballpark in question
is a lot of things. Clean. Well-maintained. Even kind of attractive
for a minor league park. A nice environment, so bring the kids.
Ball
game. Hot dogs. Good friends.
Nice
though, however nice it may be, is not historic.
If
this stadium was slated for demolition, there isn’t a massive
group of people that will be telling future generations what it
was like to attend events on the grounds. There is nothing about
it that qualifies it for instant classic status. Nothing so memorable
that everyone holding a ticket stub will be quick to point out
their attendance. Nothing so impressive in design that it redefined
what a sporting event could be. It barely clears the timeframe
of existing for one generation, so it’s not like we’re offering
hushed tones and reverence for a place that dates back a century
and is the last of its times.
While
the use of language… and specifically, the use of individual words…
is something I try to never question for any writer, there are
moments when the impact of use takes over and slams artistic licenses
and freedoms. (Or at least opens them to debate.) What probably
scares me most is that underneath whether it is proper or not,
we might be feeling the initial waves of something that is about
to get a lot worse.
See,
part of the problem is the quick-impression realities of media
today. You want clicks and hits and immediate reactions. You have
a limited space for grabbing attention. You need to use words
that are powerful, while conveying a sense that they are being
used to cover important stuff. For instance (my words): “This
ballpark is historic.”
There
it is. In print, so it must be true. And for many people, especially
those with limited attention spans, it will be accepted at face-value
as fact.
The
more we text and use the limited space on social media posts,
the more this hit-and-run use of words will grow. It will become
more and more common.
Don’t
believe me?
Ok,
when Prince used numbers to spell words, it was artistic, creative
and quirky. Now, thanks to Twitter, it borders on necessity.
We
need to pause for a moment as we head toward wrapping this rant
up. See, I am all for the evolution of language, the use of words,
and the development of communication methods that actually can
be called both new and improved. I believe that rules matter—spelling
counts, folks—but I mainly take from that how it is important
to understand the rules before you can successfully break them.
I am not someone that will be upset by how a preposition is used
at the end of a sentence.
As
a result of evolution and more hitting communication, the way
words are used and the meaning words have will constantly be in
a state of development. I’m fine with that.
What
I want recognized is that the fact-checking, the intent-checking,
the awareness of the reader about what is actually being said,
in so many cases is wrong. And it’s not misinformation wrong.
It’s not lies wrong. It’s find an electric word and run with it
regardless of it not being accurate wrong.
It’s
deceptive.
It’s
manipulative.
It’s
misleading.
And,
it’s historically wrong.