Paltry

I had lunch recently with my good friend - let's call her Hepzibah, for she is, forsooth, an old fashioned sort - who told me that she had been reproved at work for using the word "paltry" in a client communication.

No, Hepzibah had not used the word incorrectly, or in any way that could be construed as insulting or demeaning to the client, client company, or client products. She was merely using the paltry word in a paltry way, letting her client know that something about something was, in fact, paltry.

"They won't know what you're talking about," Hepzibah was told. "Nobody uses that word."

As it turns out, somebody actually does use that word, and that somebody was Hepzibah's client, as Hepzibah learned when she received a missive from said client - let's call her Hortense, for she is, forsooth, an old fashioned sort - which contained the very word "paltry."

This was not, in fact, a set-up on Hepzibah's part. She had not conspired with Hortense to put the word in play.

(Ya know how sometimes it happens? Well, it happened.)

In a light-hearted way, Hepzibah showed the client missive to her supervisor - let's call him Brandon, cuz he's, you know, a regular guy, even if he is, like, a brainiac dude with a degree from a college that most folks would be happy to get a fat envelope from come April 15th.

Alas, the missive was dismissed.

"Big deal," Hepzibah was told, "All that shows is that it's okay to use that word with someone your own age."

And we know what a dying breed they are in the workplace. (Hepzibah is, in fact, several years younger than I am.)

Now the word "paltry" is hardly in the league with those pesky big words that make me head for the dictionary every time I want to use them and can't quite remember if I've got the meaning right. Words like inchoate, labile, and protean. (These are words I always want to use somewhere, somehow, but never do. When I see them in writing, I usually get what they mean from the context.)

No, paltry, I would hazard, is a word that would be understood by all but the paltry few.

Hepzibah went on to tell me that, when she'd used the expression, "The best laid plans of mice and men," one of her colleagues looked at her quizzically and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Oooo-kay.

I confess: I'm a snob and a curmudgeon, and things are getting worse the older and fogier I get.
But are we at the point now in the workplace where the only words we can use are from the basal reader, the only allusions drawn from pop ephemera? (Forget 'does Macy's tell Gimble?' It's 'does Brangelina tel Tom kat?")

I was going to end with, well, "Call me Ishmael."

But OMG, that would be so wrong.

So I'll close with something that's more universally understood and appreciated:

D'oh!