CARLTON FLETCHER: When a perfectly good word goes bad

“So you thought you might like to go to a show.”

— Pink Floyd

All you “Jeopardy! lovers — and who isn’t a “Jeopardy!” lover? — listen during tonight’s (or any night’s) broadcast. It’ll come when whatever vaguely familiar semi-celebrity who’s been chosen to be the Guest Host for the week interviews the contestants.

I’d be willing to bet all the money Joe Namath saves people on their monthly benefits check that, if not all of the contestants, at least two of them start their answer to the semi-celebrity Guest Host’s question about their exciting lives with, “So …”

It’s not just “Jeopardy!” Suddenly, “so” has become the go-to starter of any answer to any question that’s asked. I have a job in which I actually ask people questions for a living, and I’ve gotten to a point where I inwardly shudder every time someone starts off the answer to one of my questions with (big, in-drawn breath …) “So, …”

I think somewhere along the line — and I’ll say here that the most egregious so-sayers are younger professionals who, I’m inclined to think, are trying to be impressive, as if by injecting that pompous “so” into the equation they will be considered somehow more erudite and thoughtful — we’re more and more talking like we tweet. And our discourse pays the price.

(Side note: I’ll admit that I’m being a tad overly sensitive in my criticism, but, as I said, when you do this for a living and you hear it over and over and over — everyone’s on the bandwagon now, even little kids and sweet grandmoms — it tends to stick in your craw. It’s so stuck in mine, I kind of cringe every time I hear it now, and when it’s on TV (“Jeopardy!”), in movies or on the radio, I find myself shouting derogatory words at the persons speaking, even though I really do know they can’t hear me.)

“So” has become the “er … um … like … ya know …” of this generation, an un-needed introduction or fill-in that presupposes the person with whom one is having a conversation is child-like and must be spoken to as such. I’ve become such a so abhorer that I find myself editing it out of copy that comes across my desk.

And I guess I need to throw this in before someone hears me utter an ill-advised “so” in a time of weakness: “So” is a perfectly good word. I’m not saying it should be banned altogether like bastardized abbreviations/deviations — fam, try’nta, veg, bae, cray, jelly (for jealous), totes, ‘K por ejemplo (thanks, Ms. Foley) — I’m just saying that using it to start every answer to every question you’re ever asked does not in even the remotest way make you sound intelligent or worldly. It just makes you sound dull … and, unfortunately, like everyone else.

So there you have it. (This “so” is not just meant to be ironic … it’s actually a use that makes sense.)

Oh, and while I’m at it, I want to get a couple of more things off my chest:

♦ When you provide attribution in a sentence — and this is being picky, I know, but it aggravates me beyond reason — quit writing “said Sally.” Instead, write “Sally said.” No one talks that way. You don’t say — excuse me, normal people don’t say — “Said Sally, ‘Today is Wednesday.’” Instead, we say, “Sally said today is Wednesday.” (I do get that clever people now say, “Said no one ever in existence …” But, again, that’s about as annoying as the overuse of so.)

♦ Can we call it a moratorium on these inane commercials about, “We’re No. 1 in the No. 2 business?” We get it … if your product or service has to do with bodily waste, it’s not exactly easy to talk about it. But, damn, I’ve heard that No. 1 in No. 2 slogan so often lately, it really drives me up the wall. (I know when complaining about such, I should come up with a suitable alternative, but there’s just nothing. You can be clinical or funny, but quit trying to (try’nta) be both. Thank you.)

♦ Note to rude people who call to complain and then hang up on you before you have an opportunity to respond: You kind of negate that old “the customer is always right” saw when you do that. It’s mean-spirited. Stop it.

Thank you for letting me vent. I’m done now.