The Old Coot nominates his own ‘Word of the Year’

The “Word of the Year” for 2021 was “Vaccine.” In 2020, it was “Pandemic.” In 2013 it was “Selfie.” Merrian-Webster, Oxford Dictionary and other Lexicographers select the word. Sometimes they agree; sometimes they don’t. 

I have no idea what criteria they use to pick it, even after going to their websites to get an explanation. The Oxford Dictionary explanation claimed their “… lexicographers dug into their English language corpus data, blah, blah, blah.” It stopped me right there; I was over my head. I had no idea what they were talking about. 

Most of us think the word of the year is a word spoken more than any other, often a new one. Vaccine, Pandemic, and Selfie all fit that criterion, and you don’t need a team of lexicographers and corpus data to make the selection.   

Those may be words spoken the most by the general population, but they aren’t the words used by the people I hang out with. The word of the year for my old coot species is “Remember.” We don’t have a conversation without it popping up every few minutes. 

“I went to that new restaurant the other day; I can’t remember the name but ….” – or – “I saw that guy who used to have coffee with us a few years ago, “I can’t remember his name, …..”

 Can’t remember – Can’t remember – Can’t remember. 

The second most used word among old coots is “Memory.” It usually follows one of those, “I can’t remember,” sentences. – My memory is shot. – I have no memory anymore. – I lost my memory years ago. 

The trouble is, the use of these words is filtering down to younger and younger groups of people. The memory starts going bad as you get into your 50’s. A little scary at first, but then you get used to it; by the time you get to old coot age, you take it for granted that you won’t remember just about anything with a name – a person, a place or a thing. Your vocabulary is speckled with – What’s-his-name – Thing-a-ma-jig – Watch-ya-call-it, and the like. 

Some old guys get so frustrated when their memory cells won’t provide a lost name that they stop dead in their tracks. Us well-seasoned old coots get around that problem by faking it, inserting any name, knowing the rest of the group won’t know the difference; their memories are shot.

If you’re in your 40’s, 50’s or 60’s and are worried about your memory, don’t worry; eventually you won’t remember that you can’t remember!