Chinook
by George Hosier II  - January 14, 2008

Clichés


This New Year, I resolved to use no more clichés. Since my writing is typically picture perfect, I was hard pressed to pinpoint any of my literary shortcomings off the top of my head. My policy has always been, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. However, after mulling it over, I put my finger on the fly in the ointment. At long last, it hit me like a ton of bricks: Every writer drops the ball now and then. The best laid plans of mice and men cannot guarantee that a hackneyed expression will not wreak havoc on an otherwise brilliant essay. Therefore, I am dead set on not using a single cliché in 2008. You can take that to the bank!

The truth be told, a cliché can really rain on a writer’s parade. Take the other day for instance. I had just finished shooting my manuscript off to the Editor of the Delta Wind via email, when my better half showed up as happy as a clam, intending to butter me up for some shopping money. She found me at my computer crying my eyes out.

“Why the long face?” My wife can read me like a book. “A penny for your thoughts.”

“I’m a miserable failure,” I blurted out.

“For Pete’s sake, George,” she intoned, “What’s your major maladjustment? You look like something the cat dragged in. Snap out of it.”

“I’ve hit rock bottom. I’m a lost cause. I think it’s time to throw in the towel.”

“You wanna run that by me again? Just get down to brass tacks and spell it out for me.”

“I’m a dead man. I found a cliché in my article after it went to press. My goose is cooked.”

“Do you have a loose screw somewhere? It’s not the end of the world. Don’t sell yourself short. Look on the bright side--nobody’s perfect. Finding a flaw in your writing is like searching for a needle in a haystack. If your readers don’t like it, they can lump it.”

“That’s easy for you to say. This has really taken the wind out of my sails. My writing is going from bad to worse. It’s all downhill from here.”

“Hey,” She barked, “It’s just one of those things. Stop crying over spilled milk. You act like you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. Look on the bright side. It could be worse.”

My wife doesn’t mince words. She can make a mountain out of a molehill. Sometimes she gets so full of herself that she goes out of the way to read me the riot act. When she gets on a roll, she can really drive me batty. In a worse case scenario, she’s been know to fly off the handle and gives me the old one two. I decided to nip it in the bud and let sleeping dogs lie. I pulled myself together and forced a smile.

“You’re right on the money. What was I thinking? I suppose it just comes with the territory. Let the chips fall where they may. I guess I’ll keep a stiff upper lip and roll with the punches. Life can’t always be a bowl of cherries.”

My wife beamed in relief. “Atta boy! Give it all you’ve got and you can write your own ticket. The sky’s the limit.”

I tried to smooth her ruffled feathers. “I don’t know how to thank you. You made my day.”

“Don’t mention it. All in a day’s work.”

“If you ever need anything...”

“Funny you should ask. I don’t have a red cent, and I need to make a store run. We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

Now the shoe was on the other foot. She had been lording it over me, acting like she was holier than thou. Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. It was time to play hardball. In no uncertain terms I laid it on the line: “I don’t buy that. Every time I turn around you’re shopping like there’s no tomorrow. Do you think money grows on trees?”

“Now wait just a second...”

“I work my fingers to the bone to bring home the bacon, but money just burns a hole in your pocket!”

“What are you driving at? That door can swing both ways! There’s no such thing as a free lunch. I lead a dog’s life, trying to make ends meet, while you eat us out of house and home. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

“Hey, hold your horses! You’re on thin ice, now.”

“Get off my back! I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you all the time. Let me tell you a thing or two. I wasn’t born yesterday. Who died and made you king?”

“That was a cheap shot. I never claimed to be a saint. I know it goes against your grain, but if you’d let me get a word in edgewise, I’d make it crystal clear that you can’t get blood out of a turnip.”

“I don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

“That figures! You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“What’s your point?”

“Waste not, want not. You reap what you sow. Now it’s time to pay the piper. You’re just going to have to tighten your belt and bite the bullet until our ship comes in.”

“This is a fine kettle of fish! I don’t have two nickels to rub together but you expect me to wave a magic wand and make home sweet home out of thin air!”

“Why can’t you just leave well enough alone? Be thankful for small blessings. We don’t have to keep up with the Joneses. A penny saved is a penny earned.”

“You’re just a tightwad. I can only stretch a dollar so far. If you were worth your salt, you’d get a real job instead of making me eke out a meager existence on a shoestring budget.”

I felt like a frog in a frying pan. Now the old ball and chain was trying to get my goat by hitting me where it hurt! She will stop at nothing to turn the tables on me just as slick as you please. I was at a loss for words, but, not to be outdone, with a show of bravado I let her have it: “Oh, go fly a kite!” No sooner were the words out of my mouth then I knew it was a flimsy excuse for a one-liner. I was painfully aware that I was grasping at straws, but a more witty repartee escaped me.

She, on the other hand, was just getting started. “Fine! I’m tired of beating my head against the wall. If you want to live in a pigsty, suit yourself! No skin off my nose! You’ve made your bed, how you can lie in it. ”

I could see I was spinning my wheels. This was going nowhere fast. I took a different tack. “Chill out. There’s no need to get all bent out of shape. While there’s life, there’s hope. I’ll turn over a new leaf. God willing and the creek don’t rise, the chance of a lifetime will come out of nowhere when we least expect it. Then I’ll seize the opportunity and bounce back. Believe it or not, we’ll be cradled in the lap of luxury, and you’ll be singing all the way to the bank. Where there’s a will there’s a way. Just bide your time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

My wife was taking it with a grain of salt. “When pigs fly! You’re not exactly making money hand over fist.” She looked daggers at me. If looks could kill, I’d be as dead as a doornail. “Mark my words. We’ll end up in the poor house.”

“I swear on my mother’s grave. By hook or by crook, I’ll eat my hat if we’re not sitting on the top of the world in due time. Then you’ll be riding the gravy train and all our troubles will be over.”

She gave me the cold shoulder. “Put your money where your mouth is. The ball’s in your court.”

Without further ado we parted ways. I sure wish she’d give me a little elbowroom. It all started out so innocent, but things just went from bad to worse. I’m clueless why every time we have a heart to heart it ends up on a sour note. I guess my wife has to let off a little steam now and then, but I’m at a loss to explain why we can’t kiss and make up—clear the air—put our best foot forward and let bygones be bygones.

Oh, well, there’s no sense beating a dead horse, but at least there’s a silver lining to every cloud. I may not be able to put a round peg in a square hole, but I can at least get my own ducks in a row. Even if my wife is a lost cause, I take comfort in knowing that when push comes to shove I can take the bull by the horns and be my own man! Come rain or shine, I’ve drawn a line in the sand. Nothing I publish in 2008 will contain a cliché, and that’s the naked truth. So just put that in your pipe and smoke it.

How many cliché’s can you find in this article? Count them and e-mail your total to dotlaker@yahoo.com, or snail mail them to George Hosier, Box 1003, Delta Junction, AK, 99737. Include your e-mail address or a Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope, and I will send you the correct answer along with an original poem written and signed by me. Happy New Year, everyone!

 

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