Every walk of life has its own slang, near and dear to the hearts of those in the group that use it. For those in the know, it can make you feel part of the gang, one of the cool kids. But what happens when slang gets confused with, well, not slang? When what you think is an "in" term for something turns out to be understood that way by only half the parties involved? As they say in the theater, hijinks can abound.
For me, that lighting struck three times in recent weeks.
In the first instance I was working on a project where an audience of about 150 people were listening to a guest speaker. The head of the company sponsoring the program was sitting in the front row. The plan was that when the guy on stage finished, the CEO would pop up, thank him and send the crowd to lunch. As such I had a tech stationed near the front with a microphone for when needed.
As the speaker droned on I looked away for a few moments to check on something else. Then I heard him wrap up and applause begin. I looked up to see the CEO heading the stage, looking for the mic. Where was my guy? He had been there moments ago. Suddenly he raced over breathlessly and handed over the mic. "Where were you?" I asked him over the intercom. "Putting out a fire," he replied. That normally means dealing with an unforeseen problem. But what could have been so important? I asked again and got the same reply: "I was putting out a fire." Starting to get annoyed, I asked a third time, to which he responded "I WAS PUTTING OUT A FIRE. LOOK IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM!" I turned around to see smoke. Seems the Sterno under the coffee pot at the back had spilled and the tablecloth had gone up in flames. He was, well, putting out an actual fire.
Then a week or so later as we were setting up a show in a theater. The lead sound guy was walking up the steps, following the path of his snake. Sort of slang, a snake is a bundle of cables bound together as opposed to running individual ones, a very common piece of equipment in the audio department. He took a step, then suddenly screamed and jumped away. We all looked up, as he yelled "Snake!" Puzzling. Yes, he was walking along his snake,. Again he yelled "Snake!" I said "Yeah? Your snake is right there." "NO!" he yelled. "THERE'S A SNAKE!" We all ran over to see a 4 foot black snake that had somehow crawled in an open door and was making its way up the cables. And because it was an audio guy that yelled it, none of us thought it was him talking about anything other than his gear.
And it was but a week later that I received an email from a client answering a bunch of questions about an upcoming show. Yes, we would need a teleprompter, yes, would need a transcript of the program, and yes, we would need a doghouse. In our world, the last refers to a monitor placed low in front of the speakers so they can see any visuals being displayed. We enclose it to make it less visible, hence the name. Moments later came another email from the person responsible for the set. "Do we know what breed dog Mark has? In searching images on Google, we see a Labrador, but it looks dated. We want to be sure we have the right sized house." Now, our speaker Mark was indeed blind, so it was possible he had a dog, and it needed a place to stay. I quickly called the client to see if this was the case. No I was told, why do you ask? "Read the last email," I said. It took a minute until she pulled it up and starting howling. She hung up and called the set folks, and assured them no animals would be harmed nor housed on this particular show.
Can happen anywhere, anytime. Is flossing something you do to your teeth or a dance step? Is a GOAT a loser of the Greatest Of All Time? Bae? Woke? If none of this makes any sense, well, Bye Felicia.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford loves language, proper and otherwise. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
For me, that lighting struck three times in recent weeks.
In the first instance I was working on a project where an audience of about 150 people were listening to a guest speaker. The head of the company sponsoring the program was sitting in the front row. The plan was that when the guy on stage finished, the CEO would pop up, thank him and send the crowd to lunch. As such I had a tech stationed near the front with a microphone for when needed.
As the speaker droned on I looked away for a few moments to check on something else. Then I heard him wrap up and applause begin. I looked up to see the CEO heading the stage, looking for the mic. Where was my guy? He had been there moments ago. Suddenly he raced over breathlessly and handed over the mic. "Where were you?" I asked him over the intercom. "Putting out a fire," he replied. That normally means dealing with an unforeseen problem. But what could have been so important? I asked again and got the same reply: "I was putting out a fire." Starting to get annoyed, I asked a third time, to which he responded "I WAS PUTTING OUT A FIRE. LOOK IN THE BACK OF THE ROOM!" I turned around to see smoke. Seems the Sterno under the coffee pot at the back had spilled and the tablecloth had gone up in flames. He was, well, putting out an actual fire.
Then a week or so later as we were setting up a show in a theater. The lead sound guy was walking up the steps, following the path of his snake. Sort of slang, a snake is a bundle of cables bound together as opposed to running individual ones, a very common piece of equipment in the audio department. He took a step, then suddenly screamed and jumped away. We all looked up, as he yelled "Snake!" Puzzling. Yes, he was walking along his snake,. Again he yelled "Snake!" I said "Yeah? Your snake is right there." "NO!" he yelled. "THERE'S A SNAKE!" We all ran over to see a 4 foot black snake that had somehow crawled in an open door and was making its way up the cables. And because it was an audio guy that yelled it, none of us thought it was him talking about anything other than his gear.
And it was but a week later that I received an email from a client answering a bunch of questions about an upcoming show. Yes, we would need a teleprompter, yes, would need a transcript of the program, and yes, we would need a doghouse. In our world, the last refers to a monitor placed low in front of the speakers so they can see any visuals being displayed. We enclose it to make it less visible, hence the name. Moments later came another email from the person responsible for the set. "Do we know what breed dog Mark has? In searching images on Google, we see a Labrador, but it looks dated. We want to be sure we have the right sized house." Now, our speaker Mark was indeed blind, so it was possible he had a dog, and it needed a place to stay. I quickly called the client to see if this was the case. No I was told, why do you ask? "Read the last email," I said. It took a minute until she pulled it up and starting howling. She hung up and called the set folks, and assured them no animals would be harmed nor housed on this particular show.
Can happen anywhere, anytime. Is flossing something you do to your teeth or a dance step? Is a GOAT a loser of the Greatest Of All Time? Bae? Woke? If none of this makes any sense, well, Bye Felicia.
-END-
Marc Wollin of Bedford loves language, proper and otherwise. His column appears regularly in The Record-Review, The Scarsdale Inquirer and online at http://www.glancingaskance.blogspot.com/, as well as via Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter.
No comments:
Post a Comment