David Spates "Therefore I Am" Published Jan. 27, 2004

Clichés, tossing coins and noisy chips -- oh my!

So without further ado, let's jump back into the airing of grievances we began last week. Actually, there hasn't been any ado up to this point -- that was just the first sentence. If I'm going to toss around exhausted clichés like "without further ado," I supposed I had better use them accurately.

That's as good a place to start any, I guess. People who speak in a seemingly endless stream of clichés really get on my nerves. I get the sense there's not one original thought bouncing around in their heads, and they rely on worn phrases and hackneyed banter to participate in a conversation.

Some of the clichés I despise the include: happy camper; if it ain't broke don't fix it; greatest thing since sliced bread (I've said for years that sliced bread is highly overrated); been there done that; all the tea in China; go-getter; don't go there; and anyone's daily activities described as a lifestyle.

And then there's the world of sports. I'm baffled every time I see a player or coach talking on TV. Why bother? If you've listened to one player or coach, you've listened to them all. It goes something like this: "He's a physical player who has a real passion for the game. We tried to milk the clock toward the end, but their defense made a stand. It was a pressure-cooker out there, but when they came up with a big heads-up play, it really silenced the crowd. It was a whole new ball game. What can I say? We weren't mentally prepared, and we came out flat. We only have to look in the mirror. The best team won today. We'll have to put this loss behind us. You gotta play 'em one game at a time."

Thanks, coach.

So what else irks me?

People who count out their change by tossing one coin after another on the counter. We've all seen these guys. Allow me to paint the picture. You're in line at the Sack O' Suds, and the man in front of you is buying pork rinds and chocolate milk. The cashier tells him that will be $1.94. The guy lays down a buck, and then digs into his pocket and pulls out a handful of change. Instead of counting out the 94 cents together and handing the coins to the cashier, he throws the individual coins on the counter in the general direction of the helpless cashier.

One quarter ... clink! Another quarter .. clink! One more ... clink! Now a dime ... clink, clink, clink, clink! (That one fell to the floor, but this guy expects the cashier to stoop down and pick it up.) A nickel ... clink! We're getting closer now, just four pennies to go. Clink ... clink ... clink ... clink. There we are -- eight coins spread all over the counter and a dime somewhere on the floor, all of which the clerk is expected to scoop up. Without so much as a "thank you" the guys drops the rest of his coins in his pocket and strolls away with his deep-fried rinds and chocolate milk, feeling like the king of the convenience store.

Here's another one. If a potato chip or tortilla chip is too big to completely fit in your mouth, please break it in half. That's all I'm asking. Some folks will open their mouths wide, in essence forming a sound-amplifying megaphone, and then chomp down on the chip, thereby creating a spine-rattling C-R-U-N-C-H the likes of which set off professional-grade seismographs. No one wants to listen to every crunch of every chip.

It's simple. Open mouth, insert appropriate-sized chip, close mouth, and then chew. Thank you very, very much.

Finally, the last grievance I'd like to air is the habit some people have of saying they dislike something you enjoy.

Here's a real-life example of what I'm talking about: My 2-year-old was eating a small bowl of Mandarin oranges, those little canned orange wedges that come pre-peeled and ready-to-eat. Without anyone soliciting his input, an adult sitting next to her announced, "Uggghhh! I hate Mandarin oranges." My daughter just looked up at me with a confused look.

I try to explain the world as best I can to my kids, but this one confuses me too. It has for decades. First off, who asked you? Is it your habit to notify folks of the things you dislike? Secondly, why would you think we care? How do you expect us to respond? We like Mandarin oranges. I think that's fairly obvious since we're sitting here eating them.

If you were to say you like Mandarin oranges too, then we might have a basis for a meaningful conversation -- we could extoll the virtues and wonderment of Mandarin oranges all the while enjoying can after can. But you don't like them. That's fine, but why tell us when we didn't ask?

That's it. Those are my grievances. I feel better now. If you'd like to tell me about stuff that irks you, I'd love to read it. Maybe I can use them in another column some day. Look below and you'll see my email address.

There. That's plenty of ado for one column.

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David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column is published each Tuesday. He can be reached at davespates@chartertn.net.