According to unreliable sources, the first man's first words were, "Madam, I'm Adam." Since then, language has been like that palindrome: the optimists can read its messages forward, the pessimists backward. In 1977 American English gave both groups plenty of opportunity. The air was saturated with recent coinages ("reverse discrimination," "mainstreaming," "ten-four, good buddy"). Some phrases enriched the nation's tongue; many impoverished it with jargon and meaningless terms. For words are like prescription lenses; they obscure what they do not make clear. This year the Washington Star had no trouble finding examples that blurred. In a section labeled "Gobbledygook," the newspaper offered a daily $10 prize for the worst phrase of the day. Sample from the U.S. Labor Department: "No lost time injuries that do not result in a medical expense should not be reported to the OWCP." Those who believe that Babel can be located somewhere south of Sacramento have derived aid and discomfort from Richard Rosen's new volume, Psychobabble. On the downhill arc of the Me Decade, Rosen split an infinitive and savages cant as he collects "psychological patter, whose concern is to faithfully catalogue the ego's condition." Examples: "Very laid back," "I know where you're coming from" and "Go with the flow." Rosen was abetted by Novelist Cyra McFadden (The Serial), a resident of Marin County, where, she claims, such "mindless prattle" rises before it heads East to become a major polluter. Her prototype Of the Bay Area language abuser is a student to whom she assigned a Ray Bradbury short story. "I can't relate to the dude," he complained. Hade he read the piece? Actually, no, he admitted, "I just flashed on it."
In the solecism sweepstakes, television maintained its undisputed lead. Those who wanted weathermen to stop misusing a word ("Hopefully it'll be a good weekend") were left hopeless. Connoisseurs of outrageous grammar once relished close encounters of the Susskind. In 1977 Howard Cosell became the new favorite. "Our surmisal is correct" was one of many errors produced by the World Series; so was an "instrumentality of destruction" (a smoke bomb). Cosell's colleagues relayed his throes: "The Chiefs went into the game overwhelming underdogs"; "The player is loaded with inexperience."
If the past year is any indication, aggressions on the field will cease long before announcers stop doing violence to language. When they do, ungrammatical sign makers will doubtless be hard at work. As they did in 1977, chain stores will offer "bargain's" and "giant sales" will not have a single giant to sell. Banks will still offer their tautological "free gifts." Perhaps the year's weirdest notice was spotted in a Toledo restaurant: "Shirts, socks and shoes must be worn to be served."