Monday, September 25, 2006

I'd Like a Word With You

We've all heard the expression, "A picture is worth a thousand words" many times in our lives, but I've never really subscribed to the math. I suppose it all depends upon the picture. For example, if you show me a picture of a corn chip, I might max out around 600 words. 800 if it's barbecue. On the other hand, show me a picture of a monkey wearing a Def Leppard concert T-shirt while trying to pick up nerdy chicks in the hotel corridor outside of a Star Trek convention, and I'm fairly confident I could pump out 1,500...2,000 if he's wearing "Vulcan" ears and giving the "live long and prosper" hand jive.

But, you know, maybe all of those cliché-hounds should take another look at that expression. Maybe, just maybe, a word is worth a thousand pictures.

Now, don't try to get me in trouble with the Picture Lobby. I have nothing against them and their pork barrel word worths. It just seems to me that a thousand words was too tidy a sum. A hundred words would be selling it short. With the exception of Jessica Simpson, Bluetooth technology and reality programs, practically everything is worth at least 100 words. Saying a picture is worth 500 words is a little too precise, like you're getting a bit cutesy and should be shaved down and have someone put cosmetics on your ass. A thousand words just FEELS like the right amount. Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Too cumbersome to say. A million words? Now you're sounding like Dr. Evil. How about a billion words? Well, hell, if you're going to say a billion, why not say a cajillion? An ecky-ecky-ecky-swoomvillion? Infinity? I swear, if someone said that to me, I would have jacked them up and given them the mother of all Indian burns.

Think about it. Mention the word "grandmother." Tell me you don't immediately get the impression in your head of sweet little grandma, scuttling around her kitchen trying to stuff one last meatball into your gullet, rehashing stories of the Old Country, and teaching you how to play Keno. For those of us lucky enough to have known our grandparents, whether they are still with us today or not, just the word "grandmother" or "grandfather" can let loose a deluge of shimmering memories. Like someone on a 1970s game show, you reach out and grab as many memories as you can while they all fly and swirl around you in the money tank. Only this time, you're not stuffing dollar bills into your terrycloth tube top or your Rayon silk shirt. Remember when your grandfather would tell you stories about guys he knew in the war? How about helping him pick the tomatoes in his little corner garden? Or when you went to or watched the ball game together? And honestly - could anyone lay on a hug like your grandmother?

Try it yourself. There is an endless ocean of words, in every language known to mankind. Words like "marriage," "vacation" and "family" can generate a multitude of positive images (or negative images, depending upon which stage of your life you are in). Maybe something as innocuous as the word "key" can light the fuse for you. You imagine a key in your mind. Maybe it's to your first house. Maybe it's to the beach house you used to share with friends during the summer. Maybe it's a car key. Maybe your first car. After flashing on that moment for a while, maybe you get to thinking about your friend's car, and how cool it looked. Remember when you and your friends went driving in the valley that one night, and you parked by the big rope swing that hung from the oak tree? Remember everybody taking turns swinging on the rope and splashing into the creek? Remember that guy or gal you really liked who showed up with their friends too? Remember the tunes playing from one of the cars and the sound of aluminum cans being crushed after consumption? Remember having that first kiss that night from someone you used to daydream about during social studies class? A thousand pictures, right? Probably more. All from one word that doesn't even play a part in the end memory - "key."

Here's another exercise for you. Try following the same string to a different destination with an abstract word such as "love." You're more apt to imagine examples of love. Maybe an image of a little boy giving a girl a daisy or two senior citizens walking in the park still holding hands after all these years. You might even conjure up a past relationship or two in your mind; however, it's just not the same, is it? A word of something tangible can click the tumblers in motion from the inside, and the images you get are fuller, richer and much more meaningful than an abstract word like "love," which then forces you to find definition rather than uncovering a heartfelt memory.

And these memories are all around you. You don't have to look far. Maybe you hear a name on television or the radio that reminds you of a friend you had in school that you haven't talked to in years - someone who used to be your best friend. Follow the "key." Follow not the picture, but the frame. Hell, follow the damned toaster! Reach back and remember from time to time. They're YOUR images. You're allowed.

For you see, a word can be worth more than a thousand pictures - it can be worth a thousand memories, as well.