I have this tendency to take things people say or write very seriously, mostly because words have such a power over me and I tend to dissect them and examine them like precious jewels. I’ve been like this all my life, to the point where I cannot tell you if this is a side effect of my keen interest in language or if it could be an actual cause of my obsession.  So, misuses make me bat shit crazy, poetry spins my head in all kinds of confusing directions, and sometimes I just mentally ingest things people say or write too literally. 

For example, I remember when I was around six years old, hanging on the step with my mom and some of her lady friends. I noticed they started talking in softer tones, which naturally made me prick up my ears. Then I overheard them say something about the colored people who moved into the neighborhood. That made me go wild. I got so excited and immediately started begging my mother to take me to see the colored people. My mother was mortified, trying to shush me up and calm me down. But, really, how could I remain calm? I just kept pleading with her, because I was beside myself with this amazing news that we had colored people right around the corner. My mind was racing. Were there any purple people? Green? Blue? Were they all one color, or did they have stripes or polka dots in a rainbow of fancy colors? It was all just too exciting!

Well, you can imagine my disappointment when my mom eventually explained to me what my neighbor meant, and these so called “colored people” ended up being just the normal folks I see everyday, our friends even. Still, seems an easy misunderstanding a small child could make, right?

Well, not so long ago my co-worker came into work and started complaining how her neighbor made her late that day. How this neighbor is such a mess, always causing trouble, constantly making a scene, good for nothing, etc. Then she says, “So, this morning she comes out of her house. She was completely stoned to death. She was so…” I never heard what came after this, for I was immediately sick to my stomach. I must have gotten pale or something, because my co-worker asked me if I was alright. All I could say to her was, “OH MY GOD! I didn’t think people still did that sort of thing!”

Ok. So, I felt like a complete idiot when she explained to me that when she said “stoned to death” she meant her neighbor was high on drugs, and not pulverized with stones by an angry mob. I am sure if I had been given another three seconds, I would have realized the figurative meaning behind the phrase. (I can, in part, blame that one on having been traumatized by reading The Lottery at an impressionable age.)

And, let’s not forget my most recent disappointment as a result of misinterpreting a simple sentence.

Anyway, the reason I am telling you these things is because I want you truly understand where I am coming from when I get on my soapbox here. I am extremely sensitive to this sort of stuff and take words very seriously. Therefore, I hope you can forgive me for what I am about to say.  I am very patriotic and love this country. Please do not send me hate mail for criticising one of the most revered documents in our entire history! This is actually a matter of distress for me, not to be taken lightly at all.

I know people play with the English language, getting all fancy smancy with figurative uses, play on words, poetic license and all. But, because of this flaw in me, I just cannot wrap my mind around what I consider to be the biggest collective brain fart of all written history. I simply cannot let this one go. Believe me, I wish I could. Or, better yet, I wish I could travel back in time, dictionary in hand, and just bonk each one of our founding fathers on the head, knocking some sense into them. Because maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t have to cringe and shudder every time I hear this sentence over and over again:

We, the people, in order to form a more perfect union…

UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Please tell me I am not the only person that is struggling with the use of “more perfect” here?  Or tell me that I am just taking this too literally, and I should put my red pen away and get the hell over it already.  Because, for the life of me, I cannot begin to understand how something can be better than perfect.  Unless, of course, perfect does not mean perfect in its literal sense, but instead means almost perfect with some room for improvement. Then, yes, I can see where one would hope to make a more perfect union. If perfect means not perfect after all.

/soapbox