A friend wrote me recently and said she really liked my column.
Actually, she said “I (was) a riot!”
A riot? She has no idea! I was here for the South Central Riots of 1992(ish). That was a real riot. Looting burning gunshots curfew escape from Los Angeles. A laugh a minute.
It’s such a strange expression. In what way is a “riot” funny? And that’s not the only example of a phrase gone awry. When did “wicked” become a good thing? “Heinous”? “Awesome”? Or even just “bad”?
I liked it so much better when the kids made up silly words to mean good: “groovy,” “tripendicular” and “tubular,” for example.
I appreciate being a riot, but the pressure to maintain such a high standard is murder, I’m telling you.
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