I have been thinking lately about words and how they fit into our world of communication. My 24-year-old son, Sean, tells me I need a college course in texting so he can make sense of what I’m trying to say when I speak with my fingers. On self-examination—and the evidence before me—I have to plead guilty as charged.
I have had numerous people tell me they don’t understand my email. It has been pointed out to me, mostly by my editor, that I have a “Joe Dunne mind speak” when I hastily shoot out emails. Again, guilty.