I love words.
Any words that don’t violate too many social norms.
Yet one word seems to be taking over the English language.
And it’s not love.
It’s “hey.”
Hey, how are you?
Hey, what’s up?
Hey.
Hey, you okay?
I’m not even sure “hey” has a definition anymore. Maybe it means everything, which is convenient because everything else has gotten expensive. Perhaps we’re rationing words.
I can picture myself at the grocery store meat counter. The clerk approaches and says, “Hey.”
I reply, “Hey.”
A minute later, I walk away with two pounds of ground chuck. No further discussion required.
Or I visit the doctor with a sinus infection. He walks in and says, “Hey.”
I say, “Hey.”
Ten minutes later, I leave with a prescription.
Can you imagine if someone typed every word we spoke in a day? “Hey” would appear so often the transcript would resemble a malfunctioning telegraph.
My grandmother Ruth would have boxed my ears about the third time I said it to her.
I don’t recall “hey” being in her vocabulary. She believed people had names, and none of them was Hey.
Two words she did use — with varying degrees of intensity — were “Steven Dean.”
Spoken gently, they meant she wanted my attention.
“STEVEN DEAN!” meant negotiations had ended.
There was no ambiguity.
To Grandma Ruth, hay was something cows ate, not a substitute for conversation.
Now, someone enters the office break room and says, “Hey.”
Eight coworkers answer, “Hey.”
Communication complete.
Two friends can meet, exchange a “hey,” and stand silently for 20 minutes. Then one says, “Hey, good seeing you.”
“Hey, yeah. Good catching up.”
Nothing was actually caught up, but courtesy has been observed.
Maybe “hey” is the signal for brevity. It says, “I acknowledge your existence, but I also have important nothing to get back to.”
Imagine the president beginning a fireside chat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the president of the United States.”
The camera tightens on his face. He looks solemnly into the lens.
“Hey. How ya doing?”
Somehow, I think approval ratings might improve.
“Hey” even works romantically.
You’re in bed with your sweetheart, feeling affectionate.
You say, “Hey.”
She says, “Hey.”
The lights go out.
Maybe our thumbs caused all this. We spend so much time speaking through phone keypads that our mouths have forgotten how to begin a sentence. While the brain recalculates, “hey” slips out.
It is the human voice’s spinning loading circle.
Still, maybe “hey” deserves more credit.
Hey can show concern.
Hey can offer forgiveness — or warn that forgiveness is not currently available.
Hey can express compassion.
Hey can even convey love.
At my funeral, I may ask the minister to deliver one final message on my behalf.
He’ll step to the microphone and say, “Steven asked me to leave you with one word.”
Then he’ll pause.
“Hey.”
And the three people attending my funeral will reply in unison:
“Hey.”
Nobody will know exactly what was said.
But somehow, everyone will understand.
— Steven Arkema
Steven Arkema is a retired correctional counselor and lifelong Iowan who writes personal humor about aging, family and the everyday situations that remind us not to take ourselves too seriously. He lives in Knoxville, Iowa, where his dog, Darby, provides both companionship and occasional column material.