Opinion: An airport pickup? Is that worth a 'thank you SO much'?

By Michael Krikorian

July 22, 2023 3 AM PT

So.

Almost 13 years ago I wrote a Times op-ed about the overuse of the word “amazing.” I still get occasional comments about it — usually agreements — and, of course, the clever types who tell me it was “an amazing article.”

Now, an eighth of a century later, I have another word that needs to be retired, or at least sent back to the minors: “So.”

Back in the day, “so” — as in “it was raining, so I put on a trench coat” or “the 110 was a mess, so I took Figueroa” — was a useful transitional word. Never caused problems. Never bothered anyone. It was solid. A word that bridged actions. A turning point. A working man’s “therefore.”

But now “so” has gone Hollywood. It’s phony, insincere, so-so.

It uselessly starts too many sentences: “So how’s the family?” That’s a waste, but it’s not what annoys me.

The problem is its use for emphasis, most often along with its partner in word crime, “much.”

Who says “thank you” anymore? Eight or nine times out of 10 you’re going to get “thank you so much.” For even the slightest bit of courtesy. Hold a door open for someone for a single second and you’ll get it. Pick up any little thing someone drops, you’ll get it. Pass the green beans? Boom.

Some might say that’s being polite. I say it’s diluting the language. TYSM — thank you so much — is the “amazing” of thank yous.

And “so” users aren’t just thankful, they’re compassionate.

A friend of mine posted on Facebook a few weeks ago that a member of his family died, and of the 34 comments — yes, I counted — 28 were “I’m so sorry.” Not one was regular sorry. That might have been read as not that sorry. But add the turbocharger “so,” and wow, you really do care.

“So” is now standard for attractiveness too. Nothing is beautiful anymore. Not that old Craftsman house in West Adams. Not Rembrandt’s “The Raising of Lazarus” at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Not the sun setting over the Manhattan Beach pier. Not the Watts Towers. Not even a shiny dark purple eggplant at the Von’s on Sunset near Virgil. They are so beautiful instead.

And nothing is regular good either: “That Chalupa Supreme tastes so good.”

How can an eggplant and, say, Yosemite Valley (which really is so beautiful) get the same rating? Or a Taco Bell treat versus the “five ages of Parmigiano-Reggiano” dish at Osteria Francescana in Modena, Italy? If everything is so good and so beautiful, nothing is.

This “so” business has come on strong for me while I’ve been vacationing in Umbria, north of Rome, with my girlfriend. We were expecting visitors flying in from California, with two kids. Their plane from Los Angeles was diverted to Cleveland for hours, and they were stressed big time. (So stressed?) When they finally got rebooked and back on their way to Italy, I offered to pick them up at Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci Aeroporto, in the suburb of Fiumicino.

It was two and a half hours to Fiumicino and two and a half hours back. At the airport, I waited another two hours while the family went through customs and got their baggage.

They were wiped out, in need of a cappuccino and grateful for the pickup. “Thank you so much,” they said.

OK, I get that TYSM. It was a long day for me too.

But back in Umbria — which is regular beautiful, by the way — I went to a supermarket and called to see if anything was needed at the house. Bananas for the kids, their mother said. I got a bunch. Cost a tad over 1 euro. Guess what I got in return: Thank you so much.

A buck and a quarter for some bananas and a seven-hour Umbria-Fiumicino-Umbria mission get the same appreciation? Sorry — but not so sorry — that’s gratitude inflation.

So (in its old transitional form) the next time someone does something regular nice — like holding open a door for you or handing you a banana — give them a regular thank you or even a plain old thanks. “So” deserves a break.

Save the TYSM for when you get pulled out of Beirut or Kabul. Or jolted with the Heimlich maneuver just in the nick of time.

Or picked up at the airport.

Michael Krikorian is a former Times staff writer. KrikorianWrites.com