By Elaine Viets
New words are multiplying faster than mosquitoes in a Michigan summer. I mean “official” new words. The ones enshrined in a dictionary.
New words are a sign that English is a living, active language. This year, the Merriam Webster Collegiate dictionary added some 5,000 new words and a thousand new phrases.
Some of us are already using these new words. Take “farm-to-table,” which Webster says means food that is “sourced locally and served directly to customers. Old news.
Here are a few other new words and phrases I’m pretty sure you already know:
“Cold brew” is coffee “made by steeping grounds in cold or room temperature water.” That phrase has been around for so long, Starbucks has about nine different cold brew flavors.
“Hard pass,” means not just no, but hell no. Excuse me, it’s a “firm rejection.”
Here’s one new word I’m not familiar with: “petrichor,” which is a “distinctive, earthy, usually pleasant odor that is associated with rainfall especially when following a warm, dry period . . .” I didn’t realize there was a word to describe that smell.
The Oxford English Dictionary has added another definition of the noun “goo”: “characteristic babbling noises or vocalizations made by babies and by people interacting with them.” The OED reminded us to check out “goo-goo,” which has a similar definition for baby noises.
“Para-athlete, a physically disabled athlete,” is another already familiar OED addition.
And every TKZ reader and writer knows about the dreaded phrase “plot hole.”
The OED likes to add foreign words familiar to many English speakers, including “pobrecita.” The OED says, “Among Hispanic Americans and in Spanish or Latin American contexts” it’s “a poor or unfortunate girl or woman, especially one who deserves pity or sympathy…”
“Perreo” is defined as “a type of dance originating and popular in Puerto Rico and usually performed to reggaeton music, typically characterized by a female dancer . . .” I’ll stop there. The rest of the entry is a bit spicy, especially for the venerable OED.
The most puzzling word of the year is Dictionary.com’s choice of “67” or “6-7.”
That word has been driving teachers crazy. When they tell their class to “turn to page 67,” or ask students to recite numbers one through ten, “six-seven” can cause pandemonium.
Avoiding ’67’ can be a mark of respect. TKZ reader Alan Portman said, “I was at a class last week. The instructor stopped saying 6 or 7 things and started saying 8. There were several middle school teachers in the room.”
What’s it mean?
Dictionary.com, which nominated “67,” isn’t sure.
“Perhaps the most defining feature of ‘67’ is that it’s impossible to define,” the site said. “It’s meaningless, ubiquitous, and nonsensical. In other words, it has all the hallmarks of brainrot. It’s the logical endpoint of being perpetually online, scrolling endlessly, consuming content fed to users by algorithms trained by other algorithms. And what are we left with in the wake of this relentless sensory overload? ‘67.’”
Don’t underate the power of “67.”
“ . . .it remains meaningful to the people who use it because of the connection it fosters. ‘67’ shows the speed at which a new word can rocket around the world as a rising generation enters the global conversation.”
Six-seven (never sixty-seven) belongs to Gen Alpha, mostly children born from 2010 to the present, though I doubt many babies care about 6-7.
SlangSphere.com gave an erudite explanation. It said, “Simply put, ‘67’ is a slang term that means ‘kill,’ or more broadly, to get rid of, drop, or even ‘leave’ something or someone. . . If someone tells you to ‘67 that plan,’ they mean scrap it.”
The article also has helpful hints on how to use 67:
“Do: Use it with close friends or in casual texting where informal slang is welcome.
“Do: Keep it light and playful—this is slang, not a serious threat.
“Don’t: Use it in professional or formal settings—your boss might get confused (or alarmed).
“Don’t: Use it toward strangers or in sensitive contexts—tone can get lost.
“Do: Use 67 when you want to sound casual and meme-savvy.
“Don’t: Panic if someone says ‘67’ to you. It’s slang, not actual harm.
“Do: Pair it with an emoji to soften the tone, like 😂 or 👋.
“Don’t: Use it to seriously insult someone.
“Do: Remember context is king—know who you’re talking to!
“So, next time you want to digitally ‘kill’ a dull plan or leave a chat dramatically, ‘67’ is your shorthand hero. It’s quirky, a little mysterious, and definitely meme-worthy.”
It’s mysterious, all right. So mysterious, I still can’t figure out if 67 means to kill something, or if it means nothing.
Is it a word with clearly defined rules of etiquette? Or is it a feeling?
67.
Preorder now: “Sex and Death on the Beach,” my new Florida mystery, will be published in paperback Dec. 16. https://tinyurl.com/mrc87fm7
I saw 67 mentioned in a recent NYT daily briefing. I wonder if it will replace 86 for getting rid of something.
I knew 86 as you were barred from a bar, Terry.
That’s where it started, I believe, but expanded.
My British grandmother used to say someone was “at sixes and sevens” if they were confused and didn’t know what to do. Maybe that’s what the OED was when they added “67” ???
Elaine, just read Sex and Death on the Beach. What a hilarious, fun book! You totally nailed the “Florida Man” and “Florida Woman.” Thanks for plenty of LOLs!
And what about all the acronyms?
FOMO – Fear of Missing Out
GOAT – Greatest of All Time
BOGO – Buy One, Get One (free)
YOLO – You Only Live Once
IKR – “I know, right?”
Here’s mine:
SOLO – Stop Outrageous Language Offenses!
GOAT has gotten worn out. Sports commentators have the historical knowledge of a gnat. I saw Bob Gibson and Denny McClain pitch. Who is this Kershaw guy?
Don’t forget Stan Musial, Alan.
I remember that phrase, Debbie.
So glad you enjoyed “Sex and Death on the Beach.”
I live, believe it or not, in Yolo County, California.
You are a brave woman, Alicia.
Good morning everyone! It was me. My youngest child is student teaching in an elementary school. She gets 67ed every day. She lives on Tik Toc and still hates it.
The middle school teachers breaking into a 67 chant did lighten up a pretty somber class. Active Shooter Standard Response Protocol/Standard Reunification Method isn’t a laughing class. But I do now know the 6-7, I mean 8 steps necessary.
Why is six afraid of seven?
Because seven ate nine.
Groan . . .
What a horrible class, Alan. So sorry it’s necessary now. We used to have tornado and nuclear attack drills when I was in school. When I got older I realized ducking and covering under a plywood desk wouldn’t have saved any of us if a nuclear bomb hit.
Wow, Elaine, I didn’t know we create so many words in a year!
I did find a 6 7 explanation at this website: https://www.bark.us/blog/teen-text-speak-codes-every-parent-should-know/
Here’s the explanation: 6 7 — This refers to a lyric in a song that’s used in a video edit of American basketball player LaMelo Ball, who is 6’7″.
I’d never heard of this. Now I know.
I didn’t know about 6-7, either, Deb.
And I’ve also never heard of LaMelo Ball…I’m outta so many loops these days.
🙂
LaMello Ball is a guard for the NBA’s Hornets, Deb, and he happens to be six feet seven.
Thanks for the update, Elaine! I hadn’t heard of 6-7 before, but what a great word to symbolize our times—it’s in the dictionary, but nobody knows what it means. 🙂
Kind of scary, isn’ t it, Kay.
I’ve noticed 6-7 comments under content on YouTube Shorts where changing numbers are part of the screen. Usually, it’s something like “6. 7. Happy sigh.” It’s like a scavenger hunt for Alpha idiots.
As long as they don’t ‘retire’ any words I’m still using!
Hi Elaine,
The first time I saw the word ‘petrichor’ was in 2023. I was writing a memoir of my wife’s first pregnancy then and I found the word suitable to describe one of her cravings. Here:
“By then, I was already used to her strange cravings and needs and had learned not to discourage her whenever she had a need I wasn’t used to. So, I told her that the rain wasn’t too heavy, and I didn’t mind taking her downstairs to feel the drops on her body.
“But she said she didn’t want just any raindrops. Our compound is a floored ground, so it’s not suitable for what she wanted. Rather, she would love to go out on the street where the road wasn’t tarred and the smell of the dust would fill her nose as the rain fell on it.
“A petrichor experience.”
Lovely writing, Stephen. Thanks for stopping by.
A few years ago one my writer friends mentioned how much they liked the word petrichor, and how it captured the sensation of raindrops pitter-patting on surfaces. That mention happened around the time I discovered the EP “Petrichor” by my favorite synthwave group, “Marvel83.” The title track also evokes that feeling, in my mind at least.
I’ve seen 6-7 around a lot this year, but didn’t have any sort of idea about what it meant–thanks for digging into that in today’s excellent post.
What strikes me is the lack of originality in most of these “new words:” farm, to, table, cold, brew, hard, pass, plot, hole. What’s new about these words? Putting words together is called speaking or writing, as the case may be. I’ll give you petrichor. And how many years, or maybe months, do you give 67? Till these kids are in high school, maybe? This old hand in the word business is not impressed. Liz, fighting back
I wouldn’t bother putting 67 in a novel, Liz. It will be forgotten by publication.