The Ex4mined L1fe: Too Much Time on My Hands (And Apparently, Too Many Words)

I spent ten hours driving over a 36-hour stretch. Those of you who know me understand that it is not just windshield time — that is, thinking time. Dangerous thinking time. Or as Tommy Shaw sang with Styx, “too much time on my hands.”

Some people decompress on long drives.
I apparently write entire blog series in my head. Between great playlists, recapping the KC trip, honoring a fallen friend, reconnecting with grade school and high school classmates, and thanks to Tim O’Boyle, getting a healthy dose of “Vitamin G” and by walking the campus and church that shaped me, my brain was on fire. Posts. Paragraphs. Headlines. Philosophical musings.

If I don’t start typing them soon, they’ll vanish the same way I forget why I walked into the kitchen in the first place. One of those mental drafts kept circling back to something simple:

Words matter.

Recently, I’ve noticed a subtle shift. When I say “Thank you,” I often get an “Of course” instead of “You’re welcome.”

Curiosity got the better of me (as it usually does). When I ask about it, the response is something like, “It’s just what I’ve always said.” But there’s something deeper happening.

Some communication folks suggest that “You’re welcome” can unintentionally minimize the value of what we just gave — as if we were obligated. Phrases like:

“Of course.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“You can always count on me.”

…carry a slightly different weight. They acknowledge generosity. They affirm value. They suggest intention.

Words may seem small, but they shape how the world experiences us. They can elevate our presence — or dilute it.

I’ve believed for years that words matter. In professional settings, I choose mine carefully. I try not to overstate. Not to overpromise. Not to leave openings for regret. Being well-spoken isn’t manipulation; it’s awareness. When we master our words, we influence how the world responds to us.

My mind drifted back to my first principal assignment (2001–2006). My pastor at the time — a gregarious Irishman — used to tell me I needed to “dumb down” my newsletters.

“Sturgill,” he’d say, “people are pulling out a thesaurus to read this. You’re not in West County anymore.”

I was offended. I remember thinking: just because a community isn’t high SES doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of growth. Words stretch us. Exposure stretches us. We rise when challenged.

Which brings me to a kindred spirit: Tony Randall.

He loved words almost as much as acting. He talked about building vocabulary intentionally — chasing new words like treasure. And I get that. Completely.

Words can make us laugh.
Words can make us cry.
Words can send us to war.
Words can make us fall in love.

Rudyard Kipling called words “the most powerful drug of mankind.”

If that’s true, I’m a hopeless addict. And I hope to get you hooked too.

English is staggeringly rich — over a million words. Yet the average adult uses somewhere between 30,000 and 60,000. Imagine the nuance we’re missing. The shades of meaning. The precision.

You can say “sky.” You can say “heaven.” In some languages, that distinction doesn’t even exist.

So how do you grow your vocabulary without sounding like you swallowed a dictionary?

Here’s the simple formula:

Try to get the meaning from context.
Look it up.
Dig into the roots.
Learn the prefixes — they’re cheat codes.
Use the new word immediately.

That’s it. You’re on a treasure hunt now. Before you roll your eyes and accuse me of turning this into an English seminar — this isn’t about sounding smarter. It’s about being clearer. Sharper. More intentional.

Aristophanes said, “By words, the mind is excited, and the spirit elated.”

That was 2,400 years ago in Athens. Still true on a Missouri highway with ten hours and a playlist. So yes — words matter.

What we say. How we say it. What we choose not to say.

And if I’ve learned anything from long drives and longer thoughts, it’s this:

Guard your words. Grow your words.
Because they are building something — whether you mean them to or not.