A Word, Please: A TSA encounter that didn’t go very well

I could hear the TSA agent from way back in the line. “I’m well, thank you,” he said to one woman as he checked her boarding pass. “I’m well, and you?” he said to the next traveler who was polite enough to inquire. A minute later, he mentioned that he was still, in fact, well.

For someone with such a tedious job, he was surprisingly friendly and upbeat. But more than that, he was well. Well, well, well.

I harbor a sort of secret solidarity with anyone who has to stay alert while performing a brain-numbing task. I’m a proofreader. So I know what it’s like to stand vigilant guard against evil-doers like comma splices and the dreaded dangling participle.

That’s why I sometimes try to break up these workers’ monotony with just a wee bit of supplemental chat (yeah, I’m that person). Usually it’s just an observation about the weather or how sleepy I’m feeling or the glamour shot that is my passport photo.

But on my recent trip through Los Angeles International Airport, I saw a rare opportunity to say something that actually might be of interest. Perhaps helpful. Maybe even life-changing.

I approached the guard, greeted him and learned that he was, in fact, still well. I took that as my cue: “Actually, did you know that while ‘well’ is more proper, the dictionary also allows ‘good’ to mean ‘in good health’? So you can use either ‘well’ or ‘good’ and still be correct.”

Now, I learned years ago that people don’t appreciate it when you correct their grammar. Even the friends who say they want their grammar mistakes pointed out end up thanking you in short grunts through gritted teeth.

But this wasn’t correcting someone’s grammar. It seemed quite the opposite: Instead of placing restrictions on someone’s usage, I was lifting one — liberating this poor man from the oppression of formal English. How could he be anything short of delighted?

Well, he was short of delighted. Very short, in fact.

The warm smile he’d proffered to so many passengers before me melted. His up-lilting speech took a sharp turn to the south.

“Oh, yeah? Uh huh.” Brow furrowed, he looked me over carefully, as if considering whether to put me on the do-not-fly list. Then he handed me my passport and turned his attention to the next person in line.

The way I figure it, one of three things was going on there. Either he didn’t want someone devaluing his proper speech. Or he didn’t feel like being schooled on any subject. Or I look like a bomb-toting jihadist in a blond wig. Logic suggests it’s one of those first two, but the contempt emanating from this man almost makes me believe the latter.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Don’t go around trying to school people about language in general or “well” in particular. Which brings us to this week’s lesson: how to use “well.”

The most important thing to know about “well” is that it’s not only an adverb. It’s also an adjective. As an adjective, its definition overlaps with that of “good,” which as we saw above can mean in good health.

Adverbs are trickier. If someone asks how you’re doing, an adverb modifies that verb: “I’m doing well.” But when someone asks “How are you?” you’re modifying a noun, yourself. Adjectives, not adverbs, modify nouns. So when you say you are well, you’re using a different part of speech than when you say you’re doing well.

“Good” is a lot less good as an adverb. So saying “I’m doing good” is less proper and more frowned-upon than saying “I am good.” No, that doesn’t only mean you’re skilled at something. It can also mean that your health is good. And if you want to remain in good health, don’t bother explaining that to TSA agents.

JUNE CASAGRANDE is the author of “The Best Punctuation Book, Period.” She can be reached at JuneTCN@aol.com.