associations

In theory all hackneyed expressions are by definition abhorrent. In practice, however, not only do some offend me unequally, but a few I even like. As a proud Freudian I attribute everything to associations; examples and discussion arise from the couch:

"IT IS WHAT IT IS."
My friend L. thinks I hate this because it's senseless, it's three words stretched across five, and it's instantly repetitive--repetitive even if you don't repeat it. This may be true. It is also true that I most strongly associate IT IS WHAT IT IS with my former coworker N., who used the saying as an all-purpose excuse for incompetence. Didn't file a court brief on time? "The material was given to me late--the case was doomed from the start--IT IS WHAT IT IS."

"WHAT CAN YOU DO?"
Although WHAT CAN YOU DO? is more or less interchangeable with IT IS WHAT IT IS, I don't mind it at all. Perhaps this is because it asks a question. Say WHAT CAN YOU DO?, and who knows?--the listener may have your answer. The expression, paradoxically, is both an acknowledgment of defeat and a final attempt at a solution; and doomed resilience has always resonated for me. But more likely my tolerance for WHAT CAN YOU DO? goes back to Seinfeld. Fifteen years ago the Whale and I saw him do stand-up at the Fox Theater in Detroit. One of his jokes went like this: "Every Thanksgiving my family used to get into the same heated fight. Politics, sports, that time Uncle Joey ran over the dog--it all came up. But just when things started to boil over, my grandfather would stand up and put his hands on his stomach. He'd let out this big sigh and say, 'Well? What can you do?' And that effectively ended all argument."

"DO WHAT YOU GOT TO DO."
L. expected me to hate DO WHAT YOU GOT TO DO for the same reasons she hates IT IS WHAT IS. (Senselessness, repetition...) Instead it makes me smile, especially when it's voiced by someone from Brooklyn. I attribute this to how the expression features in the story my friend W. tells about his son's conception: "I remember the exact moment. I was sick as a dog. I had the flu, and I had just finished throwing up. But then my wife called me into the bedroom. She said the basal temp was right, the stars were aligned. I got in there, did what I had to do, and--" (fist pump) "--knocked her up good."