Years ago, there came a time when I got real tired of hearing the word "genius" applied to absolutely anyone who could do anything. Someone's paperboy was a genius because he could hurl the Sunday Times and hit the porch. It was a compliment that, like standing ovations these days, was used too frequently and thoughtlessly that it lost all meaning, at least for me.
I've begun to feel the same way about the word "legend." It's hard now to have achieved anything in your lifetime without someone calling you a legend or using "legendary" as an adjective to describe you. In fact with some people, you didn't even have to do anything except not die. Once you hit a certain age, you were automatically presumed to be legendary. And of course, the problem is that if everyone's a legend then no one is a legend.
I wince when I see myself hyped as "the legendary Mark Evanier," the exception being when it's said with sarcasm or with one's tongue lodged firmly in one's cheek. Alas, it sometimes is not, especially in the world of comics. Interviewers like to do that — inflating their guests to legendary stature — because (a) it butters up someone they may need to do something for them in the future and (b), it makes the interview (and therefore the interviewer) seem more important.
I recall not so long ago someone on a podcast making reference to an upcoming guest…the legendary Jamie Farr. And I thought, "Okay. If Jamie Farr is a legend, what word would you use to describe Charlie Chaplin?