Through the course of his decades of teaching English at Bishop Canevin High School in East Carnegie, Tim Fazio has developed an exercise that challenges his students to expand their vocabularies.

By reading the morning newspaper.

At the start of each quarter, Fazio passes out to the kids a list of 100 words that they are asked to find peppered amid the friendly pages of the Post-Gazette. Or Brand X newspaper. Or any other "disposable" publication, including magazines, menus and even church bulletins.

The truth is that not many people turn to such publications to learn new words. Newspapers, for example, tend to print the same words over and over again every day. We just change the order.

Bush, Congress, Iraq, Rendell, Murphy, assessments, US Airways, Steelers, Michael Jackson. We toss in a few verbs and adjectives, and we go to press.

Frankly, readers expect to encounter words that they are familiar with. We're not communicating very well if we're sending our readers to a dictionary every other paragraph.

But perhaps there are words and phrases that we all ought to know. And, given their context, we should understand them.

I told Fazio last night that I'd like to help the poor kids in his class earn extra credit by using some of the list's 100 words right here in the First Light column. (This would be of particular help to my fellow procrastinators since the assignment is due next week.)

Surely, an erudite professor -- a member of society's intelligentsia -- would not eschew my attempt to disseminate such words.

This column is known for its brevity, but a ne'er-do-well writer such as myself might syncopate a word here and there. I almost have carte blanche to use double entendre. And puns. Occasionally, I'll use a portmanteau word such as prissy.

Of course, readers might not welcome a staccato harangue that fails to elucidate. All this folderol might exasperate them.

And our myopic editors are very pragmatic. They usually try to jettison such kitsch. These surly sorts can be quite truculent as they unduly upbraid the indefatigable work of our writers. Mellifluous writing is good. Flamboyant is bad.

And what of Fazio, himself? What if he considered my assiduous work to be a lampoon of his lesson, a pejorative pastiche of parlance?

Fortunately, he welcomed the experiment and was effusive in his praise.

"I know the kids will enjoy that," he said. "It sounds like something that will be fun and practical."

Fazio said his little exercise helps his young adults prepare for the world they'll be reading about once their formal education is finished.

I was flabbergasted by his enthusiasm, yet I was somewhat tentative about opening this Pandora's box. It is fortuitous for the kids in Fazio's class that I can attempt such vacuous shenanigans.

I won't equivocate. I'd be a charlatan if I said that I knew what all of the words on Fazio's list meant. Considering the nebulous task ahead of me, I began to feel despondent. But after a brief hiatus in the snack bar, my malaise began to segue into cool equanimity.

And I became engrossed in the task.

Still, Fazio's students shouldn't think that I'm doing this gratis. There always is a quid pro quo.

I'd like to think that once they filch these words for extra credit, they won't simply forget them. Good word usage is important throughout life.

As Fazio said, "Everything is reduceable to words."

And no one wants to be accused of circumlocution.