Category Archives: Now trending

Observing and all too often criticizing language trends

If at first you don’t succeed . . .

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“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” This old adage advocates not only persistence but also repetition. And unlike many counselors, the adage follows its own advice, doubling up on try. Is repetition a good idea in signs? I’ll let you decide after you take a look at these.

Jenny, a student in my writing class at Hugo House (www.hugohouse.org), sent me this one:

Technically this sign isn’t repetitive, because PRICE changes to Prices as the font grows. Why? That’s a puzzle, as is the whole sign. What’s with all the empty space and the solitary O? And why repeat? Perhaps for emphasis: “Hey, customer, we really mean it!” Maybe to scold: “Had you listened the first time, we wouldn’t have to tell you again.” Either way, the punctuation in the last line is a problem. Quotation marks most often indicate the reproduction of someone’s exact words. However, quotation marks can also distance the quoter from the quotation, the visual equivalent of a wink and a nod: “We say LOW PRICE but we actually charge double. And just try cashing in on our GUARANTEE!” A third possibility is that the sign writer followed the recent trend that employs quotation marks as attention-getters. I’m not happy with that usage. It’s hard enough, these days, to separate fact from fiction.

Moving on, here’s a sign I spotted in a dry-cleaning shop:

Why make two statements about PERC? Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t NO PERC ODOR a given when there’s NO PERC? Or does someone sell PERC ODOR to people who enjoy chemical smells but don’t want the liver and kidney damage that PERC brings?

This sign’s repetition is the least of its problems:

So they BUY . . . CASH for CA$H? Good to know, though I’m left wondering what the exchange rate is when you convert CASH to CA$H. What really bothers me, though, is the offer to TURN YOUR OLD BOY FRIENDS JEWELRY INTO CA$H. If the statement has something to do with ownership, it should read BOYFRIEND’S JEWELRY or, for someone with an active dating life, BOYFRIENDS’ JEWELRY (the plural possessive). Do I have to point out that turning someone else’s adornments into CA$H is theft? Worse than the apostrophe error is the possibility that AND might be missing from the space between FRIENDS and JEWELRY. Even if you hate your OLD BOYFRIENDS, you can’t swap them for CA$H. You really can’t!

On that stern note, I’ll say BYE BYE for today.

Recommendations

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Today’s post offers recommendations for ordinary people, all levels of government, and the US military. The first is for those seeking entry to this shop:

Should you PUSH or PULL? English generally reads from left to right, so the bi-color message DON’T PULL / PUSH ONLY makes sense. But because the colors create columns, you can also read it as DON’T PUSH / PULL ONLY. I recommend you stand nearby until someone exits. Then simply slip through the open door.

Different store, same problem:

Which takes precedence: the official blue AmX sticker telling you to Push or the green-paper Please DO NOT!!! PUSH THE DOOR? As with the other sign, I recommend you wait for someone else to solve the problem. I also recommend a tax on exclamation points. The first one would be free, with a $10 charge for each additional point. It’s a win-win situation. Either the deficit will plummet or public discourse will calm down. Government officials, are you listening?

Here’s a risky sign I spotted eight years ago. To this day it remains in front of the United Nations:

Obey the wrong sign and you risk a ticket (if you’re lucky) or a crash (if you aren’t). I recommend you park your car and walk.

This recommendation is for the military’s newest branch:

Space Force, we need an investigation into satellites being held above Midtown.

I’d like to end this post on a positive note. Here’s a clear, polite sign sent by my friend Constance:

My final recommendation: send me all the silly signs you spot!

What’s For Lunch?

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In my neighborhood, just about every store that isn’t a nail salon is a restaurant. Thus it’s not surprising that enterprising food purveyors do whatever they can to entice customers, including displaying these signs:

The price of one of these LUNCH SPECIALS ($15) isn’t unreasonable in New York City, especially considering that they’re offering WOODFIRED SANDWICHES, which are . . . well, I don’t know what they are. Bread charred by burning branches? Unemployed victims of forest downsizing?

My friend Catherine sent this one:

I had no opportunity to speak with the SANDWITCH, who I assume was selling a consultation lasting as long as it takes to drink a cup of FREE COFFEE. If I had, I would have asked about the accuracy of the spells in Harry Potter as well as the rationale for enclosing FREE COFFEE in quotation marks. Perhaps the brew isn’t actually COFFEE?

I should note that the prices listed below have increased since I snapped the photo:

Inflation or not, who could resist an offer to DESIGNED YOUR OWN SALAD? Also, 16 oz (ounces) equals one pound. Thus the restaurant is offering a one-, two-, or three-pound salad, each with 1 meat and unlimited vege. I must ask: Who has room for much (many?) vege after eating three pounds of DESIGNED SALAD?

Last one:

If Mom gets Fri, who gets all the other days? I’m a Mom, but I prefer Tuesdays. Can non-Moms get the LUNCH Special on Fri?

My advice is to choose a restaurant carefully, eat well, and in the spirit of today’s MLK holiday, find a way to work for a more just world.

Simple Gifts

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With their variety of holidays, December and January form a season of presents. I’ve been thinking about a few simple gifts our pained world needs. Here’s one:

You could read this sign as an admonition, a short of “shhh” to shelled species who aren’t all that noisy anyway. But I prefer to think of Turtle Pond as A Quiet Zone for thinking. The gift of reflection.

Food’s on my list, too. Not the pretentious, overpriced stuff on sale in my neighborhood’s food boutiques, but basics for the underfed:

Granted, the sign doesn’t specify what’s in the yard of food, but surely there’s some nutrition? I’m hoping the money the shop did not spend on a competent sign-writer went to quality ingredients. The gift of nourishment.

The next one’s more personal:

Who doesn’t need a Relationship Manager? Everyone I know, not to mention a number of governments, could benefit from understanding that our fates are intertwined. I fantasize that the Relationship Manager would deliver this message with in a firm, parental tone. Then, like chastened children, we’d slink back from the brink of destruction we’re currently dancing on. The gift of safety.

I end this post, and this year, with the gift I received last week. My family and I were at a holiday parade. We had arrived late and couldn’t penetrate the crowd. My six-year-old granddaughter had a great view of knees and coat hems but no chance of seeing the marchers. But then a boy in front — on crutches, perhaps ten years old — noticed her. Instantly he offered her his spot. There are good people in the world, I realized. He gave me the gift of hope.

May you have that, and more, in 2024.

Healthful?

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Shortly after the most candy-full day of the year, it seems appropriate to consider products that are healthful — or rather, products marketed that way. Starting at the top:

Number 1. Okay, I’m interested, but I would like to know the nature of the list this juise man tops. Every cart on the Upper West Side corner where he sells a smoothie that is all natural no sugar no milk? Every cart in the city (or world or universe)? The smoothie itself sounds healthful enough, though again I’d like more information. Lots of unhealthful things are all natural — uranium, for example.

This sign’s from Seattle:

How does one know, exactly, whether bees are happy? From the buzz? Antenna motion? Do NW bees smile? I admit I know nothing about bees‘ moods, but I would have thought they’d be unhappy if someone swiped their honey. Maybe there’s a profit-sharing plan.

Same supermarket, different product:

Plant-Based sounds nutritious, doesn’t it? But I have to ask: Is there a non-Plant-Based Pizza? Made on, say, cardboard or steak?

Last sign, courtesy of my brother-in-law:

Good to know that there isn’t even one Vegan in this Gel. Or perhaps the Gel is Free to any random Vegan passing the salon?

As always, theories welcome. See what you can come up with as you nibble away at your Halloween candy.

Dates

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I keep both an electronic and a paper calendar. That’s a bad system, because I sometimes forget to enter an event on one of them and commit myself to existing in two places at the same time. Thus I’m sympathetic to anyone who messes up a schedule — within limits. These signs definitely do NOT fall within those limits.

Whoever wrote this sign didn’t memorize the “Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November” jingle that I learned in elementary school.

Note to self (on both calendars): Avoid this street every September 31st.

This sign, posted in London, has a similar problem:

I thought the longest night of the year was December 21st, the winter solstice, but apparently it’s 29 Septermeber, which has 3 nights tucked into one date. Or perhaps the road closing begins on 29 Septermeber and lasts until Septermeber 31?

Moving from days to weeks:

There may be Only One NYC RESTAURANT WEEK because that week lasts for a very long time.

This advertisement, which I found in a catalog, stumps me:

I can’t make the numbers add up. From 1983 to 2023, I count 40 YEARS. So far, so good. But how does that connect to aptly named 1963 — a date plastered on all the clothing? Maybe the jackets are half as large as they should be (half of the 40-year span of A WINDPROOF, WATERPROOF LEGEND)? Theories welcome, as long as you send them in before the deadline, which is next September (Septermeber) 31st.

Golden Oldies

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“Okay Boomer,” said my teenaged granddaughter to her dad one day, teasing him with the verbal equivalent of an eye roll. Informed that an actual Boomer (me) was sitting next to her, she responded, “Yeah, but Gran’s cool. Well, not cool, but for her age she’s really cool.” Best. Compliment. Ever.

I’m not fond of the term Boomer, which makes me think of oil wells and large tubas, but I’d rather have that label than some others applied to my age group. Golden Ager implies the best of all possible eras, and that’s unlikely when so many phone calls with my peers include what one has dubbed the “organ recital”: a list of the new body-part doctors we’ve acquired and the ailments they’re treating. Nor do I like the expression older people. As a grammarian, I’m obliged to ask, “Older than whom?” and wait for someone to complete the comparison. I’m okay with being called elderly, though I’d prefer to be known as an elder, a term implying that I’ve learned something valuable during my years on the planet. I’m also okay with old. That’s just accurate.

The term I really hate is senior citizen. I’ve been a teacher my entire adult life. School is my default context. If I’m a senior, what am I graduating to?

I mention all this because today is my birthday. A complete complement of candles would burn down the house, but I’ll take a symbolic, celebratory few. That seems the right way to mark this step on the path. As for terminology, this sign gave me the answer:

Where there are Minors, there must be Majors. That’s me, folks. Major, cool-for-my-age Woods.

Close, But No Cigar

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Back in the we-didn’t-know-tobacco-causes-cancer era, many traveling carnivals offered cigars as prizes. Near misses garnered only a sympathetic statement, “Close, but no cigar.” I can’t say I blame the carnival workers. In my business (grammar), close isn’t good enough either. Witness this sign, which my granddaughter spotted:

I’m ignoring the substitution of U for “you.” Shortened texting forms are conquering the language, and, to borrow a phrase from Star Trek, resistance is futile. But CLOSE is an actual word, with an actual meaning that doesn’t match the sign’s intended message. CLOSE or far away — who cares where the storekeeper is? Shoppers simply want a place that’s open.

Alaska Airlines posted this card on a breakfast buffet:

I’ll pause for a moment so you can imagine my impassioned rant about apostrophes inappropriately tasked with making a word plural. All done? Good, because I want to talk about vowels, specifically the A that’s missing from Rosted (Roasted) and the E that doesn’t appear in Potato’s, which should, of course, be Potatoes. Alaska Airlines, if I proofread your signs, will you give me free flights?

Not just a letter but a whole word went AWOL from this sign:

IT’S TIME TO what YOUR EVENTS? To forget about, ignore, run screaming from, enjoy? And what is a SEMI-PRIVATE? Does Hallmark make a card for that?

Last one:

Note to the signwriter: Good job on the apostrophe in WE’RE. Not so good on WALKIN!! Two exclamation points do not a complete word make, even when they’re gold and pink. I’ll end this post now so you can picture what SPECIAL WALKIN!! looks like. In my mind’s eye, it’s a cross between an amble and a strut. Or perhaps it’s something different. Whether I’m correct or just close, don’t bother offering me a cigar!

Non-Moving Vehicles

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For a city well-supplied with public transportation, New York devotes a large amount of signage to parking. I won’t post the ordinary this-is-when-you-get-towed signs (too boring, also sometimes inaccurate). Nor will I dip into history, such as former Mayor Ed Koch’s early 80s “Don’t Even Think About Parking Here” campaign. Instead, I’ll focus on weird elements of the genre I’ve seen recently, such as this one:

Every time I walk past this Garage, I wonder why someone felt the need to insert Temporarily. If the Garage is permanently Full, wouldn’t the sign say “Residents Only” or “Private Parking”? Also, does the sign writer think anything in life is permanent? I certainly don’t, least of all a parking spot in the crowded borough of Manhattan.

Here’s a sign posted next to a train station:

As I read it, you get FREE PARKING on all SUNDAYS & HOLIDAYS, but on only one measly SATURDAY — ever! My advice is to choose your day wisely. You don’t want to blow your free-Saturday card on a ten-minute errand.

Parking signs, by the way, presume a public that actually cares. In New York, that’s not always the case:

It’s a bit fuzzy, so I’ll reproduce the words on the sign next to the car blocking a building entrance: DO NOT BLOCK BUILDING ENTRANCE.

Not only cars bring out NYC rebellion:

Notice all the bicycles neatly lined up in the NO BICYCLES enclosure.

One more:

You can’t go wrong at this intersection. You can’t go right, either, but as I established with the previous two photos, New Yorkers don’t care.

Danger

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The world has never been a safe place, but lately I’ve noticed hints of danger in unexpected places, such as this restaurant, presumably run by the homeowner in “Hansel and Gretel”:

Most of us would agree, I hope, that while TOTS may often be annoying, they should never be classed as edibles, either at home or in a BAR.

Different restaurant, but a similar hint of danger:

What will those hands do if the person they’re attached to actually does satanise them? I shudder to think.

Perhaps the person in the photo below used the “sataniser.” He’s Will Kirk, an amiable furniture restorer on The Repair Shop, which is an amiable television series:

It’s hard to envision Will, a newlywed, in a martial (warlike) home. But according to Hello! magazine, there he is.

Strictly speaking the next photo doesn’t depict danger, but it certainly opens up some awful possibilities (e.g. arteries and veins) for a careless user:

Usually I can figure out what the sign intends to say (Will’s home should be marital not martial, for example), but this one stumps me. The photo depicts neither an ASHTRAY nor a BRA, and 1 Pcs $4 isn’t much help. One “personal computer system”? A “pretentious chopping set”? An item in a “precarious clothing series”? All would be a bargain at $4, I guess.

The last photo, snapped by my granddaughter, has a rather ominous tone:

Why offer a reason and then cross out the crucial word? What’s wrong with cash payment? Germs, counterfeits, an aversion to green pieces of paper? I can’t fill in the blank.

Feel free to send me your ideas. I promise a swift and safe response.