Category Archives: Picky Punctuation Points

How punctuation changes or destroys meaning

Quiz Time

Why? Such a simple question. Unfortunately, the answer may be anything but, especially when it comes to signs, as in “why did they write that, in that way?”

My friend Amy sent this photo:

There’s some punctuation missing from the sentence beginning with wildlife. A comma after area would directly address wildlife, telling them to be cautious. That interpretation gives rise to two questions: (1) Aren’t wildlife instinctively cautious? and (2) Can wildlife read? Another possibility is that a colon went AWOL from its spot following area. Reinsert it and the sentence becomes a command to be cautious, addressed to whoever is supposed to STAY OUT. That’s more logical but probably ineffective, because some forms of wildlife (the human variety) are capable of interpreting a simple prohibition as a dare. Side point: can somebody please explain the rationale behind the capital-letter and period distribution?

I spotted this sign in a botanical garden on the east bank of the Hudson River:

The Shop is stocked with unusual items, and I’m always interested in checking out a sale. I didn’t buy anything during my visit, though, because I spent my time wondering why at is italicized. Also, why at? What’s wrong with The Shop in Wave Hill or The Shop of Wave Hill? Even The Shop for Wave Hill makes sense, as this is a nonprofit.

My friend Jacqueline found this message in a fortune cookie she cracked open after dinner at (unitalicized!) our favorite Chinese restaurant:

She pointed out that what is right and what you should do are generally supposed to be the same thing. Right?

I welcome your theories about (or for, on, or even at) these signs.

Obviously! Or Not.

On some of my excursions around New York City, I find signs that are stunningly obvious, the equivalent of a message I once saw on a book of matches: “Warning — may cause fire.” Here’s one such sign:

Does the owner think anyone’s going to pay $26.00 for amateur haircuts & shaves? Professional would seem to be self-evident, given that someone is paying rent, utilities, and so forth to hang out inside and tend to customers’ tresses in exchange for money.

Also obvious is this sign I saw in Midtown:

If you were searching for a satellite, where else would you look? Under the sidewalk grate? Not obvious is what’s holding the satellite. A giant leash? A Star Trek magnetic field? Also, why are they holding it? Send the satellite into orbit, already! Despite the pandemic, rents in New York City are high, and Space is free.

Also unclear is the meaning of this message, which I glimpsed on the side of a van belonging to a cleaning service:

I have always assumed that every doorman in my building showers, with perhaps an occasional bath as a change of pace. That a doorman might opt for dry cleaning never even entered my mind. Now that the thought is there, though, I wonder whether the dry cleaning ticket is pinned or taped on, and to which body part. Actually, on further reflection, I’d rather not know.

One more puzzler, to balance out the pair of obvious signs earlier in this post:

The bar looks old, so I’m not questioning the age of the place but rather the quotation marks around 100, which are most commonly used to indicate a direct quotation. That doesn’t seem likely here. Nor is it likely that the marks signal doubt about the accuracy of the information enclosed by quotation marks, as in We listened to Henry’s “singing” until our eardrums ruptured. The dates show 100 years (2021 1921 = 100). So why quotation marks?

Obviously, I invite you to send me your theories.

Time to Eat

We all like to eat, right? And most of us like to eat right. We do our best to select nutritious and delicious food that doesn’t bust the budget. But finding such food isn’t always easy. Indeed, sometimes figuring out exactly what you’re buying can be problematic. Take a look at this item, which my friend Sean spotted:

What is it with the canine references? A couple of posts ago I showed you a sign indicating a “large bread dog park.” Now someone’s putting pastrami on Snoopy! This label is also evidence of (in my opinion) a culinary crime. Lettuce and pastrami shouldn’t go together on a beagle, a bagel, or anything else.

The next photo comes to you courtesy of last night’s dinner:

The meal was quite tasty, but I did wonder whose hands were involved with my salmon, and how. Handcrafted, my dictionary tells me, means “made skillfully by hand.” Unless my biological knowledge is faulty, salmon make salmon, and fish don’t have hands. Yes, I know the handcrafted part might refer to grilled. In that case I hope the hands wore heatproof mitts. Otherwise those dark stripes on the salmon were . . . well, let’s not go there. I ultimately decided that handcrafted is similar to artisanal (a label I have also seen applied to fish). Both mean “you’re paying too much.”

I did not buy this dessert, but I did wonder what the store was selling, and to whom:

Is this treat intended for an extremely small lover of chocolate? Or is the store informing the customer that the chocolate bits in the sundae are undersized? Maybe the sundae is smaller than the size the store usually sells. The whole thing can be resolved with punctuation: I favor a mini, chocolate-lover’s sundae. Actually, I favor a maxi sundae, but I shouldn’t indulge.

I hope this sign, like the previous one, has a punctuation problem, because if it doesn’t, someone better call the cops:

That’s it for today. Time to eat!

Punctuation Puzzles

I live in New York City, so irony is my default tone. Thus I’m fairly sympathetic to “scare quotes,” the print version of “air quotes” — punctuation that writers insert to distance themselves from whatever’s inside the quotation marks. The problem is that sometimes readers can’t tell whether the quotation marks indicate a definition (as they do above), an exact rendition of someone else’s words, or an eyeroll. Take this sign, for example:

I’m not sure why NO appears inside quotation marks. If these are scare quotes, the signwriter is saying, “Cyclists, you are not supposed to park here, but [wink wink] you will anyway and I won’t stop you.” It’s also possible that the signwriter may be quoting someone: “Don’t blame me! The owner said NO.” Putting aside the punctuation issue for a moment, I still don’t grasp the intended meaning. Is the sign protecting cyclists (“There’s a HAZARD here for you!”)? Is it trying to safeguard pedestrians, who may trip over a parked bike? Keeping cars and bikes separate? Inviting cyclists to leave their bikes because there’s NO PARKING HAZARD? I can only speculate.

Nor can I determine the function of the quotation marks in this photo, sent by my friend Ellie:

Frankly, I have no idea why quotation marks appear in this sign. Nor do I know why there is an ellipsis (three dots) after flowers. Unfinished thought? An attempt to create suspense? I’d take a scalpel to this sign, excising two dots, both quotation marks, and one exclamation point. Then I’d use the scalpel to cut myself some flowers.

Another sign suffering from excess punctuation:

Here’s what I know for sure: the restaurant needs HELP in the KITCHEN. It also needs HELP in signwriting. The business is seeking a COOK and . . . well, I’m not sure who else. There may be two spots open, one for a DISHWASHER and another for a DELIVERY person. The forward slash in DISHWASHER/DELIVERY implies that one employee is supposed to wash a few pots and then dash out with a DELIVERY. Three exclamation points convey desperation, though perhaps not enough to raise the salary being offered to a potential COOK, DISHWASHER and DELIVERY person. PETER, if you see this post, please clarify. Readers’ theories also welcome!

Pondering Punctuation

Can we agree to give up on apostrophes? All together now: pry the key off the computer, excise the concept from your brain, and resolve not to write anything with a curved mark hanging next to a letter. Can you feel the relief? Never again will you have to critique a sign like this one:

This is not my dentist, but if I were in search of a new one, I would not rule out this fellow because the plurals are (gasp) written with apostrophes. Inserting punctuation is not the same as filling a tooth. Besides, apostrophe-less words are perfectly clear, most of the time. Take a look at this helpful sign from a clothing store:

On reflection, not very helpful. The sign is on the ground floor, surrounded by racks and tables displaying tee shirts and shorts for nonhuman life-forms (I can only assume, since the sign indicates that women’s, men’s, kids, and a single, solitary baby are accommodated downstairs). Back to my apostrophe point: If women’s were womens and men’s were mens, would shoppers be any more confused? I do admit that the lack of consistency is problematic. Anti-apostrophists like me could delete two bits of punctuation, and pro-apostrophists could add them. Both groups could pluralize the youngest age group.

This sign is also confusing, not just because of its punctuation:

I can ignore the PUSH / DO NOT PUSH issue, because (a) there’s a pandemic and (b) removing a decal from glass is not fun. What I can’t ignore is the !!! in the middle of a sentence. An exclamation mark is an end point. You get there and you’re done, unless you’re Panic! At The Disco, a band with an internal exclamation point that, perhaps not coincidentally, broke up a few years ago. Also, no one needs three exclamation points, especially now. We’ve had enough excitement for this millennium, thank you very much. Revised, much improved versions: Please DO NOT PUSH THE DOOR! or Please, do not push the door.

Perhaps the previous sign could send two of its exclamation points to the one below, sent by my friend Sean:

I would feel much more comfortable with an exclamation point after hunting. Even two. Much safer for everyone. Speaking of safe: please stay that way. Covid is still out there!

May I Ask a Question?

Four questions, actually, all simple, all based on photos from the past year. Free subscriptions to this blog to anyone who answers all the questions correctly. (For legal reasons, I should probably point out that subscriptions to this blog are always free.) Okay, here’s the first:

QUESTION 1: What did the deceased former Treasury secretaries call for?

Ready for number 2, which my friend Don sent?

QUESTION 2: Do employees check whether the kids really have gas before handing over free food? If so, how?

Moving on:

QUESTION 3: Can we ever trust Dovere’s pool report again?

Last one, which I admit is somewhat personal because I wrote the book on the left:

QUESTION 4: What logical thread unites these three items?

I am looking forward to your answers. Stay safe!

Signs of Covid, Part 1

A year in, it’s become clear that symptoms of Covid-19 include well intentioned but poorly executed signs. I have collected quite a few, so I’ll spread them over a couple of posts. The first one is a bit late, but I’ll post it anyway because Valentine’s Day should last as long as possible this year, which has been sorely in need of good feeling:

Here’s another emotion-packed message, not quite as upbeat as the previous:

This was on the window of a doctor’s office. I was tempted to call to say that I’d agree to STOP!!!! if the doctor would agree to drop three of the exclamation points. Well, four, because the one after NAME isn’t necessary. Maybe it can be recycled into an apostrophe for CANT?

The previous sign is a little rude, but at least it asks you to control yourself, not others, as this one does:

I have great sympathy for the struggling restaurant industry, but I don’t see myself (or any diner, in fact) pushing people apart who venture too close to each other. It’s my responsibility to MAINTAIN A DISTANCE OF 6FT from OTHER GUESTS, not BETWEEN. Nor should this responsiblity fall to the waiters. Diners, you know the rules. Please follow them. Or, as the person who fashioned the second sign in this post would put it, BEHAVE!!!!

Dictionary, 2020-2021 Edition

Last year yielded a number of words I wish I hadn’t had to learn and fervently hope not to need much longer. To wit:

pod Formerly: a container, like the inedible green things that peas grow in or, in trendy offices and schools, a partly-enclosed seating area for work or study. Currently: the group you can hang out with indoors and maskless, knowing that everyone’s germs have already mingled. Also a verb, as in “I podded up with my son and his family after I passed quarantine.”

doomscroll An unfortunately apt verb, arising from the fact that nearly everything on our screens these days foretells impending doom in one form or another. An inadvisable practice because if the sky is falling (pretty much the only disaster we haven’t had to worry about in the last 12 months), it will fall whether we obsess about it or not.

Blursday Vague but useful time marker for when you never see anyone or anything new (see pod, doomscroll above).

Murder Hornet As if 2020 weren’t bad enough. And yes, they’re real.

Also real is this sign from the window of a dentist’s office:

Presumably the first option makes you not care that your teeth really need the second.

I could go on (and on and on, see Blursday) but instead I’ll end this post with two words I do NOT understand, as in why anyone would ever select them: X Æ A-12 and !!!!!. The first is the name of Elon Musk and Grimes’s son, the second this deli:

X Æ A-12 is still with us, but !!!!! went out of business long before the pandemic, perhaps because employees couldn’t figure out how to answer the phone. “Hello, you’ve reached !!!!!, may I take your order?” is a little hard to imagine.

Feel free to send me your own candidates for words you wish you didn’t know. Happy Blursday to you, and happy new year, too.

Paging Autocorrect

Before autocorrect, I’d sometimes proofread my work and find hte. “C’mon, computer,” I’d think in exasperation. “You know I meant the!” Autocorrect has brought its own problems, of course, but it certainly would improve these mangled expressions:

I can think of a lot of reasons to swing open cell doors, but criminalized onion relish isn’t one of them. Side point: Is Prime topside a real cut of beef?

Next is a sentence a friend found in a concert announcement:

We’re excited to open the series with a performance featuring renounced vocalist. . . .

I’ve omitted the name of the renounced vocalist, who is innocent, I’m sure. The copywriters, on the other hand — let’s just say that if we weren’t already in pandemic lockdown, I’d recommend they serve detention.

Whoever wrote this should do serious time for Crimes Against Language:

The spelling mistakes don’t bother me. If I can type hte, I can forgive becarse and unassemboed. Ditto for the odd capitalization and punctuation. What gets me is the last sentence. Is there really a correct way to cause a series of problems? Extending the point, is there an incorrect way? Just thinking about this is enough to make the screws loose.

Keep your screws tight, try not to renounce anyone, and don’t criminalize condiments. And stay fsae. I mean safe. Thanks, Autocorrect.

Precarious

The world is precarious nowadays: danger seems to, and in most instances actually does, surround us. As a break from the deadly and serious, here are a few threats that may bring a smile and no damage whatsoever to anything other than the English language.

For the bad-breakup crowd:

For want of an apostrophe, a boy friend was lost. Well, turned into cash, which I’m pretty sure is illegal, no matter how toxic the relationship was. Side point: How do you turn cash into ca$h other than typographically? And why would you want to?

Although unemployment has risen sharply, I’m hoping no one is desperate enough to apply for this job:

Grilled man? I don’t even want to think about it.

And then there’s this placard*:

*Zero-star review from Marie-Antoinette and Thomas Cromwell.

As if we needed one more thing to worry about in 2020:

My recommendations: be kind to your ex-whatever, don’t barbecue yourself, watch the scissors, and stay off the sidewalk. Be safe!