Category Archives: Now trending

Observing and all too often criticizing language trends

Command Performance

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“Don’t tell me what to do!” I’ve said that a few times — sometimes screamed it! Thus you can imagine my reaction to these signs, which give commands I have no intention of obeying.

This one comes from a supermarket, where it hovered over a display of creamed corn:

The supermarket seems to be issuing a command to shoppers: “Don’t buy these! Can your own Vegetables instead!” Side point: If I did can vegetables, I probably wouldn’t be able to hit the rather small weight range specified in the sign.

Here’s another ill-advised command:

How do you Freshly Squeeze Organic Orange Juice? Does the Juice have private parts which you can’t Squeeze without being accused of acting Freshly? And if you Squeeze Juice, Organic or otherwise, don’t you end up with a mess, moisture and pulp flying everywhere?

Another command:

The definition of HANDICAP as a verb — for commands are imperative verbs — is “to impede” or “to make a task more difficult to do.” How do you HANDICAP an ENTRANCE? By placing sand in the hinges? Laying a speed bump in the doorway? Side (but important) point: I’d substitute “ACCESSIBLE” for HANDICAP. I’d also specify ON THE OTHER SIDE of what.

The first three signs are missing a D or an ED or an ED plus other letters. This last sign, which appeared on a van belonging to a renovation company, adds ED unnecessarily:

I’m not sure why a van, clearly transporting construction materials to a job, proclaims that it’s FINISHED PAINTING & CARPENTRY. Then again, lots of people complain that their contractor extends the work period to infinity. So perhaps a statement that they’ve FINISHED a job is smart advertising.

Here’s a command to you: Have a lovely Memorial Day, but pause a moment to think about the many, many Americans who have given their lives to preserve democracy, both here and overseas.

Traveling in New York

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I haven’t owned a car since 1975, so I pay close attention to notices concerning public transportation, the subject of this post. First is a recent headline from a publication that should know better:

Every bus in New York City carries a lot of people, but until I saw this headline I didn’t know that the Trump administration was on a bus. Perhaps that’s a protective factor. If someone volleys back at you while you’re on a bus, you’re a moving target. Side point: Is it possible to volley forward instead of back?

Moving on to subways, here’s a message that popped up on my phone:

Question: If we (presumably the MTA, which oversees public transit in New York) removed a train mechanical problem from service, shouldn’t the Northbound 6 trains run faster? With fewer delays? Also, does this notice imply that if a train mechanical problem is added, instead of removed, we’ll zip along more quickly?

Here’s a sign about the most common form of traveling in New York City — WALKING:

Lots of problems with this sign, but I’m interested in just one aspect, the reference to WALKING PASSPORT. I don’t know what your PASSPORT does, but mine is definitely sedentary.

This last sign doesn’t reflect my sentiments about my home city — except for occasional moments on a crowded bus or train when I yearn for a brief trip fitting this description:

Sadly, peace of mind is a rare commodity these days — in New York and, well, anywhere. If you locate a spot that qualifies, do let me know.

Covid-ersary #5

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It’s been five years since Covid upended everything. In those first, awful months, NYC shopkeepers put up notices about masks and social distancing. I photographed those signs because it seemed important to have visual evidence of a historic moment. Now, as I go through my files from that deadly period, I find other signs that describe what was happening. This one, for instance:

Air Duck. That’s what lots of us were trying to do, but you can’t really Duck something that is (a) everywhere and (b) necessary for life. Instead of Duck-ing AIR we had

also known as sitting in the living room and Zooming emotions to anyone who’d listen, then listening to them VENTING IN PLACE. Essential workers didn’t have the luxury of staying IN PLACE, of course, either with or without VENTING. They had to show up, do their jobs, and hope they’d survive.

Then there’s this sign:

In normal times I’m a shop-daily person, mostly at local stores. Sheltering myself from the virus meant that I did indeed NEED A DELIVERY. And it was PERSONAL: My safety was at stake. It was also sad. I missed the quick conversations at checkout, the overheard remarks in the aisles, the chance to decide whether the vegetables were ripe. It was PERSONAL for those making a DELIVERY, too. Among the poorest New Yorkers, they didn’t have the luxury of staying home. Like essential workers, they had to do their jobs, however risky.

Finally, here’s a sign I spotted on a well-masked walk:

I’m not sure exactly what Pharmaceutical CATERING is or whether it would have eased the need for VENTING IN PLACE. I suspect more than a few people turned to Pharmaceutical help of the not-strictly-medicinal kind, though probably not on the level of CATERING.

I generally end my posts with a quip, but the pandemic requires something more serious. So I’ll just say this, which is as PERSONAL as it can be: We should all be grateful to those who put their lives on the line — doctors, nurses, cops, firefighters, DELIVERY personnel, and many more.

Why I Love New York

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I love my city for many reasons, prominent among them its mix of cultures, with interactions that are not always easy but inevitably interesting. A few pictures to prove my point:

This was taped to the window of a small grocery store. For the non-Spanish-speaking, Buscamos means “we are searching for.”

This was on sale at an iconic NYC market:

Europe (French) plus South America (PERU) equals New York.

If you’re too busy to cook, you might consider eating this:

I have to wonder what they put in an Irish Bento Box.

Not so welcoming to Japanese food is this restaurant:

I’m not sure whether they sell NO SUSHI or refuse to sell it IF U DON’T HAVE I.D. (The subtitle for this photo should be “The Problem with Bulleted Lists.”)

In keeping with the pace of life in my hometown, I’ll keep this post short and reserve the signs for Russian mathematics, Brazilian Wax, Japanese dry cleaning, and German Kitchens for another international, New York day.

Perfectly (Un)clear

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Because I’m a baseball fan, the Superbowl serves primarily to remind me that pitchers and catchers will soon report to spring training. That’s why I’m posting this puzzling clip from an article about a baseball game played last season:

I’ve read Lorenzen’s statement several times, and I still can’t figure out what he meant when he said that his miss needs to be in off.

Nor can I decode this pair of signs:

It’s clear that they sell CIGARETTES. In fact, they sell All brands of CIGARETTES. But I can’t figure out why NOW is underlined in the top sign and ALL in the second, or why there’s one line under the first CIGARETTES and two under the second. Increasing exasperation? Or does the store slap up a new sign every time someone asks whether they carry a particular brand?

Then there’s this ad. No problem decoding the first two lines, but the third is another story:

How, exactly, are feet relived? If they’re selling a return trip to an earlier era, sign me up. I’d like my feet to trek back in time to relive the early 70s. Maybe the 90s, too. Definitely not the 80s or most of this millennium. That much is clear, at least to me. How about you?

Report Card

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I haven’t posted lately, unsure how to respond to the sorry state of the world. Yes, I know the world is always in a sorry state, but to me the current moment seems worse than usual. How can a blog about silly signs respond? The answer I arrived at comes from the fact that I’m a teacher. Reader, can you determine what grade I’m giving the World by reading these signs?

This was on the window of an empty shop:

Got it? If not, here’s another clue:

By now you know, but I can’t resist showing you these, the first from a 24-hour restaurant and the second from a bagel shop:

Yes, World, your grade is D-. It’s that high only because I’m being lenient. I hope you, dear reader, are moved to show your fellow humans and your planet that they’re loved, that the fix-it department is never closed, and that you’ll make things better not by returning to the past but by employing the best, old-fashioned tools: hard work, commitment, and — this time rightly without a D, love.

Construction. Sigh.

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I’ve just gone through an apartment renovation (minor) and am currently enduring construction above me (major) and on the bricks outside my windows (monumental). Not to mention the massive structure going up on my corner and … well, let’s just say I don’t have a happy view of construction these days. Construction signs, though, bring a smile to my face. This one, for example:

Duly noted. But I have to ask: How do the owners of this site know that children have been warned? And why do they think the kids will listen?

Here’s another helpful sign:

Nice of the Seattle Department of Construction and [Inspections] to inform the public that someone is building zero Units with zero Parking.

I paid special attention to this one because my nickname is on it, albeit spelled differently:

Question: Why is one word spelled correctly at the top (deliveries) and incorrectly at the bottom (deliverys)? Perhaps there was an un scheduled interruption while the sign was being proofread?

That’s it for now. With the holidays looming, I wish you all good things, whether they be scheduled or un scheduled.

Help Wanted

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I’m not hiring. I’m reacting to the fact that pretty much everyone I encounter these days is tense about extreme weather, extreme politics, and, of course, the holiday season. Like The Beatles, “I get by with a little help from my friends.” But if you prefer a different method, perhaps one of these signs will suggest a path forward. Here’s one I saw in Madrid, Spain:

Poetry and psychoanalysis! A dynamite combination for personal growth and tension relief.

If poetry and psychoanalysis aren’t for you, consider the advice offered by the Irish Times in 1916, when martial law was declared in Dublin. With violence in the streets and a strict curfew, the newspaper opined:

Trouble outside, poetry inside! Wonderful thought, and a strategy that more than a few people, myself included, followed during the Covid lockdown era. Okay, maybe not the Bard, but trashy novels for sure.

Still looking for help? Here’s a sign in Seatac Airport:

I’m not sure why the sign maker felt the need to mention both Rescue and Assistance. Perhaps it’s because when things are really bad, one is not enough?

What if nothing is enough, and you’re still tense from doom-scrolling? Don’t give in! Or, as a zoo in Seattle put it:

My interpretation: It’s not the wolves’ fault! Pick your targets wisely. And maybe read a little poetry to the pack.

Checking It Twice?

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We’re closing in on the season when Santa is, as the song goes, “making a list and checking it twice.” Good idea! Too bad these signmakers didn’t make these signs and check them even once. If they had, surely they would have noticed these unfortunate typos.

The first comes courtesy of my friend Barry:

Ouch. The operations themselves must sting, but surely a little warning would help?

This photo was snapped by Nathan, the son of one of my former students. It’s on a food cart parked in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art:

I sincerely hope no one obeys the command in the first two lines.

Here’s a screen shot I took when I was rug-shopping:

Quick question: Are the Stunning Patters made by little feet or a comedy-club emcee?

Another screenshot, from the website of a major hotel chain that should know better:

Take a close look at the third sentence, which I’ll reproduce here because the print is rather small: “Pop in, have a nap, (needs a comma) do a little laundry, take a shower, and relax in the stylish lounge before continuing on your journey.” Just what guests need in an airport hotel: a comma!

What I need, and what I suspect we all need as the holidays approach, is a bit of what these special days promise: the love of family and friends, the peace to enjoy their company, and the chance to express my gratitude for their presence in my life. Happy Thanksgiving!

West Coast Woofers

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I’ve spent the last few weeks in Seattle, which has been called “a city that loves books” because of the large number of bookstores, libraries, and book sales there. How lovely to be in a city of readers! Even more impressive: it appears that not all of Seattle’s readers are human. Take a look:

I wonder whether any members of the bark-set have objected to the missing punctuation.

Speaking of the bark-set:

Pay attention, Fido! Keep quiet, Rex! You don’t want a tow-away to the (gasp!) pound. (And yes, there’s some red tape stuck on the sign. I didn’t stick it there. If I had, the sign would have been much sloppier.)

These homeowners are less threatening , more polite, and probably just as earnest about their request to neighborhood dogs:

“Be respectful“: now that’s a message I can support!

Moving on from woofers, here’s an excerpt from a plea for kitten adoption:

While Squirrel’s profile appeals on many levels (who can resist feather wand toys?), I balk at living with a cat that loves to eat a chorus, no matter how out of tune the singers’ performance may be.

I choose to believe there’s hope for Squirrel. If West Coast Woofers can read, they can teach Squirrel to resist noshing on a tenor. Maybe they can even persuade the human population — not just in Seattle but everywhere — to be respectful. That would be something to bark about, even in a tow-a-way area.