Category Archives: Now trending

Observing and all too often criticizing language trends

Missing!

Pretend that this post is pasted to a lampost and that the title is followed by “WANTED! DEAD OR . . . ” Well, just WANTED, because a letter isn’t alive. Which is not to say that a letter can’t be important. Take a look at this sign, which my granddaughter’s friend spotted:

Nice to know we’re CLOSE, whoever WE is. I can’t help wondering how CLOSE: Do we share every thought? Our streaming passwords? A toothbrush? And if WE’RE actually CLOSE, why can’t we see each other today? Must we wait until TOMORROW? (I’m ignoring U. Text-spelling has invaded every medium, like the Borg in the Star Trek universe. Resistance is futile.)

Also missing a letter is this place:

Like most eateries in Manhattan, this spot had so little room that Never Close was never true. With only a slight stretch, a diner at this Diner could easily snag a french fry from the next table. Did you notice the past-tense verbs? The Diner closed a couple of years ago.

If you’re a fan of animated films, here’s a business that might interest you:

In addition to a Tel-Fax number (abbreviated for privacy), this company provides direct-line contact information for two Cels. What’s a Cel? A crossword-puzzle creator’s favorite word (or an animation frame).

That’s it for today. Or, in keeping with the theme of this post, That’s it for toda.

We the People

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On July 4, 2022, I wrote a post about Independence Day. At the time I believed that Americans were as divided as they ever could be — two groups peering at each other across the deepest chasm possible. I was wrong. Over the past four years, the division has grown more bitter, the chasm deeper. It doesn’t have to be this way. We can, and must, return to our roots. We must remember that America was designed for interdependence as much as for independence.

Consider the country’s name, which declares that individual entities (States) are made one (United). The same ideal appears in America’s traditional self-definition (melting pot) and motto (E Pluribus Unum — “Out of many, one“). The Preamble to the Constitution begins “We the people,” emphasizing unity.

Of course, the 18^th-century people granting themselves rights in the Constitution excluded many Americans. In the Preamble, the Founders acknowledged that their work was flawed, declaring that they were striving for a Union that was more perfect — not actually perfect. And despite their shortcomings, the Founders’ goals were worthy: “to establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.” Note the capitalization: In the colonial era, writers employed upper case for emphasis. The capitalized words of the Preamble reveal that the Founders aimed for Justice, Tranquility, Welfare, Blessings, Liberty, and Posterity. Not a bad slate of goals.

Bearing these points in mind, I suggest that instead of focusing on the Declaration of Independence on this, the document’s 250^th birthday, we instead celebrate the Preamble to the United States Constitution. At the very least, the Preamble’s minimal length (52 words) allows more time for barbecues. At best, the Preamble may prompt us to rededicate ourselves to Interdependence, to the notion that what’s good for All of us is good for Each of us. (Colonial capitalization intended.) With the Preamble as a focus, this divisive era may become less so, and a “more perfect Union” may be achieved. Happy July 4th!

March Madness

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This is not a post about a basketball tournament. It’s about what my Italian friend calls “Marzo Pazzo” — Crazy March. Judging from the weather last week, the month is accurately labeled. I was in Washington DC on Wednesday: it was 85 degrees and humid. On Thursday it snowed. This month in NYC I’ve toggled between “spring at last!” and “where did I put my heavy coat?”

As crazy as the weather are these signs, all of which I spotted this month. First up is a notice on a new building in my neighborhood:

You know the LEASING prices are high because it’s a COLLECTION of RESIDENCES. In my experience, those terms mean “we’re overcharging.” What’s crazy is ELEVATED. The building is about 20 stories tall. Shouldn’t the owner assume that prospective renters assume that they won’t have to climb the stairs to their RESIDENCES?

Speaking of elevators, I saw this sign in one:

Whenever I’m at Fairway Market, I know that I’m at Fairway Market. Does management think that people wander in, find the elevator, and then ask “Where am I?”

Here’s a sign I saw in the window of a shop selling gummies and other hemp-derived products:

I understand the HEALTHCARE part, but not ADJACENT EXPERIENCE. Readers, please send me your theories.

Last one:

This is the horrifyingly expensive price list for a parking garage on my block. (In case you’re wondering, I don’t pay these prices. I don’t own a car.) My reason for placing this sign in the crazy column is the third line, Exotic Add’l. I can decode Add’l — “additional.” But Exotic? No clue. Your thoughts?

I could end this post with a wish that you enjoy the rest of this crazy month. But given the times we live in, I’m ending this post with a wish for sanity — or at least something that’s sanity adjacent. We could all benefit from that!

On the Bus

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Readers of this blog know that my topic is usually language. But today I’m putting words to one side and focusing instead on actions. Specifically, what I witnessed on a Manhattan bus yesterday.

I was staring out a window, oblivious to my surroundings, when I slowly became aware of a little stir. The man on my left was rooting around in his grocery bag. He pulled out a roll of paper towels, peeled back the cellophane, tore off one sheet, and then another. He passed both towels to the woman next to him, who in turn passed them to someone sitting beside her, who leaned across the aisle and gave them to a mom who had used up a hefty supply of tissues on her child’s very drippy nose. The mom smiled her thanks and said, “This is the America I want to live in.” We bus riders chorused our agreement. Someone added, “That’s why I live in New York.”

I don’t think New Yorkers have a monopoly on kindness, but I do believe we seldom get enough credit for the amount of kindness this city calls forth from its residents every single day. Yes, we’re impatient. Yes, we can seem – and be! – rude. But for people from such varied backgrounds, whose experiences and beliefs may fall as far apart as Earth and Jupiter, we manage pretty well. And often, like today, New Yorkers step up in surprising ways. My busmates understood how annoying a trail of mucus can be, both to the dripper and the dripped on. Perhaps they also grasped that the dripper/drippee toggle can flip in the blink of an eye (or the ah-choo of a nose).

The world feels like a cruel, hard place right now. I’m hoping paper-towel man thrives and inspires others with his kindness. He certainly inspired me! I’m not planning to carry around a roll of towels, but I have resolved to pay more attention and to help whenever I can. If enough of us resolve to do so, perhaps we can collectively toggle from despair to hope.

Mysteries

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No matter what else I’m reading, I always have at least one mystery novel on my nightstand. At the end of a long day of bad news — far too frequent, these days — I need to dip into an orderly world where justice prevails. Yes, I know some mysteries deviate from that pattern. I don’t read those. How do I know whether a mystery fits my criteria? I read the last page first. Real life is surprising enough! Plus, I nearly always forget the identity of the murderer by the time I get to the end of the second chapter.

When I’m out and about, I enjoy mysteries also. Sometimes they show up in an overheard comment: “He’ll do for a starter husband” (one twenty-something woman to another) and “Have you brought your business to a successful conclusion?” (dog walker to poodle). Before you ask, yes, these are real things New Yorkers said.

My favorite mysteries appear on signs. Here’s one:

No one can read this without wondering which ingredients the store won’t sell. Unethically sourced shea butter? Uranium? Magic beans? It’s a mystery.

Here’s another mysterious sign:

Let’s get practical: How does the site owner know what parents have said to their kids? Does telling children of the dangers of trespassing fulfill the parents’ obligation? (“I told you, now go and trespass if you want.”) Also, isn’t trespassing anywhere a dangerous activity? Or only on this site?

Another mystery:

I’m ignoring the subject-verb agreement error (Shower Caps should Keep, not Keeps). What I really want to know is whether there are Shower Caps that make hair wet. Also, is there a shower cap that keeps something other than HAIR DRY? Maybe there are Shower Caps for toes? Or belly buttons? Elbows, perhaps?

The mysteries presented here don’t conclude with justice triumphant, but neither do they honor the guilty. They’re just mysteries that add a little fun to my life and, I hope, to yours also.

The Language of Medicine

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Right around this time last week, a surgeon inserted a tiny camera and an equally tiny tool into the most poorly designed human joint. I refer, of course, to the knee. Seriously, Evolution, were you napping by the time you got to the middle of the leg? I was fortunate to have excellent medical care, and even more fortunate to have medical insurance. I am aware that many others are not so lucky. And before I move on to the language of medicine, I will climb — carefully, because, you know, the knee — onto my soapbox. Health care is a right, not a privilege, and our society should treat it as such.

During the past week I’ve thought a lot about the language of medicine. Not the scientific, but the ordinary terms. For example, what did I have? A procedure? To me that sounds euphemistic, like real estate agents’ calling an apartment “charming” (last renovated when Eisenhower was president) or “cozy” (comfortably accommodates two people, standing up). To me surgery is more serious, something that happens to a vital organ. Perhaps the middle ground is operation, a term useful for military invasions and public relations blitzes.

My procedure/surgery/operation took place in a facility, not in a hospital (a serious, stay-over place) or an office (less serious, with magazines in the waiting room) or a clinic (middling serious). The root of facility is facilus, Latin for “the means or unimpeded opportunity for doing something.” I’m not sure about the unimpeded part (see note above on insurance), but the facility I went to certainly did something. A good something! My knee feels better.

The last term is patient, from the Latin patior, “to suffer or endure.” I got off lightly, in this instance, with not much beyond soreness. I didn’t even have to be patient, because everyone involved in my procedure/surgery/operation kept to the schedule. I’m sure my future holds more medical (INSERT PREFERRED TERM HERE), because I’m senior/older/in my golden years/not dead yet. I can only hope everything proceeds smoothly, and that the insurance company approves.

Moody Blues

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The national mood, and, I must admit, my own mood, is so down that an elevator to the sub-basement wouldn’t reach it. What to do in response? Well, you can have a serving of this:

(Photo courtesy of my friend Catherine, who prefers grape jelly and proper spelling)

Judging from the muttering and sometimes shouting of Gripe(s) I hear, this is a popular option. However justified your Gripe, though, venting your feelings is a short-term fix at best.

An alternative:

In my experience, inflicting the SILENT TREATMENT on others seldom yields positive results. The target may experience the silence as agreement or worse, welcome it as a peaceful interlude.

What else can you try? Here’s a tempting option:

The problem with BREAKING, REMOTE or otherwise, is that at some point you have to put the pieces back together.

One more:

I posted this photo of a New York Times headline eight years ago, commenting on the repetitive nature of the expression Failing to Succeed. (What’s the alternative — Failing to Fail? Succeeding to Success?) But now I’m focusing on Giving Compromise a Try. Not on matters of principle, of course. But maybe finding common ground around the edges of less important disagreements can lead us, and our national mood, out of the sub-basement. Perhaps as high as the basement? Surely that’s not too much to ask?

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.

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