Category Archives: Now trending

Observing and all too often criticizing language trends

Dazed and Definitely Confused

Pollsters these days constantly inform us that we are divided. We can’t seem to agree on anything, they report, except that we do not agree on anything. That may be true (or not — feel free to disagree about agreement). It also may be true that we are simply confused. Certainly this signwriter is:

First of all, if someone is having so much trouble decoding the word FIVE that the numeral is necessary, why use the relatively sophisticated word MAXIMUM? Second, what does FIVE (3) CUSTOMER mean? Don’t answer that. Instead, take a look at this advertisement, specifically the middle caption:

I’ve spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out what an ORIGINAL REPRODUCTION could possibly be. I have given up, but I invite you to try your hand.

Each of these signs, on the other hand, is perfectly clear. Together, not so much:

The best meaning I can come up with: All roads lead not only to Rome but also to Lake Wallenpaupack Palmyra Township.

If you drive there, or anywhere else, for that matter, be sure you have enough fuel. You never know when you will encounter a pump like this one:

I sympathize with the gas station attendant. There’s an awful lot NOT WORING these days. Perhaps we can all agree on that?

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 2

As the pandemic grinds on, it’s increasingly tough to answer simple questions like who? what? and where? — questions these signs unsuccessfully attempt to answer. Take a look at this sign, which was posted in the window of a math-enrichment center:

Where are the instructors, exactly? In your home? I guess you should be glad that your home provides comfort, and you should be REALLY glad that they’re live. The last thing you need is a deceased teacher in your living room.

Then there’s this one:

I wouldn’t mind a Manicure & Pedicure, but HOME CALL makes me think of ET, as in ET phone home. Yeah, I know, I’m being pickier than usual. Maybe I should be pleased that the nail-tender understands that we all need comfort these days. A home call is comfier than a house call.

I don’t think it’s picky to question this sign, though:

Are we talking actual food or virtual? Until yesterday I would have thought that actual was the only possible answer. Then someone paid almost seventy million dollars for “Everydays: The First 5000 Days,” a “nonfungible token” (NFT), which is an artwork existing only on a computer. Until the computer crashes during the next update, that is. Then it exists as a hole in your bank account, though as I understand it, the payment was in virtual currency, so nothing real was paid for nothing real. I should find the symmetry comforting, but somehow I don’t. Back to the sign: I hope they collected cans of tuna and whatnot in a physical pantry, because real people can’t eat icons from a pantry file.

In closing, this grammarian in the city offers one NFT of her own: a wish, existing here on my computer and speeding wirelessly to yours, that you stay safe and well.

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!!!!

Definitions

Excited after successfully booking a Covid-vaccination appointment (for eligible New Yorkers, that’s equivalent to rolling dice and having them land on their edges), I suddenly realized that I had forgotten about politics for 14 whole minutes. On Inauguration Day! During the ceremony! I’ll make up for that lapse by posting a few signs. The first two arrived courtesy of my friend Sean.

I’m tempted to call these “Freudian typos” because they capture the deep-seated fears that some of us have about control and negation. But like all terms associated with politics, the definitions are mostly in the mind of the definer. Does the dictionary define socialist and conservative? Yes. Do you know the definitions? If you’re like me, the answer is no.

While I had the Oxford English Dictionary on my screen, I checked politics. The meaning that’s all too relevant these days (“actions concerned with the acquisition or exercise of power, status, or authority”) was pretty far down the list, after, for example, “activities or policies associated with government, especially those concerning the organization and administration of a state.” Lately I’ve had a hard time associating the word organization with any level of government (see dice reference above), but really, it should be there for all our institutions.

I can’t help thinking that this sign, advertising a space the owner hopes to rent to a restaurant, captures the definition of politics most appropriate to our era:

My New Year’s Resolution (late because, you know, the pandemic) is to do all I can to avoid venting in place and instead to look for ways to make things better. Let the new year begin, and let it be safe.

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.

Shopping Guide

Shopping season, in altered form like everything else in 2020, is upon us. It seems appropriate to warn you that the appearance of certain words automatically raises the asking price, though not necessarily the quality. Take a look:

Describe anything with a British-sounding word, such as bespoke, and you can add at least 20% to the price. Even after deducting 10% for spelling (dissapoint), the store still comes out ahead. Same with this photo:

Chemists can charge much more than pharmacists, and this store has both. The chemists are presumably in Britain and selling their products in a Manhattan pharmacy. Or something like that.

Old-looking words also up the bill:

The shopkeeper (not shoppekeeper) thinks you’ll read this sign and picture yourself wearing a hoop skirt or a tricorn hat. (I’m betting the store owner, like me, is a little fuzzy about history.) Back to language: Double the P in shop and the prices double too. The E probably adds another 5%.

My pet peeve (one of about a million, I admit):

Purveyors? Somebody memorized a vocabulary list and by golly is going to use it! If sellers get $1 for whatever the specialty is, a purveyor deserves $2, right?

Last and maybe least (though it’s a race to the bottom):

Curated? I’m happy to have an art museum curate its collection. But if our favorites in the snack-food category are curated, they’re overpriced.

Moral of the story: Buyer beware. You beware, too, of prices and most of all, of Covid-19.

The Dangers of 2020

We all know that 2020 presents a long list of dangerous situations, the pandemic being just one. But I haven’t read much about Food Danger: not what you eat, but the danger of being eaten. Take a look:

I’m not attending any event offering entree choices of beef, pork, or child. I wonder how many people took the last line seriously and listed “human flesh” as a dietary restriction.

When I couple the card above with the sign below, I fear cannibalism is becoming a trend:

Call me picky, but I don’t want a restaurant to serve me, as in serve me on a plate, or to serve anyone else, for that matter. Better to take care of each other! With that in mind, perhaps we should veto this plan:

I must admit that the above signs seem attuned to the mood of this awful year. Maybe the problem stems from too much disinfectant:

Please don’t satanize anything (or anyone, no matter how tempting). Do stay safe, and keep those around you as safe as possible, too.

On the Defensive

Lately I find myself thinking of 2020 as a real-life version of Ghostbusters 2, the one with a bubbly river of pink goo that makes everyone snarl and fight. Reinforcing that feeling are some signs that have a markedly defensive tone. Here’s one:

Pardon the bars. I took this photo during an early morning walk, so the store was closed and the gates were down. Nevertheless, the implied dialogue was easy to imagine: “Whadda ya mean, out of business? Yeah, the laundry has been shut for a while, but we still do dry clean.”

In the same vein, from the same walk, but in the window of a different shop:

More gates, more imaginary rebuttal: “I don’t care what the clerk said. I’m the owner and we do press duvet cover, sheets, pillow cases. So there!”

Last one:

The supermarket attached to this announcement is undergoing renovation, so it makes sense to proclaim, We are still open.” But I don’t get the but. That word generally signals a change in direction or an exception to a rule. I can’t build a logic bridge from pardon our appearance to we are still open with but. Can you? If so, please let me know.

While you’re thinking, get defensive: wash your hands, mask up, and social-distance. And please, go on the offensive: fight the pink goo. This awful year needs all the kindness we can muster.

How Do I Look?

I’ve been Zooming around a lot lately. I’ve had virtual dinners with friends, virtual classes (on both sides of the virtual desk), virtual doctor visits, and some virtual interviews about my new book. (Yes, this is a shameless plug for 25 Great Sentences and How They Got That Way, which debuted this week.) What I haven’t had is the ability to ignore my appearance while Zooming. I suspect I’m not alone. In fact, I bet the first humans fretted over their skin and hair whenever they knelt to drink from a pond.

These New York City signs, snapped pre-pandemic, indicate a whole new level of obsession. First up, skin:

I admit that German Black Forest sounds authoritative, though why those ingredients should surpass, say, the Appalachians I could not explain. And what has to happen for something to be wild crafted? Is a deer or a bear involved? A squirrel? For me, the words that tip this sign into lunacy are the last three. Does anyone create a system designed not to work?

A little more skin:

Given the lack of hyphens, this shop may be offering a consultation about the camera you use to check your scalp. Or, the store may have its own special scalp camera. Either way: eww. Why would you want to stare at follicles and record the experience for posterity?

Now, hair. Here’s a message I agree with:

Keep each tress to yourself, please! It should be easy to avoid passing one, if you’re Zooming. Not so easy, but much more important: stay safe!