Category Archives: Snarky Remarks on Grammar

Picky observations on grammar and writing style

Grammarian in a Watery City . . .

The city being Venice, where I spent ten wonderful days and where at every turn I was startled by beauty, and, occasionally, by some creative use of the English language. Please note that I’m not criticizing here. How could I when I once wrote the Spanish-equivalent of “pitifully, I cannot accept your invitation”? As you read, imagine that I’m smiling gently at these menus. This one, for example:

I’d like to see a “cattlefish,” as long as it’s not stampeding toward me, leaving a trail of inky hoof-prints. Perhaps they reel it in with a lasso instead of a fishing pole?

Here’s another:

I won’t comment on “dishrealated.” I prefer to think of it as a positive, whatever it may be. I’ll just commend this restaurant for its “accurate procedure that leave unchanged the organoleptic qualities,” which, I discovered when I searched the dictionary, relate to the senses. In fact, from now on I’m ordering organoleptically. I also appreciate that the establishment is willing to engage with any “intolerance issue.” We all need help with that these days.

With “respect,” too:

And I thank you, dear reader, “for your delicate attention.” More on Venice when jet-lag abates.

Tell Me Where

Tell me where I should go when the streets are filled with motor vehicles and I see this sign:

I’m used to dodging texters, squadrons of cyclists, and an occasional Vespa on the sidewalk, but trucks? And will they hear me if I caution them for crossing sidewalk? Maybe I’ll just leave, as all packages referred to in this sign are directed to do:

At least I won’t be alone. In addition to packages, I’ll have doorman to protect me. Speaking of doorman, here’s a building notice that puzzles me:

I get that pofavor is short for por favor, part of a polite request in Spanish. But in front off bldg? Fortunately I don’t smoke, regardless of whether I’m on, off, or in front of a building. Or behind one, for that matter. I do drink wine. Maybe not the last one on this list, though:

I’m not keen to show ripe pear flavor on the nose, mine or anyone else’s. The mineral finish of the Riesling is more appealing, assuming the mineral isn’t something feldspar or mica, which I’ve never sampled but which I assume taste awful. And what’s a leading . . . finish? The middle wine looks like the best bet. Anyone care to join me off bldg for some Pinot Grigio? We can ignore the trucks crossing sidewalk and leave with doorman together, wine glasses in hand.

Individual, or Strip?

Really, it’s not a choice I have ever made or ever plan to make. But apparently some people do need to decide between “Individual, or Strip.” My question, in addition to why there’s a comma before “or,” concerns how an “Eyelash Application” decision is made:

On second thought, I don’t really want to know. I’d rather ponder still another eyelash dilemma:

So, a single eyelash walks into a bar . . . and gets 50% off? Or is the “first Eyelash” 50% off and all the others offered at the regular, or even double-the-regular price? (Sidepoint: Why capitalize “Eyelash”?) The whole thing sounds like a math problem to me: Calculate how much it will cost to have all your eyelashes visit. The answer may depend on whether you want your “first Eyelash visit” to be “Individual, or Strip.”

One last outrage of English, courtesy of my friend Ellie:

Nicotine-puffers can read this notice in columns (“No Safety / Smoking First”) and nonpuffers line by line (“No Smoking / Safety First”). I’m a nonpuffer but also a noncombatant in the “what does it mean?” war. I do wonder whether the letters were applied to the boat “Individual, or Strip.”

Where?

If you feel your life lacks direction, take heart. None of these signs will help you, but they will show you that you’re not alone. The first example comes from my friend Ellie:

It’s hard to know where to begin my comments. “In Side” and “Use As Credit At Pump” caught my eye (caught as in “fish hook”). I admit I’m fond of “Inconvenius,” but it’s not a direction, so I’ll leave that and the apostrophe problems alone.

I snapped the next photo on a New York City bus that crosses Central Park:

“Traverse”? I don’t think so! “Traverse” is a verb, and anyway every New Yorker (except whoever wrote this sign) knows that the bus crosses the “transverse.”

This one is more a “who?” than a “where?” but it’s too good to pass up:

Nice to know that we “pedesterians” have a place to walk. At least the signwriter consulted an etiquette book (saying “please”), if not a dictionary or spell-check program. This signwriter did both:

I could question the capitalization rules applied here, but I behave Graciously. You should too.

Nutritional Information Needed

It’s hard enough these days to know what to eat and drink. There are Keto, Paleo, and for all I know Beto diets. Nor do these signs don’t make the situation easier. In fact, they give rise to questions, which I pose here after each.

How many Arancini could Could Cuts cut if Could Cuts could cut Arancini?

What does a social taste like? And is tasting a social really an event?

Relying on sound, not spelling: Do letter carriers bring Poast Pork to your table?

It’s possible to pay for wine with an I.D? Alternate question: does wine carry its I.D. in a wallet?

Do diners with extra-strong teeth chew plates fresh from the kiln? Also, is there a worldwide shortage of hyphens?

Feel free to answer my questions, or pose your own.

Food and Drink

Can’t do without food and drink, right? But I can certainly do without the silliness that appears permanently attached to them on the signs and menus of New York. This one, for instance:

Which hero are we talking about? Wonder Woman, in a traditionally female role? Batman, grilling in the Bat Cave (a traditionally male role)? Or The Flash, serving super-fast food? Also, how does a burger get “certified”? That last question is apparently a serious issue, as some meat producers object to the term “burger” for anything that doesn’t contain meat. They want to prohibit the term “veggie burger,” for instance, and substitute . . . well, that’s not clear. Maybe patty? disk? puck? The menus of America need a hero to step in and solve this language problem.

Speaking of menus:

I can’t decide whether this restaurant is patting customers on the back for ordering a treat that sounds vaguely nutritious or castigating them for ordering any pastry at all. Also, what’s with the “by”? I’d expect the preposition “from,” reserving “by” for works of art (a painting by Rembrandt, for example). I guess the restaurant wants customers to see these creations as masterpieces. And for all I know (I didn’t order any), they are.

I didn’t take advantage of what this sign offers, either:

At least it’s not “outdoor.” If I were ever tempted to grill myself, I’d prefer a little privacy.

Time to wash down all this food:

These days, it is indeed “special” to encounter honesty, which is reason enough to order and pay for two drinks.

Heatwave Relief

The air resembles tan soup this morning, as the heatwave in New York City staggers off. I’d be staggering, too, without the comic relief provided by friends who sent me these signs. The first is from Joselia:


I hope the cops are looking to arrest whoever “we” is before the chainsaw comes out.

The next two are from Ellie, who lives in a cooler spot (Canada). Please send a cold front with the next set of photos, Ellie. Here’s the first:

Call me lazy, but the thought of trekking to China from Canada just to save walking up or down some stairs is not appealing. And how is that a convenience for wheelchair users?

Another Ellie-gem:

The original caption for this photo questioned whether there was any way to make sense of the display. The syntax suggests that “whole” is a noun. I’m just hoping it’s not a misspelling of “hole,” in which case the first person to walk on that carpet is going to take a plunge. Another theory: The empty window on the right is a fill-in-the-blank. If that’s correct, I’d be happy to spend $99 to carpet my street and a few adjacent avenues. Much more elegant, and quieter, too.

Ellie shared a photo taken by her friend John, but my computer stubbornly refused to save it. The image showed an empty carton labeled “invisible tape.” Maybe the invisible part explains my computer problem: The photo is there, but no one can see it.

The last is from me, snapped during a recent visit to England:

I’m not sure about the “get sun” part, but otherwise, it’s spot on.

Sign-Spotters

What would I do without the sharp eyes and excellent grammar skills of my friends? This post is fashioned from the silly signs and ads they spotted. First up features a rather unappetizing menu item, noted by my friend Helen:

Liced?

I’m sure that she ordered an insect-free beverage. Or at least I hope so!

Catherine found this one:

Can other types of snakes relax there?

I imagine a “rattlesnake hammock” as a long, narrow sling, perhaps with some curves built in. I hope there’s a special pocket for the rattle. Imagine trying to warn off predators only to discover that the tip of your tail is caught on the cloth!

My friend Marlene discovered these two beauties on an academic website and sent me the links. I neglected to take a screen shot, so I’ll simply quote. Here’s the first:

TWO YEAR OLD TEACHER NEEDED

About a week later, this appeared:

THREE YEAR OLD TEACHER TO START ASAP

As Marlene noted, “They upped the age, probably because there were no inquiries from two-year-old teachers.” The school certainly sounds desperate! If you’re three and jobless, consider applying.

And if you notice any other linguistic absurdities, please send them ASAP, regardless of how old you are.

Please Explain

Every once in a while — okay, every day — I find a sign that puzzles me. I like puzzles, mostly, but I also like answers. With that in mind, I’m posting four signs, hoping readers will enlighten me. First up:

Does this mean it’s okay to garbage somewhere else?

Another question for another sign-maker:

My first theory about this sign: a “pre-action” is a thought. But then I realized that thinking is itself an action. That put me in chicken-egg territory, wondering which came first, the pre-action or the thought about the pre-action. What do you think? (And while you’re thinking, are you pre-acting?)

One from a beauty salon:

Is there an analog perm? If I go digital, will I have fingers in my hair, and if so, whose?

Last query:

Is there an epidemic of cave-ins caused by sloppy posture? Or is “Do Not Lean” just mean? I’m leaning (pun intended) toward answering yes to the second question and no to the first, but I’m willing to be convinced otherwise.

Explanations welcome.

A Little Help

The Beatles got “by with a little help” from their friends, and so do I. These signs come from a cadre of alert observers. Presented with thanks, first to Sharon:

How polite to say, “Please do not become alarmed” immediately before asking passengers to “please use the button marked ‘Alarm.'” Nice to know there’s a “telephone ‘if furnished.'” Impossible to decipher, but nice to know.

Now another, courtesy of Jacqueline:

I have never visited that part of the world, but if I ever do, I will be sure to spend “less than tow nights.”

Another, this time from Don:

What’s with the S and its double duty? Labor-saving? Eco-conscious?

Now a menu from another friend via her friend in Madrid, both of whom prefer not to be named:

This one is a little hard to read (in more ways than one!) so I’ll type the most important line: “Salad with all it must have.” That’s how I always prepare salad. Don’t you?

One more, from my friend Marlene: an ad on Craigslist for a “2 year old Teacher on Long Island (Deer Park).” I don’t have an image for this one, but I’ll let you make your own, complete with a toddler, her grade book, and a bunch of chalk. I wonder whether the school offers free diapers to its faculty? Time-outs for tantrums? Bibs?