Category Archives: Picky Punctuation Points

How punctuation changes or destroys meaning

Technical Difficulties

I’ve been thinking about technical difficulties lately, perhaps because I’ve had a few. When I sat down to write this post an hour ago, for example, Word Press was down. It came back more quickly than my bank account, which went into a tizzy after someone tried to access it fraudulently. No harm done in either case, fortunately. I’m not sure the same is true at this shop:

First of all, this situation is unfair to anyone without a credit card or an item to barter. Second, what’s TECHNICAL about CASH? You put your hand out, someone puts the money in it, and you’re done. Okay, there’s recordkeeping, but are their pencils having TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES, too?

This sign, sent by my friend Catherine, has another sort of technical problem:

Granted, it’s not too hard to figure out the identity of the missing letter — though I spent an enjoyable half hour imagining alternatives, such as FIRE DOOD (alternate spelling for the Big Lebowski), FIRE MOOD (blazing? glowing?) and FIRE GOOD (arsonist’s motto). What intrigues me is why just one letter is missing. Do the other letters have more stamina? Did the flames hop from the E in FIRE to the next word? Maybe it’s something about W. That’s one of my initials, but I promise you I didn’t swipe the letter. I can’t vouch for my relatives, though. My best guess is that there were technical difficulties with the glue.

Whoever issued this press release in December 2020 is unlikely to accept a flimsy excuse about technical difficulties. Read it carefully:

Swapping a period for the comma after inaugurated: Now that’s precise editing! The next time I encounter technical difficulties, I want the person who corrected the pool report on my team.

Close, But No Cigar

Back in the we-didn’t-know-tobacco-causes-cancer era, many traveling carnivals offered cigars as prizes. Near misses garnered only a sympathetic statement, “Close, but no cigar.” I can’t say I blame the carnival workers. In my business (grammar), close isn’t good enough either. Witness this sign, which my granddaughter spotted:

I’m ignoring the substitution of U for “you.” Shortened texting forms are conquering the language, and, to borrow a phrase from Star Trek, resistance is futile. But CLOSE is an actual word, with an actual meaning that doesn’t match the sign’s intended message. CLOSE or far away — who cares where the storekeeper is? Shoppers simply want a place that’s open.

Alaska Airlines posted this card on a breakfast buffet:

I’ll pause for a moment so you can imagine my impassioned rant about apostrophes inappropriately tasked with making a word plural. All done? Good, because I want to talk about vowels, specifically the A that’s missing from Rosted (Roasted) and the E that doesn’t appear in Potato’s, which should, of course, be Potatoes. Alaska Airlines, if I proofread your signs, will you give me free flights?

Not just a letter but a whole word went AWOL from this sign:

IT’S TIME TO what YOUR EVENTS? To forget about, ignore, run screaming from, enjoy? And what is a SEMI-PRIVATE? Does Hallmark make a card for that?

Last one:

Note to the signwriter: Good job on the apostrophe in WE’RE. Not so good on WALKIN!! Two exclamation points do not a complete word make, even when they’re gold and pink. I’ll end this post now so you can picture what SPECIAL WALKIN!! looks like. In my mind’s eye, it’s a cross between an amble and a strut. Or perhaps it’s something different. Whether I’m correct or just close, don’t bother offering me a cigar!

Say Wath?

The title of this post isn’t a typo. It’s a reaction to a sign I saw recently:

I don’t know WATH a COFFEE with a BOTTOM is, but I do know that someone should have proofread the sign before placing it on the sidewalk. Ditto for this one:

I’m ignoring the quotation marks around include. (Seriously, though, why would anyone enclose include in quotation marks? Forget I asked! I just remembered I’m ignoring!) Instead, I direct your attention to the next bullet point, 30 min message. A message from whom? About what? Thirty minutes makes for a lengthy message, but it’s a decent amount of time for a “massage.”

One more:

GARBADGE caught my eye first, perhaps in a moment of nostalgia for my Girl Scout days, when I earned quite a few badges. But the part of this sign that most interests me is FROM THE RESTAURANT. I still can’t figure out whether THIS SPACE is FROM THE RESTAURANT (which, grammatically, is the correct interpretation) or the GARBADGE CONTAINERS are FROM THE RESTAURANT. I guess either/both could work better than the sign, which was posted a few feet above several overflowing GARBADGE bins. I may go into THE RESTAURANT and ask, after I stop for a COFFEE with a BOTTOM and a 30 min message. You’re welcome to join me!

Job Hunting

Looking for work? Perhaps one of the jobs mentioned in these signs is for you. This one, for example:

I’ve never met any Costumers, if that word refers to professionals who sew outfits that turn you into someone or something else. I have met a lot of people wearing costumes. Do they count as costumers? Both groups, I imagine, would appreciate the opportunity to have their very own restroom, though it might be a bit crowded around Halloween.

Maybe you’d like a job in this grocery store:

What does a miner mine in a supermarket? Or Is the store participating in the construction (actually, constrction, as the sign spells it) of miners? I don’t want a job here, but I would like one of those metal hats with a lamp attached. (If any costumers are reading this, please get in touch.)

I don’t want to neglect nonhuman readers. (Chat GPT, this may be of interest to you!) Here’s a caption from a recent New York Times article:

The print is small, so I’ll retype the caption here: “Machines could help ease a caregiving crisis in Italy, where many prefer to live with their aging relatives.” I wonder which aging relatives the machines prefer to live with: eight-track tape players? The Italian equivalent of Radio Shack computers? A 1910 Alfa Romeo? Not to get too English-teachery, but pronouns do need antecedents, and many is no exception.

This one is straightforward. Sexist, but straightforward:

Whether you’re spending time with machine families or humans (costumers, miners, pizza people), I hope you enjoyed this post. And if you didn’t, we apologies!

Goodbye, 2022

My last post of the year, written during this busy holiday/winter-storm/school-vacation season. First up is a cafe menu. Pay attention to the third-to-last line:

CAESAR CONTAINS NUTS, does he? What a clever way to indicate that power corrupts! Or maybe it’s an indictment of Nero, Julius, Augustus, and other CAESARS?

Next is a message from a dry-cleaning shop. It’s a poor quality photo, so I’ll reproduce the words: BUSINESS IS MOVING FROM JUNE TO A NEW PLACE.

A NEW PLACE? Like July or October? What was wrong with JUNE? Too many weddings and graduations?

Now to Seatac Airport in Seattle:

It took me two days to decode this sentence, partly because I lose my mind when I’m traveling and partly because there’s a missing comma. I kept reading the message as FIRE ELEVATORS, a noncombustible (and most likely nonexistent) subset of ELEVATORS. I think we can all agree that IN CASE OF FIRE, signs with instantly obvious instructions are preferable. (With that in mind, I’d be happy to proofread this airline’s signs in exchange for a free trip. If you’re an executive with Alaska Airlines, leave a comment and I’ll get back to you.)

Finally, a van parked on my block:

Wouldn’t it be nice to hire this company for the stock market? The economy could use a BOOM right around now.

BOOM or not, I wish you a peaceful, joyful, healthy 2023.

Oddly Specific

I usually gripe about vague signs, but today I direct your attention to some oddly specific notices, such as this one:

I’m not hugely surprised that dogs are excluded, because an expanse of lawn (in this case, a soccer field) would be a nice place to let Fido off the leash. But would people actually take cats there? If so, I’d like to know how they get a leash on a cat without incurring stitches for the leasher and the leashed. And what’s with the pot bellied pigs? If I were an iguana or a llama, I’d feel left out by this sign. And if I had a pot-bellied pig, I’d never exclude the hyphen.

Another exclusion:

Do I have to point out that ice cream is, in fact, food? For some of us, it’s a major food group. Also, why single out ice cream? Was this store owner once traumatized by mint chocolate chip? Struck in the eye by a cone of rocky road? On a diet?

At least the comparison is logically correct in this sign:

I do wonder about the comma. Grammatically it’s not necessary (some would even say it’s wrong), because the conjunction or doesn’t connect two clauses. To me, the comma sounds a bit defensive: I’m not anti-pigeon! I’m anti-other birds too!

One more bird (sort of), courtesy of my friend Catherine:

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is cat-food-Catherine-e1633093629444-350x260.jpg

So glad the label is clear! Now I know that I’ll have to shop elsewhere for outdoor chicken.

Apostrophes, Sigh

What is it with apostrophes? They show up when they aren’t needed and go AWOL when they are. Here’s an example from the first category, in a blurry photo I snapped from a moving car:

Unless the HOUSES & LAND belong to a man named JOHN BUY, this apostrophe interrupts a perfectly good verb.

Another unnecessary apostrophe, in the plural noun Mondays:

Whoever made this sign tried a tactic I’ve often seen students employ: miniaturizing the punctuation mark. The student hopes that if the word needs an apostrophe, the teacher will see one, and if it doesn’t, the teacher will see an untidy smudge. I should note that hedging a punctuation bet this way never works, in class or in signs.

Now for the AWOL Department. This sign, in an elevator serviced by a major airline that should know better, lacks an apostrophe:

There are more problems with this sign than writing FIREMANS instead of FIREMAN’S. First of all, I sincerely hope that more than one person would respond to a blaze in an airport. A blaze anywhere, for that matter! Thus I have a problem with FIREMAN, a singular noun. Second, the sign has a gender problem. If I were a FIREFIGHTER (a more accurate and inclusive term), I’d be tempted to thwack this sign with my extinguisher and put a dent in FIREMANS.

This one is in a category all by itself:

I wonder what sort of goals a numeral can have. Does 1 aspire to become 2? Aim for 10? Perhaps 1 aspires to a fancier font?

Maybe there’s a 1 somewhere in the world striving to curtail gun violence. I can get behind that last goal, for sure, and you probably can, too. If only the shop displaying this sign could help us refine that goal and create an action plan. That would undoubtedly be in EVERY 1’S best interest.

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!