If you know, you know . . .

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A former student of mine recently put out a call for catchphrases unique to a family. If you’re in the family, you know the meaning. If you’re not in the family, you don’t have the faintest idea what’s going on. These signs fall into the “if you know, you know” category. They make perfect sense to somebody, somewhere, but they puzzle to the rest of us. Here’s one:

What does RADIANT TUBING do? And what is it radiating — joy, sunlight, cosmic rays? Why must we BEWARE? And does BEWARE mean “don’t come within three miles of this sidewalk” or “take your piledriver somewhere else”? Theories, or better yet, actual information, welcome.

Another enigmatic ad:

I live in the sort of neighborhood where doing one’s own chores is not a given. Even so, I’m surprised that someone would hire someone else for BREAKING a REMOTE CONTROL device. In my experience, all you have to do is throw the thing at a wall. The wall generally cracks, though. Maybe that’s a reason to hire a pro?

It’s well known that some of us are not technologically literate enough to figure out an app. So it would not shock me to see a service offering help with, say, downloading, installing, and using an app. But the service offered by this sign goes a step too far:

I don’t need someone to PICK-APP for me. I can select an app all by myself!

Last one:

No, this doesn’t refer to a haircare product. It concerns parchment paper. Does anyone actually measure and cut the paper and then reinsert it for Decurling? This definitely falls into the life’s-too-short category for me. I use my hands.

Wishing you well in these dog days of summer! If your family has a catchphrase, feel free to share it.

In Memoriam

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I vividly remember the night in December 1980 when John Lennon was shot and killed. Contemporary news accounts reported that Yoko Ono, his wife, wasn’t injured in the attack. That’s wrong, I remember thinking. The same bullet that took Lennon’s life also took the life Ono had with her husband. It took the life Lennon’s children had with their father. Homicide isn’t a dot. It’s a circle.

I’m writing about this topic today, instead of making my usual snarky remarks about grammar, because a few days ago a former student of mine was gunned down in the lobby of an office building on Park Avenue. Only 43, Wesley Mittman LePatner was a bright light in high school and a bright light in adulthood – a loving mother and wife, a wise mentor, a responsible and generous citizen. The gunman killed Wesley and three other innocent people because somewhere in his sick mind their destruction made sense and because our society failed to keep a powerful weapon out of his hands.

I think a lot about language, as readers of this blog know, so I paid close attention to the words used to report this crime. Alerts on my phone reported “police activity,” then “active shooter,” and then “containment.” Bloodless words for a bloody deed. To be sure, the authorities are rightly concerned with preventing panic. It’s not appropriate for them to scream with the emotion they undoubtedly feel.

But the rest of us should scream, for as loud and as long as it takes, until the insane level of gun violence and our collective tolerance for it falls as definitively and finally as Wesley did. May her memory be a blessing, and may it be a motivation.

Something’s Missing

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Every once in a while I see a sign that’s missing something: a letter, a word, a punctuation mark, or, all too often, clarity. Consider this notice, which was chalked on an old-fashioned sandwich board near the entrance to a rather fancy (i.e. expensive) food store near me:

I’ve cropped the photo, but nothing I removed answers this question: Place your party platters & cake where? The sign appeared at the beginning of a holiday season, so presumably the store was hoping for advance notice instead of a same-day request to rescue a host who invited 235 people to a celebration despite having only two olives and a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator. Which I’m pretty sure in my neighborhood is not all that rare. My sympathy is with the sign-writer, who neglected to squeeze the word “order” into the message.

This notice, which my friend Andie sent me, is missing an important definition:

I’m guessing the store doesn’t want to Refund any money to its customers. But what does Redone mean? (And why are Refund and Redone capitalized?) If I buy a salad and report that it’s a bit vinegary, for example, will the store rinse off the leaves and apply new dressing?

I’ve held onto this sign for a while, trying to decide whether it’s an insult to neighbors (RESIDENT TRASH) or an attempt to fend off TRASH that turned tourist and went sightseeing inside this bin:

Theories welcome.

I doubt I’ll ever patronize this establishment:

Some crucial information is missing from this sign: How deep are the cuts? Are we talking scalp-scrapes or decapitation? Also, do the police know?

My late husband spotted this sign some years ago, in a major-appliance store that went out of business soon after he snapped the photo:

What’s missing from this label, of course, is a list of the food that comes with — w/ — this Refrigerator. Is it stuffed with macadamia nuts and caviar or leftovers from the manager’s lunch?

All joking aside, we’re all missing something these days. Whatever you’re missing, I hope you find it!

Tiny Marketing

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What’s the opposite of “mass marketing” — the attempt to reach as many customers as possible and (unofficially) to bloat my email spam folder? I’m calling it “tiny marketing” — the attempt to reach a specific sort of consumer. Very specific.

Take this store, for example:

I was not surprised to see a going-out-of-business sign show up in the window of this shop. After all, they were marketing to one KID (indicated by the apostrophe’s position before the S) instead of to all AMERICAN KIDS, for which they’d need to place the apostrophe after the S.

The audience for this sign is also rather small:

Opera singers who are into DUMPING GARBAGE into an ARIA — how many can there be?

I truly don’t know how many vehicles this sign addresses:

Question: When you’re riding on ALT BUSES, what sort of alt rock is piped in? May I suggest Nirvana and the Foo Fighters? Maybe a little U2?

This product could have wide appeal, but somehow I doubt it:

I’m not sure I’d ever want my portrait painted, but if I did, I wouldn’t want Abraham Lincoln looming over me. I’d rather be in a canvas by myself.

One last photo, with no-question-about-it mass appeal:

Unless you want Shower Caps that ensure wet hair, this product’s for you. I imagine that’s all of us. I know that’s all for this post. Happy first day of summer!

City Reflections

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I will never love another city more than I love New York, but Madrid comes close. Much made me smile during a recent visit there with my older granddaughter, including some signs.

This one was posted next to the elevator in our hotel:

My granddaughter pointed out that whoever proofread “even just taking the instead of the elevator” should probably have climbed THE STAIRS to increase blood flow enough to notice that some words were missing. She also wondered if the sign implied that residents shouldn’t TAKE THE STAIRS at other times of day. I got stuck on the phrase by the time you get to work. Does that mean work begins at noon or later? We never found out, perhaps because we invariably took the elevator and our brains never got any extra blood flow.

This poster was in the window of a convenience store:

Translation: Water with Gas and Alcohol. In Spain, seltzer is “water with gas,” so I understand that part. But GAS & ALCOHOL? Is the ALCOHOL in question vodka, whiskey, rubbing, or something else? Neither of us wanted to purchase a bottle to find out.

Notice the red-and-yellow swatch on this sign, an allusion to the Spanish flag:

As I snapped the photo, I thought how lovely it is to be proud of your connection to your country. That’s not always the case, as these photos of a box containing a knee brace reveal. Here’s the front:

And the bottom:

The last photo is blurry because I had to enlarge print that was quite a bit smaller than the two flags on the front. Is there a consumer who needs to know the international nature of this product before buying it? If so, that consumer isn’t me. I just wanted my knee to feel better (and it does).

Whatever location you’re in, I wish you a pleasant day!

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.

Grammarian Abroad

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Travel is enlightening — but also befuddling. Having just returned from vacation, I’m reliving my adventures by examining signs I spotted during this trip and others. I find myself more confused than ever. Here’s a sign posted on the window of a school in Venice:

Three lines are simple to decode: They teach English, French, and German. But what’s Inglese Postcoloniale? My translation app says “Postcolonial English.” Okay, which colony are we talking about? America after the Revolutionary War? Britain after the Empire morphed into the Commonwealth? A variety of English spoken in former Italian colonies?

Next is a sign my family spotted in Tokyo:

Does the collision occur only when the pedestrian is oncoming, or is an outgoing collision also possible?

Judging from this sign, pedestrians in London should certainly proceed with caution:

I’m all for Road Safety in London (and everywhere else), but killing pedestrians For your own Safety seems counterproductive.

Amid the confusion, I did find one perfectly clear sign:

Bravo, Madrid! Bravo, hotel owner! Even the most jet-lagged travelers, assuming they speak English, can understand this message. Would that all our communications were so easily decoded!

No decoding needed for this message: I wish you happy travels, on the road and in your dreams.

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.