Tag Archives: grammar

Hy-phen

I couldn’t resist inserting a hyphen where it doesn’t belong, “hyphen” being, well, un-hyphenated in proper English. I hope the title balances the scales a bit, because so often hyphens are omitted where they’re sorely needed. In this sign, for instance:

Okay, I admit I’m taking this one personally. My name is Woods, and I do have a kitchen. I also have a “specialty” (grammar), but except when I’m trying to follow a poorly written recipe, my “specialty” and “cooking” don’t intersect. Hence the need for a hyphen. If I’m “Specialty-Cooking Woods,” I’m frying a predicate nominative or baking an adjective with, perhaps, an adverbial sauce. If the hyphen slides to the right, this company delivers “Specialty Cooking-Woods.” I prefer to think of those products as cedar, oak, or something similar, though if the owners pay me enough, I’ll make dinner. My specialty is “Clean-Out-the-Refrigerator Soup.”

Before I leave this sign, I should address “Gourmet Hardwood Charcoal.” A “gourmet,” the dictionary tells me, is “a connoisseur of delicacies.” Thus this sign evokes foodies chowing down on “hardwood charcoal.” This is not a hyphen problem. It’s a dental, or perhaps a “Don’t you have anything better to do?” problem. Next up, employment:

Leaving aside the “team” issue (though customers are often treated as the competition), I’m choosing to focus on “Part Sales Mate.” Huh? If the position is “part-sales,” what’s the other part? Or is the job selling a “part”? And what’s with the “mate”? Are the owners seeking a “part-mate”? Part-mate, part-something else? I’m leaving this one in the “life’s too short to worry about stuff like this” bin.

Last, for today at least, as hyphen-problems reappear as often as villains in superhero films:

Two townhouses? Two compounds, each with two buildings? And in a “double garden,” do the veggies and flowers appears in pairs?

That’s it for today. I off in search of a garden, single or double, with or without gourmet woods.

Hair Today, Gone (Please!) Tomorrow

I’m not hoping for baldness but rather for a change in signage pertaining to hair. What is it about the human version of fur that obsesses us? I don’t know the answer, but I do know that these products and services are beyond ridiculous. An example:

First of all, I hope no one goes to this salon hoping that Francis Ford or Sofia are employed there as stylists. Second, botox? Seriously? Just what I’d like for my hair: a neurotoxin that causes paralysis.

Onward but not upward:

I could say quite a lot about this sign. For example: Why specify “goatee beard”? Is there a “goatee eyebrow” or a “goatee cheese” that I don’t know about? But the line that most interests me is “Crew Cut Senior Citizen.” For the record, I’m a senior citizen and I don’t have a crew cut. Nor do I want one. I prefer to read this as a headline for an article beginning “The crew of the USS Scissors cut a senior citizen yesterday. NCIS is investigating.”

Another non-beauty:

This photo and the previous one are from different salons. Perhaps they share a grammarian (or rather, they should share one). In both, apostrophes are a problem. (“Children Haircut”? Men Haircut?) Also, both offer the customer a “shape up.” Presumably the $20 version comes with a trainer, diet plan, and access to exercise equipment. For $10, the salon owner just yells at you until get your act together.

That’s it for today. I have an appointment to get my hair cut, because, as this salon put it, I need an “edit”:

Do take photos of your favorite hair signs before, like the “summer edit festival,” they’re gone.

Rapid Response Team

Some signs call for lengthy analysis, and others merit no more than a rapid response. Here are a few particularly odd signs that fall into the second category. From a tech store:

Okay, fine. Can we start by fixing the apostrophe that should appear in the first word of the sign? Then maybe move on to the pronoun-agreement issue (“tablets and phones” and “it”)?

From a department store:

Where, exactly are the little guys being cleared to? I’m not asking why, because as an experienced mother, grandmother, and teacher, I already know that an occasional, short “clearance” of kids is appealing.

Before I move on, I’ll share one thought. Wouldn’t it be nice to imagine the apostrophes missing from the first two signs are having lunch together? And speaking of lunch . . .

Is there anyone who prefers an uncracked egg? Or an egg that cracked a couple of weeks ago but is only now hitting the bagel?

One more mystery:

If it’s a “NO BUTTS BIN,” are you supposed to put the butt in or keep it out? Or — and I prefer this answer — not have a butt at all? And what’s that squiggly mess on the left side? (I saw it up close, and it wasn’t any clearer in person than it is in the photo.)

Please feel free to send in answers to these questions. And if you find two stray apostrophes, tell them to come home to their signs.

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?

Et Tu, NYT?

I once offered my students extra credit for every grammar error they found in print. Fairly soon I was forced to exclude mistakes from a couple of newspapers. Had I not done so, every kid would have received an A+. It was just too easy! But The New York Times was different. Finding a poorly worded sentence there was tough — then. Now, I’m not so sure.

Here’s a pull-quote that should have been pulled before it hit the screen or page:

Gentile?

What a difference one extra letter makes! I’m not going to speculate about the nature of “gentile” affirmations or how they differ from Jewish affirmations. Instead, I will proceed to another lapse in grammatical judgment.

This pull-quote comes from an obituary:

Surf that was used for D-Day?

I hadn’t realized that it was possible to “use” a surf, let alone “for D-Day.” Misplaced modifier, anyone?

One more, from my archives:

Printed before Amazon selected sites in Virginia and New York.

“Square foot modern.” A new architectural style?

In fairness to my local paper, I have to forgive the editors who overlooked these mistakes. No one’s perfect. As we all know, to err is humane.

Year End Thoughts

With only a few days left before 2018 hits the history books, I’m offering some holiday advice, culled from signs I see in the few NYC stores that haven’t been wiped out by e-tailers.

First, party hearty, but maybe not this hearty:

I took this photo in early December.

I won’t quibble about “Opening on January 2019.” If they are “close” because they’re sampling wine for most of a month, the mistaken preposition is understandable, if not inevitable.

Next, shop locally. I wasn’t kidding about the effect of online commerce on the city’s landscape, and from what I’ve read, the same is true in suburban and rural areas. I’m planning some purchases here:

You never know when you’re going to need an exclamation point!

I don’t wear contact lenses anymore, but I may stop by for new glasses and a couple of spare punctuation marks. A store with a sense of humor deserves to stay in business.

Last, a resolution for the year about to begin:

Grab that handle!

Judging by the headlines, 2019 will be bumpy. To make the world a better place, we all have to “PULL A LITTLE HARDER.” Actually, a lot harder. Happy New Year!

Grammarian in Dublin, Part 2

I don’t know whether everyone in Dublin has kissed the legendary Blarney Stone (“legendary” as in “imaginary or invented”), thereby picking up facility with language along with whatever microbes the previous kisser left behind. I do know that words seemed, to this tourist, more intriguing in Ireland than in many other spots I’ve visited, such as West 34th Street or Brooklyn Heights. Take this sign:

Alouders unite.

“Alouders” isn’t in the dictionary, but who cares? It’s easy to recognize “alouder” as “reciter.” Easy for everyone and everything except for autocorrect, that is, which keeps trying to change “alouder” to “alder.” I may never see “a poem as lovely as a tree,” to quote Joyce Kilmer, but I’d hate to trade the spoken word for a forest. 

Then there’s this sign, cemented into an outer wall of the Museum of Decorative Arts, which is located in a former military installation called the Collins Barracks:

I have two theories about this sign. It may mark the location of a last-ditch line of defense. I mean, what else are you supposed to use if you run out of bullets and your saber’s edge is dull? Or it may be an art project, a cryptic reference to what can break bones. (I couldn’t find a similar panel labeled “Words That Can Never Hurt Me.”) 

 Perhaps my favorite Dublin sign is this one:

Grammar School

The school building has undoubtedly been modified since its founding more than four centuries ago. But St. Patrick’s Grammar School is still there, and still in session! Across the street in the Marsh Library (established in the 16th century also), a grammar book used by some of St. Patrick’s original students is on display. 

That’s not blarney. That’s education.

Twenty Something

Regarding the title of this post: “Twenty,” because that’s the number trending on signs around town. “Something,” because the message of each of these signs means something. I just don’t know what. Take this sign (please, please take it away):

I like a discount as much as the next person, but I’m a little hesitant to buy a “damaged boxes item.” And no, there was nothing under or near the sign to give me context. No damaged boxes, no item.

Here I know what they’re selling, sort of, but there’s still a problem:

Actually, several problems. Once you say “Coca-Cola,” doesn’t that narrow things down, making “beverage” redundant? Are there Coca-Cola sandwiches? Cookies? (Forget I asked. I don’t want to know.) My real issue is with “200Z,” which looks like a serial number. Given the nearby illustration of more sugary beverage than anyone should ever drink, I’m assuming that “200Z” needs a space, as in “20 OZ,” the abbreviated form of “20 ounces.”  I’m not sure whether the pizza crust and sauce under the pair of cheese slices are included in the $5.95 price, but at least the store inserted the hyphen correctly.

I saved the best (actually the worst) for last:

If you hope to meet a regular customer, your odds are 4 out of 5, I guess, because  “today” has “20% new clients.” Actually, new “client’s.” I was tempted to erase the hyphen with my sleeve, but I can’t spend all day deleting apostrophes from NYC signs. I have better things to do, like figure out what the shop offers. The part I glimpsed through the window left me clueless. Besides, the sign may be referring to something belonging to the 20%, in which case the possessive is appropriate.  The only problem, aside from the fact that there’s no indication of what’s possessed, is that the apostrophe should appear after the letter S (the plural form), because “20%” implies more than one person. They can’t chop up one person!  I think at least twenty-something percent of us can agree on that point.

 

Happy Halloween!

Before or after you hit the trick-or-treat trail, take a minute to enjoy  these holiday photos. This one comes from my friend Milton:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Punking” seems perfectly suited to the “trick” part of the Halloween slogan, don’t you think?

Mary Shelley’s famous novel, Frankenstein, is also a good fit for this holiday. The Morgan Library has a fine exhibit celebrating the 200th anniversary of the monster, who, by the way, has no name and is actually much less monstrous than most of the human characters in the book. (Frankenstein is the name of the doctor who sewed body parts together and animated the creature.) I learned a lot from the exhibition, including this information about early theatrical performances of the classic work:

Leave it to Mary Shelley, inventive in so many ways, to add an apostrophe and the letter S to a row of hyphens to create a possessive form of “the unnameable.”

Once Halloween is over and you’re fighting sugar rush and paying dental bills, you might plan for another holiday, one that tends to be stressful. Show this sign — sent by my friends Pilar, Naomi, and Aracelly — to any of your unruly offspring:

“Behave or I’ll drop you off.” Simple but effective! But before your kids call Children’s Protective Services, be sure to explain that you’re just punking them.

What’s Open?

When my son was little, we couldn’t walk down our block without having the baker rush over with a piece of bread, the dry cleaner offer candy, and the deli clerk donate a cookie. Toddler paradise! When I walk down that same street with my granddaughter, her experience is different. So many stores have closed! E-commerce and, I’ve read, some unwise rent laws have led to a surge in vacancies. What’s open, and when? These signs offer absolutely no help:

Given this timetable, I expect another empty storefront soon. Here’s another:

I’m happy about the “Grand Open”; at least the storefront isn’t vacant. I do wonder whether the $29 price includes both feet. I also wonder how long after the “grand open” I’ll see this sort of sign:

Near where the “out business” used to be is this sign, professionally printed and posted all over a building under construction:

According to the dictionary, “amenities” are “desirable or useful features of a building or a place.”  This sign is okay — grammatically, at least. Winding through scaffolding to play billiards or to sit near a communal wine cellar before your apartment is constructed is not okay, at least for me. But if you don’t care, go for it.

Although the word is correctly used in the last sign, I couldn’t help thinking about another definition of “amenities”: “social courtesies.” Sadly, everything I see in our public life shows me that this sort of “amenities” is absolutely NOT “now open.” If we can’t find our way back to civility, I fear that soon we will also be “out business,” and not just from 11 to 12 each day.