My blog, Grammarian in the City, is on a podcast! Check it out at Steven Miletto’s Teaching Learning Leading K12 https://stevenmiletto.com/670 Steve and I talk about why I started the blog, how I find material, what constitutes a grammar “mistake,” why I get writer’s block, and much more. I hope you’ll listen to the broadcast.
How do you judge the quality of something you’re purchasing? By listening to friends’ recommendations, checking online reviews, reading tea leaves? Perhaps you place your trust in signs — not omens, but actual signs, such as this one:
This may be the workplace of a superb tailor, but I object to the phrase one of the best. What does that mean, exactly? One of the best on the block? (That’s likely, as it’s the only tailor on the block.) One of the best in the neighborhood? There might be some argument about that.In the country? The world? The universe? (Hey, if there can be a “Miss Universe,” there can be a “Best Tailor in the Universe,” too.) However vague the claim may be, the store has guaranteed it. It would be interesting to see a dissatisfied customer try to collect!
I had to check the dictionary for this next statement of quality, painted on the side of a van. I usually hide company names when I post signs, but in this case, the name is part of the point.
WE STAND UP TO OUR NAME! When I read this sentence, I pictured someone from the High Definition Cooling Company with hands on hips, defiantly facing the name because . . . well, what does a name have to do to motivate workers to stand up to it? Unable to think of a plausible scenario, I turned to the Oxford English Dictionary for other definitions of stand up to. I found “remain firm in the face of” (stood up to a strong wind), “pass a test” (stood up to close examination), and “rise for a purpose” (stood up to dance). I confess I can’t make any of these definitions work.
Nor do I know what this sign means:
Returning to the OED, I read that uncompromising means “not willing to seek compromise,” “stiff,” “stubborn,” and “unbending.” Okay, the signwriter is touting a style and quality that will not change. But what sort of style and quality does the product have? If it’s an ugly style or a poor quality, most people would prefer a little compromise. I would, and in that spirit, I welcome alternative interpretations of these signs and of the style and quality of this post.
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 homecall 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.
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!!!!
Although a number of pet birds have flown around my living room through the years, I tend to divide avian wildlife in New York City into two categories, as this sign does:
Why single out pigeons? Here’s my theory: if you have one or two pigeons, they’re beautiful — a feathered palette of grays and whites with touches of black. But that’s never what you actually have. You have a flock, a megaflock, many megaflocks! You have a pigeony exponential growth-curve akin to the one Covid-19 has, unfortunately, made us all too familiar with.
Pigeons also make an appearance in this sign, which a reader spotted in a park:
The reader remarked that she “would have thought NYC already had plenty of these without anyone having to breed more.” I join her in rejecting this imperative sentence.
Still another pigeon, because, as I said, you really can’t have just one:
You can read this sign two ways. (1) You’re not required to feed a pigeon and clean-up, but doing so would be nice. (2) You’re not supposed to feed the pigeon, but you’re going to do it anyway, so could you please remove the inevitable end product? It’s the law. Which surprises me. I know there are all sorts of laws about snow removal — how much time may elapse after the last flake falls before you must shovel a path for pedestrians, for example. Is there also a time limit on poop? Do you have to sit around staring at the pigeon you’ve just (illegally) fed, so you can scoop the end product? Asking for a friend.
That’s it for pigeons, you’ll be glad to know. But not for birds. Below is one of the first signs I spotted when I started this blog:
Then, as now, I smiled to think of how you would sit . . . birds. Bend their little legs? Offer a chair? I’ll leave you with that image, hoping it cheers you, and any pigeons you’ve befriended.
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 systemdesigned 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!
Regardless first appeared in the mid-16th century as a description meaning “not worthy of attention.” That definition is obsolete, but perhaps it shouldn’t be. In fact, it may be the best label for the current debate about irregardless, which reignited last week when Merriam Webster defended the inclusion of irregardless in its dictionary. Much outrage ensued, regardless of the fact that Merriam Webster and many other respected dictionaries have listed the word for years. All label it “nonstandard” and some “humorous.”
As I write this, many issues are indeed worthy of attention: the pandemic, injustice, and climate change, to name just three. In that context irregardless can’t compete. In fact, even had 2020 not proved to be a strong candidate for “Scariest Year of Our Lifetime,” the status of irregardless would mostly be irrelevant.
Granted, it’s a double-negative. The prefix ir- means “without,” as does the suffix -less, so irregardless, as many commentators have pointed out, effectively translates to “without without regard.” English sometimes adds two negatives and gets a positive (“I couldn’t not ask for a raise,” for example, means “I had to ask for a raise”), yet no one thinks the Rolling Stones are expressing contentment with “I can’t get no satisfaction.” Anyone who knows what regardless means also knows what irregardless means.
Here’s the thing: language lives. It often moves from (1) that’s not a real word! to (2) it’s a real word but educated people don’t use it to (3) class,remember to double the R when you write “irregardless.” We’re currently in stage two.
Regardless of everything I just wrote, I do support standards, and I most definitely support teaching them. Like it or not, what executives and academics deem “proper” matters when it comes time to hire, fire, and grade. Knowing the rules is important — but so is knowing that rules change. Irregardless of my personal preference for regardless, irregardless may someday switch from “nonstandard” to “standard.” I suspect the world, and the English language, will survive.
With all that’s going on, it’s time for a little silliness. New York City sign-writers are happy to oblige, albeit unknowingly. Here’s one from a coffee shop:
The right side is blurred because of the coat-to-chalk effect, so I’ll retype the message here: “Not only was Aretha Franklin the first woman to be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, she was the first woman, period.” One question: Did Adam give her R-E-S-P-E-C-T?
Onward, to an art store:
I’m not “prude” either, but I am a grammarian, and my preference for “prudish” is not “just highly selective.”
Last, an all-too-accurate sign:
We are indeed in a “mean time.” Things will eventually improve, but in the meantime, laugh as much as you can. Then wash your hands.
This post is a challenge: Can you reword these well-meaning but misguided signs, all of which have “do” problems? One point for a grammatically correct answer, two for grammatically correct and punchy, and three for a revision that fits the first two categories and maintains some sort of verb. I’ll tell you what I came up with for each, but fair warning: my revisions are terrible. Ready? Then we’re off to the barber shop:
The original, “We do hot shave,” has to go. My attempts: “We hot shave.” I don’t think so. “We shave hot.” Nope. “We shave hotly.” Definitely no. How about “We stick hot towels on your face before we shave you”? Not unless the storefront widens considerably. (And when did shaving become a team effort?)
Onward, and not upward:
As it is now, this sign feels like a retort to someone who said, “I wish you tailored.” (“We do tailor!”) My revisions: “We tailor and do alterations” and “Tailoring and Alterations Done Here.” Way too formal, way too long. Your thoughts?
Last one:
There’s an easy fix: cut off the first line of the top sign. That earns two points, but can you go for a three-pointer?
I’ll tally everyone’s points. The reader with the highest score will win . . . well, nothing. But DO try anyway.
“Emergency” seems like an important topic these days. Given all that’s going on in the world, it’s easy to panic. Here’s a sign from someone who obviously has:
I’m not here to judge whether step-sitting constitutes an emergency. For all I know, plopping on the staircase might slow a life-saving organ transfer. I do know that the sign-writer has a punctuation emergency, specifically the soon-to-be worldwide shortage of exclamation points. I mean, we can only produce so much punctuation, despite working 24/7 to churn it out! (or out!!!). Be reasonable, people.
And if you can’t be reasonable, at least be friendly:
My first thought, after I blessed the sign-writer for the single exclamation point, was “speak for yourself,” because for many of us, “emergencies” are definitely not “welcome.” Though I guess if you’re bored, the right emergency can add a little zing to your day.
So can a mistranslated phrase:
Yes, help for those pesky infernos is on the way, “to crash in event of fire.” With apologies to the Borg (Star Trek’s best villains, in my opinion), assistance is futile.
