Category Archives: Now trending

Observing and all too often criticizing language trends

West Coast Woofers

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I’ve spent the last few weeks in Seattle, which has been called “a city that loves books” because of the large number of bookstores, libraries, and book sales there. How lovely to be in a city of readers! Even more impressive: it appears that not all of Seattle’s readers are human. Take a look:

I wonder whether any members of the bark-set have objected to the missing punctuation.

Speaking of the bark-set:

Pay attention, Fido! Keep quiet, Rex! You don’t want a tow-away to the (gasp!) pound. (And yes, there’s some red tape stuck on the sign. I didn’t stick it there. If I had, the sign would have been much sloppier.)

These homeowners are less threatening , more polite, and probably just as earnest about their request to neighborhood dogs:

“Be respectful“: now that’s a message I can support!

Moving on from woofers, here’s an excerpt from a plea for kitten adoption:

While Squirrel’s profile appeals on many levels (who can resist feather wand toys?), I balk at living with a cat that loves to eat a chorus, no matter how out of tune the singers’ performance may be.

I choose to believe there’s hope for Squirrel. If West Coast Woofers can read, they can teach Squirrel to resist noshing on a tenor. Maybe they can even persuade the human population — not just in Seattle but everywhere — to be respectful. That would be something to bark about, even in a tow-a-way area.

Overshooting

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We live in confusing times, so it’s nice to know that some people are working hard to explain things, even if their explanations sometimes overshoot the mark. Here’s an example:

Shower caps do more than add fashion flair! Who knew?

This screenshot is a few years old, but it’s worth another look:

I have it on good authority that the dead former Treasury secretaries declined to comment.

My friend Constance and her husband noticed this headline:

And the galaxies that aren’t in the universe? How old are they?

One more:

Has anyone tried COLLABORATING apart, in this CHANGING WORLD or in a non-universe galaxy? If so, let me know how it works out for you.

Also let me know if you spot an interesting sign or headline. In this universe, those of us who are living (with or without dry hair) should be collaborating together.

Questionable Photos

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These days, when friends ask me how I am, I offer an overly dramatic account of my recent bout with Covid, for which a boxing referee would immediately award Covid a TKO. It’s taken me three weeks to get off the mat . . . er, sofa. (See what I mean about overly dramatic?) Unable to pursue my usual pastimes, I’ve been combing through my backlog of photos. Here are a few I find questionable, in that each gives rise to a number of queries.

Take this one, for example:

Is there anyone walking around with only half a head? If so, are highlights really that person’s biggest concern? Also, if you blowdry half a head, does the other half stay wet?

Next up is a photo snapped by my friend Orli Shaham, a renowned pianist:

Her comment: “They must be delicious after they’ve been smoked.” My question: Is this concert venue affiliated with the restaurant in my neighborhood that keeps trying to hire a grilled man?

In these troubled times, most of us have questions about the future. I certainly do, along with a couple of questions about this sign:

My questions: How much for a regular Palm? And who decides whether someone has a Special Palm?

Last one, an excerpt from a letter a co-op board sent to my friend Constance:

Question from Michael, Constance’s husband: What do we do when we have used up both hands? My questions: Do waived hands hang out with waived rights? Or does the building management confiscate hands that have been waived? Actually, scratch that last question. I don’t want to know.

I do want you to send me photos, if you spot any questionable signs. Be well!

Novid No More

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For more than four years, I was a “Novid” — someone who hadn’t had Covid. Two weeks ago, the little red line finally appeared on my test strip. Feeling not terrible but not great, I spent the short periods of time between naps examining the language of this disease. “I got Covid,” people say, but it seems more accurate to say “Covid got me.” Ditto for “catching”: I wasn’t standing around with a mitt, like a Yankee outfielder. The virus caught me.

As I recovered, I roamed around the Oxford English Dictionary, a word-nerd’s playground. The OED defines “contagious” as “”where the notion of mutual contact is present.” Notion? I didn’t get an idea. I got a sweaty, exhausting experience. Another definition of “contagious” is “charged with the germs of an infectious disease” — as if I’d run up a hefty credit-card bill (crowded subways, theater performances, restaurants) and now had to pay. Fair enough.

This wouldn’t be a proper Grammarian-in-the-City post without a couple of signs. Here’s one from the pre-vaccine era:

Why practicing? It’s not like playing the piano!

Here’s another, same time period:

Nice to know that you can stay on the sidewalk, but your FACE COVERING IS REQUIRED TO ENTER THE BUILDING. Not sure how FACE COVERING will get there, given the absence of legs, but hey, it’s REQUIRED.

Thankfully, that era is over, though Covid is not. We’ve learned to live with it — actually, to live through it, if we’re lucky. I am, and I’m grateful. I wish you good health!

Unlikely

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Living in New York City has taught me that just about anything is possible. I’ve witnessed — really, I have ! — a pedestrian taking advantage of a rainstorm to shampoo her hair, a subway argument being simultaneously translated into Chinese, Spanish, and Russian by fellow passengers, and a briefcase-toting adult wearing a tutu. Somehow, though, I can’t see the messages on these signs as anything other than unlikely, if not impossible.

First up is a sign I spotted at my local farmers’ market:

I’m not much of a drinker, but I can see the appeal of Locally sourced Whiskey, be it Single Malt or Peated. What makes me groan is Grown. (Sorry, couldn’t resist the pun.) Is there a field of Whiskey bushes sprouting near NYC? Near anywhere? Or are we talking about inebriated ghosts who live locally?

My older granddaughter spotted this sign and highlighted the phrase Costumers Only:

Unlikely restriction, for sure. What also catches my attention is the command to STOP UTENSIL SPAM. Is the store campaigning against ultra-processed, canned ham? Unlikely. But so is the only alternative. According to my dictionary, SPAM refers to a large-scale email campaign. Who knew that a UTENSIL could access a computer! I wonder what sort of message a UTENSIL would send out. An invitation to the Tine-Appreciation Society? A public service announcement about sharp plastic knives?

One more:

This restaurant has been Grand Opening since 1991. That has to be a world record.

In the likely event that you come across an unlikely message on a sign, please send me a photo.

Mysteries

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I spend a lot of time watching detective shows. (Side point: Be super alert if you live in or visit a picturesque British village. The murder rate there seems to be extremely high.) On most shows, the answers are clear by the end of the episode. Maybe that’s why I like to watch them: I’m a fan of certainty, which is definitely not a characteristic of the signs in this post.

First up is a notice I spotted on the door of a tenement in my neighborhood. For non-NYers, I should explain that many NYC restaurants, hoping to attract takeout customers, hire people to distribute paper menus to apartment buildings. It’s not uncommon for residents to wade through piles of paper between the outer, unlocked door and the inner, key-only entry. Annoying for sure, but I must admit I can’t imagine any scenario that fits this sign:

DANGER? Really? There might be DANGER if MENUS are present, because someone might slip on an unsteady pile. But surely there’s no DANGER in NO MENUS? Oh, wait! I just thought of a DANGER. With NO MENUS, someone might actually have to cook. But what’s with the graphic on the left? It looks like a cross between the “OK” sign and the “slippery surface” image, and I’m completely stumped.

This one was across the street from my favorite farmers’ market:

First, UWS is short for “Upper West Side,” a Manhattan neighborhood. Second, this sign appears on a store that will begin selling beauty products in SUMMER 2024.. All that is clear. But what is The Viral Hand Cream? A cream containing viruses? If so, which ones? I am not a fan of e-Coli or Covid. Somehow, I don’t think I’m alone in that opinion.

This last sign was taped to a glass-fronted cabinet next to the door of a restaurant. Inside the cabinet was a menu, perhaps banished to that location after putting apartment dwellers in DANGER:

What needs to be in Print? How many copies are required? Who’s supposed to do the job? Does Kinko’s offer onsite visits — photocopying housecalls, so to speak? And why would someone use this method to communicate?

Any and all theories welcome.

If at first you don’t succeed . . .

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“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” This old adage advocates not only persistence but also repetition. And unlike many counselors, the adage follows its own advice, doubling up on try. Is repetition a good idea in signs? I’ll let you decide after you take a look at these.

Jenny, a student in my writing class at Hugo House (www.hugohouse.org), sent me this one:

Technically this sign isn’t repetitive, because PRICE changes to Prices as the font grows. Why? That’s a puzzle, as is the whole sign. What’s with all the empty space and the solitary O? And why repeat? Perhaps for emphasis: “Hey, customer, we really mean it!” Maybe to scold: “Had you listened the first time, we wouldn’t have to tell you again.” Either way, the punctuation in the last line is a problem. Quotation marks most often indicate the reproduction of someone’s exact words. However, quotation marks can also distance the quoter from the quotation, the visual equivalent of a wink and a nod: “We say LOW PRICE but we actually charge double. And just try cashing in on our GUARANTEE!” A third possibility is that the sign writer followed the recent trend that employs quotation marks as attention-getters. I’m not happy with that usage. It’s hard enough, these days, to separate fact from fiction.

Moving on, here’s a sign I spotted in a dry-cleaning shop:

Why make two statements about PERC? Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t NO PERC ODOR a given when there’s NO PERC? Or does someone sell PERC ODOR to people who enjoy chemical smells but don’t want the liver and kidney damage that PERC brings?

This sign’s repetition is the least of its problems:

So they BUY . . . CASH for CA$H? Good to know, though I’m left wondering what the exchange rate is when you convert CASH to CA$H. What really bothers me, though, is the offer to TURN YOUR OLD BOY FRIENDS JEWELRY INTO CA$H. If the statement has something to do with ownership, it should read BOYFRIEND’S JEWELRY or, for someone with an active dating life, BOYFRIENDS’ JEWELRY (the plural possessive). Do I have to point out that turning someone else’s adornments into CA$H is theft? Worse than the apostrophe error is the possibility that AND might be missing from the space between FRIENDS and JEWELRY. Even if you hate your OLD BOYFRIENDS, you can’t swap them for CA$H. You really can’t!

On that stern note, I’ll say BYE BYE for today.

Recommendations

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Today’s post offers recommendations for ordinary people, all levels of government, and the US military. The first is for those seeking entry to this shop:

Should you PUSH or PULL? English generally reads from left to right, so the bi-color message DON’T PULL / PUSH ONLY makes sense. But because the colors create columns, you can also read it as DON’T PUSH / PULL ONLY. I recommend you stand nearby until someone exits. Then simply slip through the open door.

Different store, same problem:

Which takes precedence: the official blue AmX sticker telling you to Push or the green-paper Please DO NOT!!! PUSH THE DOOR? As with the other sign, I recommend you wait for someone else to solve the problem. I also recommend a tax on exclamation points. The first one would be free, with a $10 charge for each additional point. It’s a win-win situation. Either the deficit will plummet or public discourse will calm down. Government officials, are you listening?

Here’s a risky sign I spotted eight years ago. To this day it remains in front of the United Nations:

Obey the wrong sign and you risk a ticket (if you’re lucky) or a crash (if you aren’t). I recommend you park your car and walk.

This recommendation is for the military’s newest branch:

Space Force, we need an investigation into satellites being held above Midtown.

I’d like to end this post on a positive note. Here’s a clear, polite sign sent by my friend Constance:

My final recommendation: send me all the silly signs you spot!

What’s For Lunch?

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In my neighborhood, just about every store that isn’t a nail salon is a restaurant. Thus it’s not surprising that enterprising food purveyors do whatever they can to entice customers, including displaying these signs:

The price of one of these LUNCH SPECIALS ($15) isn’t unreasonable in New York City, especially considering that they’re offering WOODFIRED SANDWICHES, which are . . . well, I don’t know what they are. Bread charred by burning branches? Unemployed victims of forest downsizing?

My friend Catherine sent this one:

I had no opportunity to speak with the SANDWITCH, who I assume was selling a consultation lasting as long as it takes to drink a cup of FREE COFFEE. If I had, I would have asked about the accuracy of the spells in Harry Potter as well as the rationale for enclosing FREE COFFEE in quotation marks. Perhaps the brew isn’t actually COFFEE?

I should note that the prices listed below have increased since I snapped the photo:

Inflation or not, who could resist an offer to DESIGNED YOUR OWN SALAD? Also, 16 oz (ounces) equals one pound. Thus the restaurant is offering a one-, two-, or three-pound salad, each with 1 meat and unlimited vege. I must ask: Who has room for much (many?) vege after eating three pounds of DESIGNED SALAD?

Last one:

If Mom gets Fri, who gets all the other days? I’m a Mom, but I prefer Tuesdays. Can non-Moms get the LUNCH Special on Fri?

My advice is to choose a restaurant carefully, eat well, and in the spirit of today’s MLK holiday, find a way to work for a more just world.

Simple Gifts

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With their variety of holidays, December and January form a season of presents. I’ve been thinking about a few simple gifts our pained world needs. Here’s one:

You could read this sign as an admonition, a short of “shhh” to shelled species who aren’t all that noisy anyway. But I prefer to think of Turtle Pond as A Quiet Zone for thinking. The gift of reflection.

Food’s on my list, too. Not the pretentious, overpriced stuff on sale in my neighborhood’s food boutiques, but basics for the underfed:

Granted, the sign doesn’t specify what’s in the yard of food, but surely there’s some nutrition? I’m hoping the money the shop did not spend on a competent sign-writer went to quality ingredients. The gift of nourishment.

The next one’s more personal:

Who doesn’t need a Relationship Manager? Everyone I know, not to mention a number of governments, could benefit from understanding that our fates are intertwined. I fantasize that the Relationship Manager would deliver this message with in a firm, parental tone. Then, like chastened children, we’d slink back from the brink of destruction we’re currently dancing on. The gift of safety.

I end this post, and this year, with the gift I received last week. My family and I were at a holiday parade. We had arrived late and couldn’t penetrate the crowd. My six-year-old granddaughter had a great view of knees and coat hems but no chance of seeing the marchers. But then a boy in front — on crutches, perhaps ten years old — noticed her. Instantly he offered her his spot. There are good people in the world, I realized. He gave me the gift of hope.

May you have that, and more, in 2024.