Category Archives: Now trending

Observing and all too often criticizing language trends

Say Wath?

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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!

Numbers Game

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Recently I heard an AI-generated voice announce that the next bus stop would be “One Oh First Street.” Huh? I’d made peace with the same voice on a different bus alerting me to the stop for “Central Park TraVERSE” (accent on the second syllable, missing N) instead of “TRANSverse” (accent on the first syllable). But “One Oh First”?

With numbers, accuracy matters. Unfortunately no one told the person who designed this description of the M15 bus route:

Check the middle: E 23 St, E 34 St, E 29 St, E 42 St. In other words, after stopping on E 23 St (East 23rd Street), the bus zips to E 34 St (East 34th Street) and then doubles back to E 29 St (East 29th Street), whereupon it loops up to E 42 St (East 42nd Street). Mathematicians, NYC Transit needs you!

So does Social Security:

Check the age groups. According to this ad, if you’re 71, 72, 73, or 74, you’re out of luck. No new benefit for you!

This message popped up on my friend Catherine’s computer. It has all the right numbers, but the meaning is bonkers:

For non-techies, 404 is a computer-generated code indicating that you’ve entered a wrong or obsolete web address. The numbers are supposed to be followed by what Wikipedia calls “a human readable reason phrase.” Well, I’m human and I read, but I fail to see reason here. How can you find something that doesn’t exist? That’s a question for philosophers, as are these: If I’ve reached that page, does my computer exist? Do I?

This page does exist, thanks to those who creatively mangle the English language. Keep at it, people! We need reasons to smile. And if you spot silly signs, please send them to me along with the snarky comments they inspire. With your help, Grammarian in the City will never be a 404.

Sizing Up

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How do you choose your food? I consider nutrition, taste, and price, but judging from these postings, people who sell shrimp and olives believe that size is the most important factor. Take a look at this offer:

Colossal? The dictionary definition of colossal is “vast in size, amount, extent, or scope.” Not the ideal term for a shellfish you can pick up with a salad fork. To be fair, I should mention that shrimp sizing begins with tiny and progresses through degrees of small and medium before hitting oxymoron status with large and jumbo, arriving eventually at colossal and then super- and extra-colossal. And here I was thinking that all those stories linking fishing and exaggeration were a baseless attack on fishermen! And fisherwomen. All fisherpeople, in fact.

Shrimp are small fry compared to olives. Here’s a chart I snagged from the internet:

I won’t comment on MAMMOUTH except to say that it would be a great name for a snarky extinct mammal. Nor will I discuss SOUPER, a word that makes me wonder whether anyone puts olives in, say, clam chowder. I will direct your attention to the extremities of the olive scale: BULLETS and ATLAS. Which would you rather eat? I prefer BRILLIANT and SUPERIOR, in hopes that I’ll become what I eat.

One more (non-edible) size for your consideration:

This isn’t the clearest photo, so I’ll reproduce the last two lines here:

3. 10″ foot massage

4. 10″ shoulder massage

If you have a 10″ [inch] foot or shoulder, this salon is for you. Otherwise, you’ll have to content yourself with a mani-pedi for $60. That’s not a colossal deal, but it’s not tiny either. Enjoy!

Restaurant Reviews

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Hungry? You might try these restaurants (or not). First up is a shocking sign I spotted a few blocks from my apartment:

I wasn’t shocked at the pairing of SNACKS and VAPES. Legend has it that people get the munchies” when they vape. But I couldn’t imagine what would qualify as EXOTIC SNACKS in New York City, where just about every cuisine is not only available but ubiquitous.

Then I noticed this sign, sent by my friend Terena:

Now that’s an EXOTIC SNACK (and a generous dietary limit)! I think I’ll avoid this restaurant, as well as the restaurant displaying the sign below, sent by my friend Sean:

No word on Yelp about any of these businesses. To me, that’s a good sign.

Opening and Closing Thoughts

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This sign popped up between Delta and Omicron (Pandemic Standard Time):

I get the exhilaration of this business and many others as they celebrated the return of walk-in customers. I’m not sure I get why this shop is back open — either word alone would deliver the message — but I won’t quibble. Joy all around.

I do wonder about signs not related to pandemic restrictions. Why do so many stores feel the need to declare themselves open or closed? Lights on, people inside, door ajar = open. Dim, dusty interior without humans = closed. It’s obvious.

Which is why this sign, spotted by my friend Catherine, puzzles me:

“Good for you,” I thought when I saw this. “I’m happy that you opened. Any plans for what you’re going to do now? Sell something, perhaps?”

This sign was standing near the door of a local restaurant:

“Nice that you opened for LUNCH,” I thought, “but that information doesn’t help me if I want, say, dinner.” I would have gone inside to inquire, but the restaurant was closed. At lunchtime.

Another closing:

I didn’t know a water fountain could be closed, temporarily or not. Then again, I didn’t think you could close this either:

Does Mother Nature know?

My thoughts on this topic are now closed, but I reserve the right to bring them back open.

Small

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In the food world lately, the smaller the better — or at least that’s what many signs imply. Here’s one I spotted at a farmers’ market:

I guess single-herd is supposed to hint at greater quality control, but for me the message is overriden by the thought of a herd of salami.

If there’s a stampede, maybe some of the salami would end up here:

I posted this photo a few years ago, commenting on the price increase signalled by adding PE to SHOP. Now I’m thinking about NEIGHBORHOOD. Can outsiders shop (or shoppe) here? Does the owner sell only to locals?

Onward to a coffee bar:

I understand the flavor advantage of “freshly roasted” beans, but small-batch puzzles me. A batch of any size can be botched. In a big batch, the odds improve that you’ll end up with at least a few good beans.

Then there’s this label:

I wonder what the label-maker thinks handcrafted adds. Is the term supposed to hint that a chef carefully slices the fish and tends the barbeque? What I think handcrafted adds is about two dollars a pound. I bought the product anyway, not because I avoid “machine-crafted” food but because the fish looked delicious. (It was.)

That’s it for today from my small, local blog, which is also handcrafted. I do all my own typing.

An Attentive Pedestrian

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Readers with sharp eyes and a keen sense of humor often send me photos of signs they’ve spotted around the city. These are from Constance, an attentive pedestrian whose witty observations brightened my day.

First up is this gem:

Should wheelchair users head in the opposite direction or move backwards in the direction indicated by the arrow?

Now to the river:

The caption on the sign is rather small, so I’ll reproduce it here: “For your safety please keep to the right.” Are pedestrians expected to balance on the railing or dive off the walkway? And how does either option enhance your safety?

Onward to a shopping district:

Is this sign the reason I see so many discarded masks on the sidewalk? Can a mask, or a mask-wearer, sue for being denied entry?

Have these muddled messages given you a headache? If so, this sign will probably not help:

How far away is the Pharmacy when it’s not on lunch break?

Please feel free to send me your answers, along with photos of silly signs you’ve encountered.

Traffic Jam on the Information Highway

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Signs and labels are supposed to offer information, but sometimes the message doesn’t reach its destination. Take a look at this ice cream container I bought recently:

I admit I’d never given much thought to where the cherries in Cherry Vanilla ice cream came from until I read this label’s proud claim to country-harvested fruit. Ever loyal to my urban home, I hesitated before dropping the package into my cart, wondering whether I should search for ice cream made with city-harvested cherries. Unfortunately, Second Avenue is not rife with orchards. Even Orchard Street on the Lower East Side is treeless these days. So I bought the product, reasoning that the label’s reference to vanilla and cherry flavor with other natural flavors and cherry pieces implies more lab-harvesting than anything else, and the lab could indeed be in my home city.

Onward to Broadway, courtesy of my friend Orli:

As Orli pointed out, the construction of this sentence depicts Audra McDonald as packed with suspense. Anyone who’s ever seen her perform knows that Ms. McDonald is packed with talent, which no amount of suspense can replace. I, for one, plan to buy a ticket.

Now to the front door of a medical office:

Verbally granted access? Um … okay, if you say so ( and you literally must, according to this sign). Yet I can’t help wondering what other type of granted access doesn’t measure up at this location. Are buzzers banned? If I enter through the door an exiting, silent patient holds open, will I be thrown out?

As always, theories welcome. And as we approach whatever wave of the pandemic is next, I hope you stay safe!

This Is Not a Post

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It’s a promulgation, the fanciest near-synonym of post I could find. Fancy, by the way, is today’s theme. Here’s a paragraph from a catalogue mistakenly delivered to my mailbox:

I leafed through the catalogue but didn’t notice any serpentine candlesticks or large-scale hummingbirds (and I definitely wouldn’t buy any if I did). Instead I focused on expressive materiality, which means . . . well, what does it mean? I’m thinking quadruple pricing, but maybe that’s just me.

Onward and upward to this sign on a recently completed apartment building:

To protect the guilty, I try not to include company names, but I will tell you that the building has “Manor” in its name, a word equal in snootiness to Sculpted in Stature. All sorts of construction machinery littered the site for a year or so, but no stone-sculpting tools with which to carve Stature. And how does one carve Stature? Does that even have a meaning?

Skip the misspelled word on line three and go directly to the fourth line of this sign:

All this to describe paint! If only one person is making it (the sign says craftsman, not craftsmen), small wonder that the product is made only in small batches. Then there’s formulation and curated collection — words I reckon cost an extra hundred each, per can. Or jar, or whatever they sell curated paint in. Grecian urns? Space capsules? Something expensive, that’s for sure — unlike this completely free promulgation about snobbery.

Oxymoronic

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I’m tempted to drop three letters from this post’s title when I contemplate these photos. First up is a label on a pair of jeans I bought this weekend. (Those aren’t bullet holes, in case you’re worried, but rather the remains of the label fastener.)

The jeans fit fine, but I still don’t know what to make of the product description.

Next up: the front and back labels of some shampoo my friend Catherine bought for her cat, Lionel:

So far, so good. Apples and honey sound pleasing, though I don’t know whether these ingredients appeal to cats. Speaking of ingredients:

As I’m sure you know, ingredients must be listed on labels in order, from most to least. Question for the manufacturer: What’s the main ingredient in your waterless shampoo? Answer: Um . . .

I snapped this one a couple of years ago:

Sidewalks inside? And they cost only $10? Even allowing for inflation, that’s a pretty good deal.