Hy-phen

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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.

Venice

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No jokes today. I snapped this photo in Venice, where I spent ten wonderful days in October. The beauty of the city and the kindness of the Venetians won my heart. I intended to post this photo with my usual snarky remarks on phrasing and language, but I present it now, after (and during) the floods, as a tribute:

My heart is with those who support Venice, and its “defense for the survival of this dream of stones on water.”

Grammarian in a Watery City . . .

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The city being Venice, where I spent ten wonderful days and where at every turn I was startled by beauty, and, occasionally, by some creative use of the English language. Please note that I’m not criticizing here. How could I when I once wrote the Spanish-equivalent of “pitifully, I cannot accept your invitation”? As you read, imagine that I’m smiling gently at these menus. This one, for example:

I’d like to see a “cattlefish,” as long as it’s not stampeding toward me, leaving a trail of inky hoof-prints. Perhaps they reel it in with a lasso instead of a fishing pole?

Here’s another:

I won’t comment on “dishrealated.” I prefer to think of it as a positive, whatever it may be. I’ll just commend this restaurant for its “accurate procedure that leave unchanged the organoleptic qualities,” which, I discovered when I searched the dictionary, relate to the senses. In fact, from now on I’m ordering organoleptically. I also appreciate that the establishment is willing to engage with any “intolerance issue.” We all need help with that these days.

With “respect,” too:

And I thank you, dear reader, “for your delicate attention.” More on Venice when jet-lag abates.

Tell Me Where

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Tell me where I should go when the streets are filled with motor vehicles and I see this sign:

I’m used to dodging texters, squadrons of cyclists, and an occasional Vespa on the sidewalk, but trucks? And will they hear me if I caution them for crossing sidewalk? Maybe I’ll just leave, as all packages referred to in this sign are directed to do:

At least I won’t be alone. In addition to packages, I’ll have doorman to protect me. Speaking of doorman, here’s a building notice that puzzles me:

I get that pofavor is short for por favor, part of a polite request in Spanish. But in front off bldg? Fortunately I don’t smoke, regardless of whether I’m on, off, or in front of a building. Or behind one, for that matter. I do drink wine. Maybe not the last one on this list, though:

I’m not keen to show ripe pear flavor on the nose, mine or anyone else’s. The mineral finish of the Riesling is more appealing, assuming the mineral isn’t something feldspar or mica, which I’ve never sampled but which I assume taste awful. And what’s a leading . . . finish? The middle wine looks like the best bet. Anyone care to join me off bldg for some Pinot Grigio? We can ignore the trucks crossing sidewalk and leave with doorman together, wine glasses in hand.

Individual, or Strip?

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Really, it’s not a choice I have ever made or ever plan to make. But apparently some people do need to decide between “Individual, or Strip.” My question, in addition to why there’s a comma before “or,” concerns how an “Eyelash Application” decision is made:

On second thought, I don’t really want to know. I’d rather ponder still another eyelash dilemma:

So, a single eyelash walks into a bar . . . and gets 50% off? Or is the “first Eyelash” 50% off and all the others offered at the regular, or even double-the-regular price? (Sidepoint: Why capitalize “Eyelash”?) The whole thing sounds like a math problem to me: Calculate how much it will cost to have all your eyelashes visit. The answer may depend on whether you want your “first Eyelash visit” to be “Individual, or Strip.”

One last outrage of English, courtesy of my friend Ellie:

Nicotine-puffers can read this notice in columns (“No Safety / Smoking First”) and nonpuffers line by line (“No Smoking / Safety First”). I’m a nonpuffer but also a noncombatant in the “what does it mean?” war. I do wonder whether the letters were applied to the boat “Individual, or Strip.”

Where?

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If you feel your life lacks direction, take heart. None of these signs will help you, but they will show you that you’re not alone. The first example comes from my friend Ellie:

It’s hard to know where to begin my comments. “In Side” and “Use As Credit At Pump” caught my eye (caught as in “fish hook”). I admit I’m fond of “Inconvenius,” but it’s not a direction, so I’ll leave that and the apostrophe problems alone.

I snapped the next photo on a New York City bus that crosses Central Park:

“Traverse”? I don’t think so! “Traverse” is a verb, and anyway every New Yorker (except whoever wrote this sign) knows that the bus crosses the “transverse.”

This one is more a “who?” than a “where?” but it’s too good to pass up:

Nice to know that we “pedesterians” have a place to walk. At least the signwriter consulted an etiquette book (saying “please”), if not a dictionary or spell-check program. This signwriter did both:

I could question the capitalization rules applied here, but I behave Graciously. You should too.

Nutritional Information Needed

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It’s hard enough these days to know what to eat and drink. There are Keto, Paleo, and for all I know Beto diets. Nor do these signs don’t make the situation easier. In fact, they give rise to questions, which I pose here after each.

How many Arancini could Could Cuts cut if Could Cuts could cut Arancini?

What does a social taste like? And is tasting a social really an event?

Relying on sound, not spelling: Do letter carriers bring Poast Pork to your table?

It’s possible to pay for wine with an I.D? Alternate question: does wine carry its I.D. in a wallet?

Do diners with extra-strong teeth chew plates fresh from the kiln? Also, is there a worldwide shortage of hyphens?

Feel free to answer my questions, or pose your own.

Hair Today, Gone (Please!) Tomorrow

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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.

Food and Drink

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Can’t do without food and drink, right? But I can certainly do without the silliness that appears permanently attached to them on the signs and menus of New York. This one, for instance:

Which hero are we talking about? Wonder Woman, in a traditionally female role? Batman, grilling in the Bat Cave (a traditionally male role)? Or The Flash, serving super-fast food? Also, how does a burger get “certified”? That last question is apparently a serious issue, as some meat producers object to the term “burger” for anything that doesn’t contain meat. They want to prohibit the term “veggie burger,” for instance, and substitute . . . well, that’s not clear. Maybe patty? disk? puck? The menus of America need a hero to step in and solve this language problem.

Speaking of menus:

I can’t decide whether this restaurant is patting customers on the back for ordering a treat that sounds vaguely nutritious or castigating them for ordering any pastry at all. Also, what’s with the “by”? I’d expect the preposition “from,” reserving “by” for works of art (a painting by Rembrandt, for example). I guess the restaurant wants customers to see these creations as masterpieces. And for all I know (I didn’t order any), they are.

I didn’t take advantage of what this sign offers, either:

At least it’s not “outdoor.” If I were ever tempted to grill myself, I’d prefer a little privacy.

Time to wash down all this food:

These days, it is indeed “special” to encounter honesty, which is reason enough to order and pay for two drinks.

Heatwave Relief

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The air resembles tan soup this morning, as the heatwave in New York City staggers off. I’d be staggering, too, without the comic relief provided by friends who sent me these signs. The first is from Joselia:


I hope the cops are looking to arrest whoever “we” is before the chainsaw comes out.

The next two are from Ellie, who lives in a cooler spot (Canada). Please send a cold front with the next set of photos, Ellie. Here’s the first:

Call me lazy, but the thought of trekking to China from Canada just to save walking up or down some stairs is not appealing. And how is that a convenience for wheelchair users?

Another Ellie-gem:

The original caption for this photo questioned whether there was any way to make sense of the display. The syntax suggests that “whole” is a noun. I’m just hoping it’s not a misspelling of “hole,” in which case the first person to walk on that carpet is going to take a plunge. Another theory: The empty window on the right is a fill-in-the-blank. If that’s correct, I’d be happy to spend $99 to carpet my street and a few adjacent avenues. Much more elegant, and quieter, too.

Ellie shared a photo taken by her friend John, but my computer stubbornly refused to save it. The image showed an empty carton labeled “invisible tape.” Maybe the invisible part explains my computer problem: The photo is there, but no one can see it.

The last is from me, snapped during a recent visit to England:

I’m not sure about the “get sun” part, but otherwise, it’s spot on.