Tag Archives: signs

For want of a hyphen, the meaning was lost

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Hyphens sometimes seem like relics from the Age of Typewriters, when you had to hit a metal lever to roll the paper to a new line when you reached the right-hand margin, even if you were in the middle of a word. The hyphen told your reader that you weren’t finished yet and that the rest of the word was on the way. (Why do I feel I should explain iceboxes and record players next?) Word-processing programs move the whole word automatically when a margin is about to be breached, so hyphens have lost importance. They’re still around, though, creating compound words. Or at least, that’s what they’re supposed to do. Take a look:

Experienced sales? Sales-help?

Experienced sales? Sales-help?


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I caught sight of this sign while I was walking on First Avenue. I doubled back to figure out what “experienced sales” were. Sales that had seen a lot of life and now had a world-weary, been-there-done-that attitude? Sales that know the lady holding a bagel, venti soy latte, and cell phone is automatically bad news? Or was “sales” meant to be read all by itself as a new, nonsexist term for the older terms “salesman” and “saleslady”? A hyphen between sales and help would link those words and clarify the meaning.

All is not lost on the hyphen front, however. Here’s one that works:

 

One-stop as a single description! Grammarian of the Year Aware to the NYC Information Agency!

One-stop as a single description! Grammarian of the Year Award to the NYC Information Center!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shout-out to the NYC agency that made one description out of two words, one and stop. Shouts (actually yells) to the laundry that mangled this sign:

 

Laundry machine? Machine press?

Laundry machine? Machine press?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What’s a laundry machine? Or a hand press? Yes, I know I’m grumpy grammarian again, because I did eventually figure out that machine press is the opposite of hand press. I’m still not over skirt plested in the top right column, but as soon as it stops raining, I plan to run out to buy two politically correct pajams.

To exit on a high note, here’s a truck with three (count ’em) correct hyphens, which create two compound adjectives:

do-it-yourself

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you’re relocating to New-York (the older form of this city’s name), consider this company. They may ruin your furniture (or you may do that yourself), but you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that the hyphens on the truck are in the proper spots.

 

 

 

 

Don’t Sit the Birds

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Grammar rules may seem irrelevant, but they do provide a frame of reference, standardizing meaning and enabling your audience to figure out what you’re trying to say. In this post, adapted from a page I created a while ago, I offer some signs that left me scratching my head. First up is this gem:

sit birds

 

 

 

 

 

 

This sign appeared above a two-inch-wide ledge outside a grocery store. I understand that you’re not supposed to feed the birds, but I guess you’re also not supposed to bend their little legs to make them sit on the ledge? (Yes, I know the sign-writer probably aimed this request at human beings. But trust me: No human rear could ever perch on this tiny spot.) The meaning, as written, is not clear, but at least the sign-writer was polite enough to say “please.”

Here’s another interesting sign:

What's an "overweight permit"?

What’s an “overweight permit”?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No doubt this sign is crystal clear to truck drivers. The rest of us are left in the dark, which is exactly where I do not want drivers to be as they navigate Park Avenue, one of the busier NYC roads. I want their attention on the road, thinking about pedestrians and other motorists. I don’t want them to wonder whether (a) it’s okay to drive with an overweight truck if you didn’t bother to get a permit or (b) a driver who is a little too fond of 2000-calorie lunches has to get an “overweight permit.”

How long are your feet? How wide are your shoulders? Measure them and then see whether you qualify for the “Package Special” advertised in this sign:

 

Ten inches?

Ten inches?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Items 3 and 4 use a single quotation mark, the traditional symbol for “inches.” The owner of this store may be using the navigational symbol for minutes, which pops up in measures of latitude and longitude. (Maybe the masseuse is a former sea captain?)

One more:

Neighborhood sensation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are they offering “sensation”? Or welcoming it? And has the Vice Squad visited?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Got a D?

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On your report card, for English? If so, you have a lot of company. Increasingly I’m seeing signs with missing “d” sounds, which should be spelled with the consonant (d) or with the past-tense suffix (ed). I imagine that the spelling error comes from the sound of the words, the same kind of mistake that leads people to say “should of,” wrongly expanding the contraction for “should have,” which is “should’ve.” Here are a few signs that rate a D in English:

diner

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It would be nice to think that this diner seats you so that you are never “close” to your neighbor, but as it’s open 24/7, they really should have (should of?) written “never closed.” Keeping on with the food theme, here’s another:

grill cheese

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The disturbing thing about this sign is that it’s in wide circulation. I’ve seen it on windows all over New York City. Forgetting for a moment about cholesterol and food quality, is it too much to ask that someone printing a few thousand signs check the spelling of “grilled”? One more food fight:
old fashion2

 

 

 

 

 

 

I guess you should order “grill cheese” on an “old fashion” bagel? Perhaps you should ask for a discount. Take a look at this sign:

require

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reflection makes this sign hard to read. It says, “ATTENTION: STUDENT WE GIVE 10% DISCOUNT, BUT ID IS REQUIRE.” Where do I start? “Require” needs a “d,” to become “required.” “Student” ought to be “students,” with the colon moved to the end of that word as they are being addressed. But who am I to quarrel with this generous offer? At least the discount goes to the students. Here, elderly lady that I am, I’m on sale for 10% off:

senior

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, I know I’m being picky. But that’s grammar.

 

 

 

 

 

A Name Too Far

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Some years ago I called for a moratorium on ‘n, the pseudo-contraction that’s supposed to take the place of and in expressions such as burgers’ n beer, wings ‘n fries, and other cholesterol-laden linguistic and culinary crimes. Nobody heard me and nothing changed in the public arena, perhaps because the only people present when I called for this were a bunch of English teachers who wouldn’t dream of substituting a grunt for a conjunction.

Allowing hope to triumph over experience, I’m now asking for another moratorium, this time on the invention of cutesy names for beer. Now, I don’t drink beer. I do, however, hang out at times in bars where good draught beer is served. I like watching people enjoy a glass of amber liquid that reflects the sunlight and casts a warm glow. At first, it was fun to read the bar menu and savor names that hadn’t been derived from corporations. Out with Miller, Pabst, Budweiser, and the like, I thought. In with Victory Hop Devil, London Pride, and other creative terms.

Melange a Trois with 3 Philosophers?

Melange a Trois with 3 Philosophers?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But things have gone too far. The unusual has become commonplace and thereby lost its luster. Moreover, the contrived names increasingly leave consumers scratching their heads. When the name column on the beer menu expands to accommodate three inches of letters, it’s time to pull back. Let Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hops Club Brand alone, please. Instead, describe what’s actually in the beer – wheat, blueberries (and by the way, who on earth would ever want blueberries with beer?), bitters, whatever.

I assume that this post will lead to a new trend in beer names, or, at the very least, a batch of Extra Grouchy Grammarian Stout.