Bad Mood

New Yorkers are not normally celebrated for their cheery outlook, and current events haven’t improved the mood around the city. So this photo, sent by my friend Catherine, seems particularly relevant right now:

All natural ingredients!

All natural ingredients.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gripe jelly – gives a whole new slant on “you are what you eat,” doesn’t it? If your New Year’s resolution was to be more peaceful,  you may want to avoid the jelly at this Lexington Avenue deli.

Moving on, here’s a sign from a truck parked on East 78th Street:

I can break my remote all by myself, thanks.

Remote control breaking?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was under the impression that most people break the remote all by themselves. I do it all the time, usually by dropping it in a bowl of whatever I’m eating while I watch TV. But if this sign is accurate, you can hire someone else for that chore. Busy New Yorkers, take note. Alternate interpretation: If it’s too much trouble to attend, say, a political debate and bang your head against the wall in frustration, a techie will break your skull with a keystroke at a distant (probably outsourced) computer company. How convenient.

By the way, if anyone actually understands the meaning of “remote control breaking,” please let me know. In the meantime, snack on some gripe jelly and enjoy your bad mood.

Curation Nation

I spend a fair amount of time in NYC’s museums, so I’m accustomed to thinking of “curate” as something an art expert does. Indeed, the primary definition of this verb is “to select, organize, and look after items in a collection or exhibition.”  So I was surprised to see this sign over a display of snacks:

Separating forged from authentic potato chips?

Keeping the customer safe from forged potato chips.

Okay, back to the dictionary, where I found that you can curate “content or merchandise using professional or expert knowledge.” The sign is correct if a professional snackpicker selected the food. Cynic that I am, though, I couldn’t help thinking that the advertising and marketing of this merchandise benefited more from “expert knowledge” than nutrition and taste did. I declined to test my theory because a glance at the price tags showed that curated snacks cost a lot more than just-throw-it-on-the-shelf stuff.

Once the word was stuck in my mind, I noticed it often in The New York Times. Sometimes the definitions quoted above applied: “The web has gotten so big that you need people to curate it.” No argument there, unless you’re a fan of the candidates-are-from-another-planet sort of story, in which case you’re against the act of curating, not the use of the word.

Other “curate” sentences stretched the definition: “Sometimes you see veggie burgers made with 100 ingredients, a kitchen-sink burger,” she said. “It’s better when you curate a burger.” Here “curate” seems to mean “select,” but I’d opt for curating the ingredients of the burger, not the burger itself.

An even greater stretch shows up in this sentence:  “I started to curate this idea.” Now “curate” is closer to “create,” though you could make a case that the speaker sifted through many possibilities and organized the harvest into a coherent idea.

The one that really got me was a comment from a rock star: “I’ll curate my own brand.” Leaving aside the question of whether a person can or should be a brand, my best guess is that this sentence returns to the museum context for “curate.” The star sees herself as a work of art!

Anatomy Lessons

Thousands of words have been written about the media’s tendency to present unrealistic body images. These signs are unrealistic, too, but in their own glorious way:

Where?

Where?

This shop apparently caters to customers whose toenails center around their spines. If that’s your situation, you’d certainly want a pedicure. Just think how uncomfortable it would be to settle into a chair, lean back, and hit a toenail.

Staying on the subject of feet, I can’t resist reposting this sign (see “Massage Tips”  at http://www.grammarianinthecity.com/?p=1253):

Front feet not included.

Front feet not included.

 

The hyphen in “back-foot” creates one description; therefore, this store massages only your back foot. Go somewhere else if your front feet are sore.

Here’s another sign that assumes some strange anatomical features:

How many upper lips do you have?

How many upper lips do you have?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, “upper lips” and “under lips” may be a general reference to body parts, not a strict count of what’s on a client’s face. But why the singular “chin” then?  A customer is more likely to have more than one chin than more than one upper or under lip, even in this city well supplied with supermodels who wear size zero. And what’s a “side face”? Is each side $10, or do some people opt for an asymmetrical look?

I’m not even going to speculate about the meaning of “Men Ear Wax or Thread.” But if you want to do so, go for it!

Numbers Game

In the spirit of “five out of four people don’t understand fractions,” I present these gems from math-challenged sign-makers:

How much more or less?

How much more and less?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forgive me for relying on logic here, but isn’t “more and less” a contradiction? Perhaps the writer meant “more or less,” a description that could apply to a penny and to a trillion bucks. At least that interpretation might be true.  “More and less,” on the other hand, could only mean . . . well, what could it mean? Ideas welcome.

And then there’s time. Einstein’s theory of relativity (but not math) is alive and well in NYC:

Long week.

Long week.

 

The above photo is from a store named Muji, where a week lasts thirty days. One can only hope that the employees are paid by the hour.

The next sign proves that government is just as “innumerate” (the number version of “illiterate”) as private enterprise:

Weak on "week."

Weak on the definition of “week.”

 

If anyone tells you that government employees indulge in four-day weeks, especially in the summer, whip out this sign. In New York City, Restaurant Week lasts 26 days.

 

“Punctuation”; Puzzles.

The title looks strange — on purpose — and it’s no stranger than the random addition or removal of periods, commas, and quotation marks in NYC’s signs. I wrote about the placement of periods in “Stop Full Stop” (http://www.grammarianinthecity.com/?p=1364). In this post I expand on the puzzles of punctuation. First up is this photo, which my friend Erica Berenstein sent me:

Can you spot the period?

Can you spot the period?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reluctantly leaving aside the issue of capital letters, I can’t figure out the marketing advantage of placing a period after “dream” and nowhere else. True, the list separates the clauses (subject-verb pairs), but then why place any periods at all in this ad?

Microsoft takes a different approach to punctuation, as you see in these messages that popped up on my screen during a recent update:

And the comma is there because . . .?

And the comma is there because . . .?

 

The first part of the statement seems to be a shortened form of “we are getting things ready,” an independent clause. But if that’s the intended construction, the rules of Standard English don’t allow you to attach the first independent clause to the second (“Please don’t turn off your PC”) with a comma. Another possible interpretation is that “getting things ready” is an introductory participle, in which case the participle should modify the subject of the following clause. The problem with this explanation is that the subject of “please don’t turn off your PC” is an implied “you.” But “you” aren’t getting things ready. Microsoft is, or so it claims. By the way, there’s a period missing after “PC.” With such attention to detail, the upgrade promises to be buggy at best.

Here’s another Microsoft gem:

windows2

 

 

Okay, the words make sense, and the sentence begins with a capital letter. It ends with . . . nothing. No period. No exclamation point. Not even a question mark, which, given the state of internet security these days, would be more than appropriate.

Last one. Can anyone find a reason for these quotation marks?

P1020112

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m stumped. Feel free to send in your theories, properly punctuated, of course!

April Fool

Slightly out of season, I know, but like most New Yorkers, I’ve spent this August dreaming of a time when the city wasn’t wrapped in a blanket of hot, wet air. Specifically April, when I snapped these photos and mentally placed them in the “April Fool” category, though I’m fairly certain the creators thought their signs were models of clarity. First up is a statement about a mysterious “shirt machine”:

How are your shirt conditions?

How are your shirt conditions?

 

I’d probably be tempted to use this device if my clothing were in good “conditions.” But my tees and blouses currently feature sweaty patches, grass stains, and one blob of what may be somebody’s used chewing gum. I’m not interested in keeping those conditions “better and longer” or, for that matter, keeping them at all.

From the next sign I learned that the city has a “Business Integrity Commission.” Great. If only NYC had a grammar commission as well:

Recycling what?

Recycling what?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Absent punctuation, the establishment is “recycling used cooking oil services.” How exactly do you recycle “services”? And did someone call a hyphen strike without informing me? I’d rewrite the sign this way: “Bio Energy Development, Inc. recycles used cooking-oil from this establishment.”

One more, also punctuation-challenged:

Refinish repair?

Refinish repair?

As written, the shop is offering “restoration” of antique furniture. They also do “caning,” which has nothing to do (I think) with corporal punishment and instead involves weaving strips of stiff grass into a chair seat. So far, so good. Both services are nouns, and both may apply to antique furniture.

Where I crash and burn is “refinish repair,” which seem to be verbs in this context. Is the store refinishing something it had previously repaired, or are they refinishing and repairing upholstery? If so, a couple of -ing syllables would be helpful. Also, is it possible to “refinish” upholstery? Paging furniture specialists! Send in your clarifications, please. While I wait to hear from you, I’ll dream of cooler days.

 

 

 

Busting what?

Recently The New York Times quoted a politician’s reference to “ordinary people busting their necks.” Instead of thinking about the presidential campaign, socio-economic class, and other important issues, I got stuck on one question: Why “necks”?

When I was a kid, “busting” (or “breaking”) your neck was a description of physical danger, as in “slow down or you’ll bust your neck.” However, the politician was talking about people who work hard, day in and day out. What “ordinary people” were busting, linguistically, were body parts considerably closer to the floor than their necks.

Not to be coy: The phrase the politician should have used was “busting their butts.” But — “butt” isn’t always accepted in polite company. Hence the proliferation of euphemisms, such as “seat,”  “rear,” and “bottom.” And “butt” isn’t the only body-part word to land in the improper column. In the 19th century, ladies ordered “seat fixing,” not “rump steak,” and ate “chests” or a “slice of bosom” instead of chicken breasts.

But we’re in the 21st century, not the 19th. I searched the Internet to see whether the expression had changed. I found some videos with disturbing titles like “busting pimples on your neck,” which I wisely decided not to watch. I also found  references to “break ya neck” in song lyrics. Those were about sex — I think — not jobs.

So the politician’s comment was inaccurate. There’s a shock! At least this time the mistake was in word choice, not facts. I admit I may be missing something because I spend a lot of time “busting my neck” at the computer, composing this blog and writing books. And I also admit that in a campaign season filled with outrageous statements, retaining a bit of shame is somehow comforting.

Odds

A quick search of The New York Times yields 137, 513 hits for the word “odd.” The earliest appeared in 1851, and the word shows up regularly thereafter – never more frequently than in this, well, odd presidential campaign. But this post isn’t about politics. It’s about the odd expressions I’ve seen lately, such as the one on this sign:

Non-renewal?

Non-renewal?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In my apartment-rental years, I signed many leases, but never a “non-renewal” one. I wonder what this sort of lease stipulates. Your lease extends to never? Your new monthly rent is zero dollars? (See http://www.grammarianinthecity.com/?p=1477 for other nonsensical “zero” signs.)

Here’s another odd expression:

Specialized?

Specialized?

I saw this on the side of a truck. Apparently, the contractor “specialized” in bathroom renovations. Good to know, if you’re seeking a renovation in the past. Lacking a handy time-travel gadget, though, potential customers may see a problem here.

One more:

Apostrophe? Preposition?

Missing apostrophe? Preposition?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This sign screams “scam,” and not because of its odd wording, which I presume is the result of omitting the preposition “for” (I buy all cars for cash) and not an apostrophe (I buy all cars’ cash). But aside from grammar, who can buy “all cars”? And how much cash would it take? What would the buyer do with them? Odd indeed!

 

Lemon Ranch

Tucked inside the thousands of words written about presidential politics recently was this sentence: “Richard Nixon was raised on a lemon ranch.” New Yorker that I am, my exposure to agricultural terms comes mostly from the  vegetable aisle in the supermarket and a few television shows.  I’d always envisioned a “ranch” as a place where cattle or other animals live. And indeed, the first definition of “ranch” in my dictionary is “a large farm for raising horses, beef cattle, or sheep.” But I had to put aside my mental image of young Dick Nixon roping citrus fruit — and how much fun it was to think about that instead of current events! — when I saw the second definition, which is “a farm or area devoted to a particular specialty.” Further searching showed me that many Californians work on “lemon ranches.” But in Florida, Belize, and Sicily, lemon “orchards,” “groves,” and “farms” predominate. So now I know what term to use in the unlikely event that I go right to the source for my fruit.

Knowing the favored regional expression may not guarantee that you’ll be mistaken for a native, but at least you won’t shout your status as a tourist. And who wants to sound like a tourist? With this in mind, here are a few mistakes I heard recently from visitors to NYC:

  • “Avenue of the Americas.” Big mistake. To New Yorkers, this street is “Sixth Avenue,” and many won’t know what you’re talking about if you use the official name. Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia tried to do away with the term “Sixth Avenue” in 1945, hoping that Central and South American countries would build consulates there. The plan didn’t work, and the new name didn’t either.
Where?

Where?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  • “I caught the subway at 96th Street.” Nope. You can catch a bus (or a railroad train), but you “get on” or “take” a subway. I’m not sure why. Most commuters in New York run madly for the subway as if it were the last rocket leaving an exploding planet, but they don’t “catch” it.
  • “She works in Bronx.” Nope again. It’s “the Bronx.” Why? That area was once a farm belonging to the Broncks, a Dutch family. You won’t find any farms in “the Bronx” (or lemon ranches either), but the name stuck, with slightly different spelling.

I could say more about talking like a New Yorker. (For starters, it’s “tawking like a New Yawker.”) But I’ll stop now so I can catch the subway from the Avenue of the Americas to Bronx.

Thanks for nothing

Recently I took advantage of New York City’s IDNYC program, which gave me an official photo ID and a raft of free membership offers to some of the city’s best museums. In redeeming one of those membership offers at an institution I won’t embarrass by naming, I received an email thanking me for my “contribution of $0.00” and telling me that donations such as mine “support the work of the museum.” If that’s true, the museum is probably nearing bankruptcy. Continue reading