When I snapped this photo a couple of years ago, I had no idea how accurate its message would be, nor how long it would remain relevant:
Rough indeed. As Covid-19 turns toddler age, we’re all fraying at the edges. And it shows! Clarity has turned to ambiguity and often dipped into downright incomprehensibility, as in this headline from the Seattle Times:
I’m happy to report that later editions of the paper added an H to pus. I am even happier to confirm that there is no pus in the hepatitis A vaccine — or any other vaccine, for that matter.
Covid has also melted our sense of time:
An hour that lasts from 12:00 PM – 10:00 PM — that’s 600 minutes! I do hope employees aren’t paid an hourly wage. Sidepoint: Why not say Every Day instead of Monday – Sunday?
One last thought, about a photo my friend Sean sent me:
Please DON’T light up Christmas with a can of fuel. The road is rough enough already. Instead, stay safe. See you in the new year!
Now that the holiday season has arrived, it seems appropriate to look at what we’re eating — not in terms of nutrition but rather identification. This is not always easy to do, as this label reveals:
How do crackers qualify as entertainment? They’ve always seem rather boring to me. I imagine the person who came up with this label decided consumers need to be told when to serve the product. But is it really so hard to figure out when to serve crackers? Are there rules for cracker serving, like a penalty if crackers show up in a lunch box?
On the same theme, take a look at this label for a vegan product, a Celebration Roast:
At least the label lets consumers know which veggies and fruit they’re eating when they tuck into a Celebration Roast. But stuffed implies a wrapper or a container (e.g. a turkey), and there’s no way to tell exactly what is stuffed with butternut squash, apples & mushrooms. The celebration?The cellophane the roast is packed in?
These signs offer specific (and useless) description:
Nice to know what shape my ham is in and the color palette and nationality of my cheese. And yes, I do know that American Cheese is the name of a processed product that bears a passing resemblance to cheddar. Nevertheless, I can’t help thinking that these signs lack essential information, such as whether the ham is cured or uncured and how many additives are present in a sandwich made from pear shape ham and yellow or white American cheese.
Bottom line: Please tell me what I am eating. Don’t tell me when I should eat it or what it looks like. Bon appetit!
Today’s theme is zero, with a short excursion into negative territory. First up is this sign, which I spotted while watching the New York City Marathon around mile 17:
I have to admit the statement is catchy. Who wouldn’t want to travel 0 MILES to reach a destination? But the emphatic O MILES obscures a different problem: 2.6 carbs and 95 cals (calories) in . . . well, in what, exactly? A thimble, a jug, or a barrel of BEER? The sign is akin to boasting of something’s being voted “the best” without specifying who cast ballots — perhaps the general public, experts in the field, or the owner’s two best friends. Context matters.
So does clarity:
Performing Arts for All Ages is clear, but the age range is puzzling. How does a 0-year-old engage in performing arts? Also, for how long is someone 0 Years old? Does enrollment take place during labor or at the moment of delivery?
Here’s a sign I saw in Madrid, Spain:
Translation: GROUP ZERO / POETRY AND PSYCHOANALYSIS. I won’t speculate why the group named itself ZERO or what happens in the illustrated room, with its flat couch and rather authoritative-looking chair. Feel free to send me your thoughts on how GROUP CERO might be combining POESIA and PSICOANALISIS.
Worse than zero problems are negative ones, as in this sign in a clothing store:
I understand, but object to, the labels attached to floors 2 and 1, partly because clothing doesn’t have to be sorted into rigid gender categories but mostly because the sign indicates two individuals: a Man and a Woman. (Otherwise the terms would be Men and Women.) The real problem, for me, is Kids -1. Having shopped with kids, I understand the temptation to drop one, but that temptation should be resisted, not codified. Or perhaps this is where you outfit kids who are 0 years old for their performing arts classes? But wouldn’t the floor be 0 in that case? Perhaps they sell maternity clothes there?
I welcome your theories about any of these signs and wish you zero problems in formulating them.
Innumeracy — the mathematical equivalent of illiteracy — is on full display in signs I’ve seen around New York in the last couple of years. Take a look at these:
Notice that Off-Broadway Week is 14 days long and Muji Week runs for 32 days. That’s good news for ticket-buyers and shoppers, but potentially bad news for actors, crew, and other employees. I hope they get paid by the hour, not by the week.
Here’s a sign I spotted on the First Avenue bus:
A note to non-New Yorkers: Manhattan streets are laid out on a numbered grid. The numbers get larger as you travel uptown and smaller as you travel downtown. The photo is a bit fuzzy (snapped on a moving vehicle) so I’ll type out the relevant parts: The stops are 14th Street, 23rd, 34th, 29th, and 42nd. Loopy route or miscalculation? Judging from the ride I took, I can affirm that the latter description, unlike the sign, is correct.
Before you go, check your numeracy by solving a math problem based on this sign:
If Alex and Sasha polish off six, 8 FL OZ servings of this beverage, how many calories does each ingest if Sasha drinks twice as much as Alex?
This is the spot where I should place the answer, upside down so you’re not tempted to peek. That’s beyond my Word Press skills, so I’ll leave you hanging. Post your answer in a comment, and I’ll let you know whether it’s correct. If you have trouble solving the problem, meet me on the uptown bus, somewhere between 34th and 29th Street, and I’ll tell you the answer.
On some of my excursions around New York City, I find signs that are stunningly obvious, the equivalent of a message I once saw on a book of matches: “Warning — may cause fire.” Here’s one such sign:
Does the owner think anyone’s going to pay $26.00 for amateur haircuts & shaves? Professional would seem to be self-evident, given that someone is paying rent, utilities, and so forth to hang out inside and tend to customers’ tresses in exchange for money.
Also obvious is this sign I saw in Midtown:
If you were searching for a satellite, where else would you look? Under the sidewalk grate? Not obvious is what’s holding the satellite. A giant leash? A Star Trek magnetic field? Also, why are they holding it? Send the satellite into orbit, already! Despite the pandemic, rents in New York City are high, and Space is free.
Also unclear is the meaning of this message, which I glimpsed on the side of a van belonging to a cleaning service:
I have always assumed that every doorman in my building showers, with perhaps an occasional bath as a change of pace. That a doorman might opt for dry cleaning never even entered my mind. Now that the thought is there, though, I wonder whether the dry cleaning ticket is pinned or taped on, and to which body part. Actually, on further reflection, I’d rather not know.
One more puzzler, to balance out the pair of obvious signs earlier in this post:
The bar looks old, so I’m not questioning the age of the place but rather the quotation marks around 100, which are most commonly used to indicate a direct quotation. That doesn’t seem likely here. Nor is it likely that the marks signal doubt about the accuracy of the information enclosed by quotation marks, as in We listened to Henry’s “singing” until our eardrums ruptured. The dates show 100 years (2021 – 1921 = 100). So why quotation marks?
Grammar has a bad reputation, which it sometimes deserves, because many grammar rules are just conventions. You wouldn’t misunderstand this sentence if I deleted the apostrophe, would you? But some rules, such as those governing the placement of descriptions, serve a real purpose. That purpose is clarity, which this label lacks:
There’s no cat or chicken in my New York City apartment, so I am clueless about the nature of the product in this photo, which my friend Catherine sent me. So help me out here, cat/chicken fans: Is this FOR or FROM a chicken that lives indoors? Can an indoor cat eat outdoor chicken? Side point: Does the designation kittens to adults mean that this product is intended only for the feline equivalent of a teenager?
The next photo comes from my friend Mary:
I’ve watched Ray’s show and feel confident that she’s neither a cannibal nor a dog killer. Thus I’m not asking law enforcement to find out whether there are any missing Ray relatives, and I won’t petition the SPCA to check on the dog, who appears uncooked and healthy in this photo. However, I wouldn’t mind turning the headline writer over to the grammar police on a first-degree, misplaced-modifier charge.
I also recommend that law enforcement investigate this business, a restaurant in Midtown I glimpsed through a bus window. I was so surprised by the sign that I hopped off at the next stop and walked ten blocks back to double-check:
Pharmaceutical catering? Huh. What exactly is on the menu? Have these caterers given a whole new meaning to “food for thought”? Has the Food and Drug Administration approved the menu? Should the Drug Enforcement Agency get involved?
All this talk of food has given me an appetite. As I tuck into my indoor, completely legal, non-psychoactive lunch, I wish you bon appetit with yours.
We live in dangerous times. In addition to the pandemic, what used to be once-in-a-century weather catastrophes now take place every month or so. But danger comes from more than climate change and viruses, as these signs make clear. First up, a notice affixed to the fence around a motel pool, photographed by my friend Kim:
I can deal with children who splash water all over everyone. I don’t mind an occasional collision with someone who swims laps faster than I do. But if the Carnivorous can’t control themselves in the pool, I’m out of there. Fellow swimmers should not be dinner.
Nor should employees. Jeff sent this photo of a burger restaurant’s sign:
I don’t think minimum wage, or even much more than minimum wage, compensates new hires properly if they have to hop onto the grill or run themselves through a grinder. I prefer a secretingredient that’s free of human DNA, don’t you?
From Sean:
The image is a bit small, so I’ve retyped the message here: Citizen Disposal Facility. I wonder if that’s where you end up if you don’t pay your taxes in the County of Fairfax?
Also from Sean, an appropriate response to the above sign:
I should probably conclude this post with a disclaimer in order to forestall the spread of cannibalism stories on social media, which would inevitably give rise to anti-cannibalism protests and then to anti-anti-canibalism protests by those who want the freedom to snack on their own elbows. The last two signs come from garbage dumps. The Country of Fairfax opens its facility to citizens who need a place for refuse. The last sign explains how to package refuse (noun, accent on the first syllable, not a verb (accent on the second syllable).
Cannibalism isn’t on the rise, as far as I know, but misinformation is. That’s the real danger these days. Stay safe!
As the world crumbles — for indeed, that seems to be the only appropriate description of current events — I hope you’ll enjoy distracting yourself for a few moments with these signs. The first arrived courtesy of my friend Ellie:
A few questions: what happens to boys with long hair? Do people with short hair roam free? Who’s being thanked, and for what?
Moving on to facial hair:
BESPOKE, according to the dictionary, means “made for a particular customer.” Thus BESPOKE is the opposite of mass-produced. I admit I don’t know much about makeup, but isn’t BROW work inherently individual (i.e. BESPOKE)? Is there a production line somewhere fabricating BROWS?
Staying on the face:
I waited more than a year to take this photo without scaffolding blocking the sign, but the way things are going, the construction project will probably last longer than the shop. My question: do amateurs rent stores for EYELASH EXTENSION? Is there an accrediting body to attain PROFESSIONAL status?
Last one, spotted during a trip to London in simpler times:
How does one EDIT HAIR? By deleting an unnecessary strand? Inserting a barrette? Rewording the hair’s thesis statement?
My objections to these signs are petty, the very definition of “splitting hairs.” Nevertheless, if you come up with answers to any of the questions I’ve posed — or to any of the problems plaguing the world — please feel free to post a comment.
We all like to eat, right? And most of us like to eat right. We do our best to select nutritious and delicious food that doesn’t bust the budget. But finding such food isn’t always easy. Indeed, sometimes figuring out exactly what you’re buying can be problematic. Take a look at this item, which my friend Sean spotted:
What is it with the canine references? A couple of posts ago I showed you a sign indicating a “large bread dog park.” Now someone’s putting pastrami on Snoopy! This label is also evidence of (in my opinion) a culinary crime. Lettuce and pastrami shouldn’t go together on a beagle, a bagel, or anything else.
The next photo comes to you courtesy of last night’s dinner:
The meal was quite tasty, but I did wonder whose hands were involved with my salmon, and how. Handcrafted, my dictionary tells me, means “made skillfully by hand.” Unless my biological knowledge is faulty, salmon make salmon, and fish don’t have hands. Yes, I know the handcrafted part might refer to grilled. In that case I hope the hands wore heatproof mitts. Otherwise those dark stripes on the salmon were . . . well, let’s not go there. I ultimately decided that handcrafted is similar to artisanal (a label I have also seen applied to fish). Both mean “you’re paying too much.”
I did not buy this dessert, but I did wonder what the store was selling, and to whom:
Is this treat intended for an extremely small lover of chocolate? Or is the store informing the customer that the chocolate bits in the sundae are undersized? Maybe the sundae is smaller than the size the store usually sells. The whole thing can be resolved with punctuation: I favor a mini, chocolate-lover’s sundae. Actually, I favor a maxisundae, but I shouldn’t indulge.
I hope this sign, like the previous one, has a punctuation problem, because if it doesn’t, someone better call the cops:
I live in New York City, so irony is my default tone. Thus I’m fairly sympathetic to “scare quotes,” the print version of “air quotes” — punctuation that writers insert to distance themselves from whatever’s inside the quotation marks. The problem is that sometimes readers can’t tell whether the quotation marks indicate a definition (as they do above), an exact rendition of someone else’s words, or an eyeroll. Take this sign, for example:
I’m not sure why NO appears inside quotation marks. If these are scare quotes, the signwriter is saying, “Cyclists, you are not supposed to park here, but [wink wink] you will anyway and I won’t stop you.” It’s also possible that the signwriter may be quoting someone: “Don’t blame me! The owner said NO.” Putting aside the punctuation issue for a moment, I still don’t grasp the intended meaning. Is the sign protecting cyclists (“There’s a HAZARD here for you!”)? Is it trying to safeguard pedestrians, who may trip over a parked bike? Keeping cars and bikes separate? Inviting cyclists to leave their bikes because there’s NO PARKING HAZARD? I can only speculate.
Nor can I determine the function of the quotation marks in this photo, sent by my friend Ellie:
Frankly, I have no idea why quotation marks appear in this sign. Nor do I know why there is an ellipsis (three dots) after flowers. Unfinished thought? An attempt to create suspense? I’d take a scalpel to this sign, excising two dots, both quotation marks, and one exclamation point. Then I’d use the scalpel to cut myself some flowers.
Another sign suffering from excess punctuation:
Here’s what I know for sure: the restaurant needs HELP in the KITCHEN. It also needs HELP in signwriting. The business is seeking a COOK and . . . well, I’m not sure who else. There may be two spots open, one for a DISHWASHER and another for a DELIVERY person. The forward slash in DISHWASHER/DELIVERY implies that one employee is supposed to wash a few pots and then dash out with a DELIVERY. Three exclamation points convey desperation, though perhaps not enough to raise the salary being offered to a potential COOK, DISHWASHER and DELIVERY person. PETER, if you see this post, please clarify. Readers’ theories also welcome!
