Monthly Archives: April 2010

April 30, 2010 · 8:37 am

Sociology lessons while U wait

Earlier in this business travel season I had the opportunity to spend 11 hours in the Dallas-Ft. Worth airport.

When I posted on Facebook the news of my prolonged delay, four out of five Friends recommend I head for the bar.  My inner shopper begged for retail therapy.  Instead, I went gate hopping.  Every hour or two I got up and sat at a different gate.

I observed travelers and imagined their back stories.  I spotted trends and differences.  Surprisingly, there were more commonalities than differences among travelers at a given gate, from certain mannerisms to the ways in which adults related to their children.  I wondered how these might be linked to their destinations. 

I was seated at one gate when an arriving flight came in.  I watched as passengers entered the airport.   Each one was extraordinarily obese.  Oddly, nearly all passengers wore thin, frayed tee shirts, yet they did not seem to know each other.  One by one, each man who came off the plane sported an enormous, pendulous belly.  It was surreal.  And the women, also terribly overweight.  I was ashamed of myself for noticing, yet I couldn’t look away.  Each woman’s huge breasts dangled freely, inadequately supported by proper garments. It’s like the flight originated in a city without modern lingerie. 

I desperately wanted to know where they had flown in from. It must have been somewhere warm, as it was still winter and no coats or jackets were worn.  Was it a charter flight to a taping of The Biggest Loser?   Was it a city on Men’s Health magazine’s list of 10 Fattest Cities?  I thought about asking a passenger innocently, “From what city did this plane depart?”  But then, I just couldn’t come up with an honest but polite response to, “[insert city], why do you ask?”

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April 29, 2010 · 5:07 am

Lay down your peeves

Personally, I find the “Got milk?” ad—and every tired play on it—peeve-provoking.

I found myself tempted to ask, “Got peeves?”  in a tone of ridicule but thankfully, I had my answer before I had the chance to type those clichéd words.

Comments I received on a recent piece on poorly written song lyrics showed that my readers are bursting with word usage gripes, off the radio as well as on.

So, friends, this playground is safe.  Let ‘em out. 

I have a top 10 list of my own, in no particular order.  If there’s sufficient interest, we can explore each one in detail at some later time.  

Apostrophe used to form a plural.  I don’t like to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it’s tempting when the tag reads From: The Smith’s. 

“I” used as an objective pronoun, as in please send your response to Mary and I.  If Mary drops out, send your response to I?  Really?  Conversely, some of the same people bugged by I turn right around and say, she is as old as me.

“Myself,” other than as a reflexive pronoun, as in, if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact myself.  You cannot contact myself because you are not I.  Also, “myself” is not an intelligent substitute for “I.”

“Different than” instead of “different from.”  This one appears to have cropped up lately and is getting out of control, even among the most articulate of speakers.  Someone please do something.

Prepositions as sentence-enders.  I realize the rules have relaxed on this one and I am willing to accept that, where it makes sense.  Where it does not make sense:  “How long were you gone for?”  “Where did you get that from?”  “How late will you be out til?”

Random quotation marks.  If you are going to put something in quotes, someone better have said it.  Who said, Wipe your “Feet?”   This example comes from the “blog” of “unnecessary” quotation marks  – check it out for a chuckle. 

Mispronunciation.  One example, Pulitzer is PULL-it-ser, not PEW-lit-ser.  NU-cle-ar, not NU-cue-lar.  I could go on—and will.

Punctuation outside the quotation marks, when writing in the United States.  I realize the Europeans do it differently but, until Jeopardy is filmed in the UK, I’d like the clue-writers to put periods and commas back inside the quotes.

Adverbs preceding absolute adjectives—such as unique, true, accurate or pregnant.  Nothing is “very unique,” “so true,” “completely accurate” or “a little bit pregnant.”  It is or it isn’t.

People who don’t think good grammar matters, especially public speakers.  I read an analogy once that likened good speech to a practiced art.  The commentator noted that, when we go to a musical performance and a singer hits the wrong note, we don’t say, “that’s all right, I know what note he meant to sing.”

Wow, it’s hard to stop at 10.

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April 28, 2010 · 4:44 am

Operation Buzzword

Marketing firms have perfected the art and science of crafting compelling campaigns.  The best campaigns reach a level so deep that targeted consumers are left with indelible memory retention, emotional engagement and motivation to act.  Think back to some age-old advertising slogans.  Even after more than 20 years, we remember the peace of mind we had upon hearing “Don’t leave home without it.”  Or “Plop plop fizz fizz, oh what a relief it is.”  Or “You’re in good hands.”  

We know that marketing  and ad campaigns see the light of day only after they have been fleshed out, flushed out, looked at upside down and inside out, extensively field and focus group tested, to ensure the message reaches targeted eyes and ears in the most stirring manner possible.

I found it interesting to read recently that military operations are named using a similar process.  In “Operation Name Game:  Where Military Might Meets Marketing,” The Washington Post’s Christian Davenport looks at how U.S. military operations in Iraq and Afghanistan are named–so as to rile the troops, intimidate or soften up the enemy or comfort those on the home front. 

For example, he points out that campaigns directed internally at the troops (e.g., Operation Scorpion Sting) are named differently from those aimed at local population (e.g., Glad Tidings of Benevolence) to elicit the desired response.

He added that campaign crafters are also charged with identifying potential downsides, to avoid serious consequences – such as being ridiculed in late night monologues.  Davenport upholds Winston Churchill as one of the best marketeers in history but notes Churchill didn’t have to worry about Leno.

But think about it.  The same opinion research, buzzwords and psychographics are in play among military strategists that might have gone in to Staples’ Easy Button.  Click; it’s that easy.  Northrop Grumman should get in on that one.

Read Davenport’s piece; it’s brilliantly written.

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April 27, 2010 · 5:25 am

The ants are my friends

They’re blowing in the wind.

Mondegreens.  What a cool name for a mistake.

The term reportedly was coined in 1954, in Sylvia Wright’s “The Death of Lady Mondegreen,” published in Harper’s Magazine.  In the essay Wright wrote that, as a child, she misheard a line in a ballad and subsequently sang “and Lady Mondegreen,” instead of “and laid him on the green.”

Ten years before there was a term for it, a novelty song based on the concept had listeners all over the world singing:   “Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey.”

Humor columnist Dave Barry wrote occasionally about such matters.  I remember one in particular that appealed to my inner Sylvia Wright.  The song was “Help Me Rhonda.”  For those of the Beach Boys generation, stop and think; can you sing the first line?  Here’s a hint.  It begins with “Since you put me down…”  Barry felt compelled to point out that the second part is not, “there’ve been owls puking in my bed.” I am still not sure what the lyrics really are because the liner notes make no sense.  Puking owls make more sense.

There are plenty of other famous mondegreens:  CCR’s “there’s a bathroom on the right” and Jimi Hendrix’ “’scuse me while I kiss this guy.”  And everyone loves that favorite Christmas carol, “Deck the Halls with Buddy Holly.”

I had a friend in college who sang The Police’s “Canary in a Coal Mine,” as “Mary in a coma.”

Another told of her little brother singing “Cracklin’ Rosie peed on the floor.”

And who can’t name two mondegreens in the same line of Manfred Man’s “Blinded by the Light?”  Please keep those to yourselves, as this is a family blog.

Anyone have any clean ones?

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April 26, 2010 · 7:37 am

Today is history

My blood was literally boiling (just making sure you are paying attention).

Yesterday morning on Weekend Today, an error-filled news caption hit me like finger flick between the eyes.  Occasional errors happen—everyone’s human—and,  given it was Sunday, I decided to be charitable and give the show a chance to notice and correct it before the end of the piece.  It almost always happens that way.  A misspelled word or other error appears in the caption but the next time it appears, it’s been corrected.  Not this time.

The caption read, “Single Mom’s of Choice” and focused on women who opt for artificial insemination over waiting for a mate.  Of course the first thing that jumped off the screen (not literally but almost) was the misplaced apostrophe in Mom’s.  Then I noticed the erroneous preposition.  It should have read Single Moms by Choice, not of Choice.  Single moms of choice would mean someone chose them.  The whole caption needed to be scrapped.

Jenna Wolfe had introduced the piece by saying that “one out of four children are raised by a single parent.”  Come on, where are the editors?   As the sloppy caption popped up for about the fourth time, “Relationship Expert” Robi Ludwig explained that for women over 35, “their options for fertility is decreasing.” 

I had already choked on my French Roast during Jenna’s earlier blathering about something, I can’t recall what because all I heard was, “I was like…and Lester was like… and then I was like…and then he was like…”  Is this a morning news program or the cafeteria at San Fernando Valley Junior High?

That’s it.  Charles Osgood, I’ve loved you for years.  You are smart and articulate and your stories are intelligent and interesting.  I’ve seen the error of my ways.  I am moving to CBS where the writers, producers, anchors and reporters don’t share one brain cell.

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April 24, 2010 · 7:50 am

Busted

I am pathologically compliant.  I obey the law, play by the rules and follow instructions. 

So you can imagine my shock yesterday morning when Central Casting sent their most type-cast North Carolina State Trooper to make me feel bad about myself.

Let me back up a bit.  I was driving home after a long week On the Road.  If you’ve been following my adventures (very un-Kerouac, I assure you), then you know I’ve been enjoying alone time in the car, listening to songs alphabetically on my iPod.  I am up to the F’s.  It was a sunny spring morning and I was singing along with Jackson Browne’s “For a Dancer” when I noticed a twinkle behind me.  I pulled over.

“Ma’am, I clocked you going sixty-nine in a fifty-five,” the trooper said.  I said nothing.

He took my license and registration and, when he returned from his cruiser, handed me a Uniform Citation and said, “This shows I caught you going seventy in a fifty-five mile-per-hour zone.”  I thought to myself, 70 in a 55 sounds serious.

I responded, “You said I was going sixty-nine.”

“I was confused,” he said.  “The last person I pulled over was going sixty-nine.  You were going seventy.”  That’s fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit.  He acceded that the speed limit on that road switches back and forth from 55 to 60, but it happened to be 55 where he stopped me.  He said, “I suggest you appear in court.”

I asked once again why he wrote the citation for 70 mph when he initially told me I was going 69. 

He essentially said, “I’ll see you in court” and walked away.

I sat there staring at the “Defendant Copy” of the citation.  I have never been a defendant.   I’ve never even seen the inside of a court room.  Suddenly I felt ashamed.  My compliance streak was busted and so was I. 

So I got back on the road, stayed in the right lane, and went exactly the speed limit the rest of the way home.  For 200 miles, one aggressive driver after another tried to run me off the road.  Where were all the troopers in North Carolina and Virginia then and why was no one nabbing the speed demons who were on my tail?  Automotive sodomy must be legal in those states.

I’ll be travelling by air next week and will be happy to be out of the car for a while.  Now if I can just stay alert during the boarding announcements (see Word Nymph April 12).

Note:  Just a reminder that Sunday is a no-blog day for the Word Nymph.  This week she’ll be curled up reading the North Carolina traffic code.

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April 23, 2010 · 7:55 am

Imagine my expression

How many of us middle-agers have uttered a phrase in younger company that they couldn’t visualize?  For instance, “you sound like a broken record.”  Huh?

Have you noticed how some once-everyday expressions have achieved obsolescence before our very ears?

There’s a bar in my son’s college town called The Flip Side.  I’ve wondered if patrons know the old single records had two sides, Side A and “the flip side.”  Of course, considering many college kids have embraced records after all these years, this one may be legit.

Having only recently gotten rid of a television that had an actual dial, I don’t think “don’t touch that dial” seems that far off.  But the concept is.  Who cares if the viewer touches the dial?  He’s probably TiVoing another show anyway.

When was the last time you “dialed” a telephone number?  Even if it’s been 30 years, I am betting the voice mail greetings of three out of five of those over a certain age instruct callers needing immediate assistance to “dial zero.”

“Go ahead and talk, it’s your dime” is right up there with “I’ll call you tonight; will you be home?”

There have got to be more.  So shift into high gear and share any obsolete expressions that turn your crank.

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April 22, 2010 · 7:37 am

Stop her before she crafts again

Our beloved Erma Bombeck left us 14 years ago today and oh, how we miss her.  In honor of this talented, yet humble icon–who entertained readers with stories of everyday situations–I’d like to pause today to share a personal story of my own:

When will I learn?  I have no aptitude for crafts.  Granted, my first paying job was at a yarn store.  I was hired after, desperate for the job, I overstated my knowledge of knitting, crocheting, embroidery, cross-stitch, crewel, latch-hook and macramé.  Despite my best efforts to learn, my yarn career didn’t last long, especially with seasoned needle-workers coming in to the store seeking tutelage on elaborate projects. 

I don’t decoupage.  I can’t even frame a lousy picture.  The problem is, I have great ideas—grand visions for craft projects.  I can visualize an extraordinary outcome but lack the ability to execute ordinary steps. 

Case in point:  I had the brilliant idea to take a 25-year-old clipping from my college newspaper and create a plaque for a former classmate.  I bought the wood, the glue, the shellac and a good brush.  I picked up a fancy hanger to affix to the back so she could display this memento in her home.  I was so heavy handed with both the glue and shellac that they bled through the faded newsprint, rendering the article and its photo indiscernible.  This also rendered the shellac unable to dry.  Problem was, it was to be a birthday gift at a party taking place at Morton’s Steakhouse that night.  I set the plaque outdoors so it would dry and the toxic odor would fade.  No dice.  With no other choice, I slipped it gingerly into a gift bag and took it to Morton’s.  I set it by my feet during dinner, pretending to ignore the strong odor.  When the time came for gifts, I handed my friend the bag.  As she pulled out the wet, sticky plaque, the dining room filled with noxious fumes.  She looked at the plaque, politely trying to figure out what the heck was glued to it.  She flipped it over.  She and I both noticed that the hanger had been nailed in upside down.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Recently I went to the craft store with another vision, a personalized tote bag for my mother to carry her medical files around to her various doctors.  I purchased a pretty pink canvas bag and some iron-on lettering for adorning the bag with cute and inspiring phrases.   I was a little heavy handed with the iron.  Ironed the whole bag shut.

As if my failed projects aren’t reminder enough of my deficit, I think I saw the security guard at Michael’s tacking my picture up on their Do Not Craft list.

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April 21, 2010 · 7:41 am

Let’s talk for a moment about “momentarily”

If the pilot announces, “we will be in the air momentarily,” it means you’re going to crash.

If the waiter assures you, “your food will be here momentarily,” it means you’d better eat fast.

If you are told “a customer service representative will be with you momentarily,” it means she won’t have much time to assist you.

If the theater manager says “doors will open momentarily,” you’d better hope you’re at the front of the line.

“Momentarily” means “for a moment” or “briefly,” not “in a moment” or “soon.”  You may disagree, lots of people do—usually the ones who use it incorrectly or who quote a source that has just plain given up and added the erroneous definition.

I won’t be surprised by comments that cite sources accepting “in a moment” as an acceptable definition.  It happens all the time.  I once lost a bet with someone when I claimed “irregardless” wasn’t a word and that it couldn’t be found in the dictionary.  I placed my bet, looked it up and there it was:  “irregardless:  an incorrect use of regardless.”  As with “sherbert,” some sources have just shrugged their shoulders and looked the other way.

But I am fair and have an open mind.  If you do disagree with me, feel free to state your case.  I will listen to you momentarily.

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April 20, 2010 · 7:32 am

A game of imagination

Hey kids, it’s game time again.  Look and listen around you for misuse of the word “literally,” then take a moment to consider the image.  The following are examples my friends, family and I have heard over the years.  They have been stashed away in an imaginary treasure chest, until now.

“Our salesmen are literally walking encyclopedias.”

“I was literally glued to the television.”

“Books were literally flying off the shelves.”

“The words literally jumped off the page.”

“I was literally caught with my pants down.”

Ah, and to discover there’s a blog devoted solely to misuse of the word that, while not updated in a few months, illustrates (literally!) what such phrases would look like, including “he literally charmed the pants off of everyone,” as well as a spokesperson’s comment about Sarah Palin, “the world is literally her oyster.”  Take a look and let’s hope the blogger resumes soon with regular posts.

If you’ll excuse me, I literally have to fly.

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