Category Archives: All Things Wordish

grammar, punctuation, usage, spelling, speech

One less product to buy

Do we really need to go over this?

I have received suggestions from readers that I review the rule for “fewer” versus “less.”  I confess, I dismissed these because the rule is clear and I assumed most people knew the difference.  I am sorry to say I was wrong.

Last week I said I wouldn’t be taking Boniva or buying Honey Bunches of Oats for the same reason:  my boycott of products whose commercials contain grammatical errors.  Now I must add to the list MGD 64, the dieters’ version of Miller Genuine Draft.  According to its current television commercial, MGD 64 has “less calories” than other reduced-calorie beers.

I am too tired to rant again so soon over the ad industry’s growing disregard for correct language.  Instead, might I just ask, why not say “fewer calories?”   I am tempted to believe it is less an oversight than it is a presumption that “fewer” flies over the heads of Miller’s target demographic.  Please tell me I’m wrong.

Is it possible that advertising companies intentionally use poor grammar to appeal to a specific class of consumers?  The ad gurus at Grey Poupon hit their high-brow target with their famous commercial years ago.  Pardon me, but it seems Miller is deliberately going for a less sophisticated crowd with its overt illiteracy.

Everyone knows “less” refers to an amount of something, as in less beer.  “Fewer” refers to a number of something, as in “fewer calories.” 

Less snow, fewer snowflakes.  Less hair, fewer strands.  Yes, got it.

Now can we move on to something a little less obvious?

Postscript:  Speaking of intentional poor grammar, am I the only one wondering why yesterday South Carolina Senator Lindsey Graham phrased his question to Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan, “Where were you at on Christmas Day?”  He knows better.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Food, Marketing/Advertising/PR

Sunday schooling

My thanks go to Merl Reagle, editor of the crossword puzzle in The Washington Post’s Sunday magazine, who practically wrote this blog post for me.

I had intended to write a follow-up to pieces I posted earlier on mispronunciations, misspellings and malapropisms. Then Sunday’s puzzle beat me to it, using something Reagle called “eggcorns.” 

Spoiler alert:  If you haven’t done the Sunday puzzle and intend to, you will want to skip over this for now.

Eggcorns, Reagle explains, are things people say and write that are technically incorrect but have a logic of their own.  For example, the business located to the right of yours is “next store.”  Get it? 

In the puzzle, the clues are what make the incorrect phrases or spellings correct.  I will leave it to you to read those in the crossword itself.  Here I will list a few of the answers as examples of commonly misspelled or mis-uttered phrases.  We should take note, as I suspect we’ve all made at least one of these errors in our lifetimes.  Recognize any?

  1. wet one’s appetite
  2. butt naked
  3. hone in on
  4. sacreligious
  5. bellweather
  6. laxadaisical
  7. expatriot
  8. Here, here
  9. unchartered waters
  10. a tough road to hoe

If any of these looks correct to you, see me after class and I will tell you what it is supposed to be.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Reading

Hair zombie

This week I made the unfortunate discovery that I left both my hair dryer and my straightening iron at our beach rental.  Chances are slim that I’ll ever see them again so, to get this mop of mine under control, I went out and replaced them.

I went to a good salon and invested in the deluxe Chi Ceramic Hair Styling Iron (because I might want to curl my hair after I straighten it).

I brought it home, pulled it out of the box and consulted the instruction booklet. 

Under Safety Instructions it said, “Never use while sleeping.”

I am aware that some people walk and talk in their sleep, but style their hair? 

Just because it was right there, I pulled out the booklet for the blow dryer, manufactured by a different company.  “Never use while sleeping.”

Now there are lots of women who wish we could wake up in the morning fully coiffed for the day, but I doubt we’ve ever considered doing our hair before we wake up.

I couldn’t resist going through the drawer in our house where we keep all our appliance paperwork, to see what else jumped out.  “Do not allow children to play in dishwasher.”  Darn, now I’ll have to buy a swing set.

No doubt the Internet is brimming with examples of silly safety warnings.  Do you have any of your own?

Reminder:  Word Nymph takes Sundays off.  Wonder if she’ll wake up for church tomorrow with a beautifully styled do.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Beauty and Fashion, Family and Friends, Foibles and Faux Pas

Behind the curve

Where have I been, under a rock perhaps, that I have never heard of “lingua franca?” 

Do you ever notice a word or phrase for the first time and then, all of a sudden, you read it everywhere? 

Recently, I was rushing to finish my June issue of Vanity Fair, as July had just arrived, and I ran across this phrase, lingua franca.  Because I was on a plane, I was unable to look it up.  My guess at a literal translation was “French tongue,” but that didn’t seem to make sense.

In an article called Playing for the World, preceding the start of the World Cup, A. A. Gill wrote, “It isn’t music or movies or pizza that is the lingua franca of the globe. It’s the Beautiful Game.”  Then, I confess, I lingered unduly on the 12-page photo spread of the World Cup athletes.  Annie Leibovitz, I want your job, if just for one day.  But I digress.

I later noticed, in the same issue of the magazine, in different places and in different contexts, lingua franca appeared twice more.

Yesterday I remembered to look it up.  An hour’s worth of cursory research confounded me further. 

You may already know this, but lingua franca is the term for a hybrid language, like pidgin, that is spoken by persons not sharing a common native language, to communicate with one another.  There seem to be dozens of different forms spoken in Europe, the Middle East and South America.

Okay, so I got that.  But now all of a sudden it’s a simile.  It’s a metaphor.  And it’s everywhere.

Again, my research was cursory, so my findings may not be exact, and the sources are obscure.  Either way, here are some examples I dug up.

“The Dow is certainly Wall Street’s lingua franca.”

“T-shirts are the lingua franca of Silicon Valley.”

“Movies are the lingua franca of the twentieth century.”

Sarcasm is the lingua franca of the Internets [sic].”

More literally, in some faiths, a language called Adamic “is the lingua franca of Heaven.”

I read further that Lingua Franca is the name of a literary magazine that closed down in 2001, one I think I would have liked.  It’s also the name of a band out of Flint, Michigan; the name of a CD by an Australian group called The World According to James; and the names of lyrical movements in several countries. 

I hate it when something is cliché before I ever become aware of it.  Reminds me of the “What’s In and What’s Out” list that comes out every January 1st.  Far too often, it’s already Out before I knew it was In.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Quotes, Reading, Sports and Recreation, Technology and Social Media, Travel

Slipping away

(s-bt-kl)

Even Word Nymphs need an extended rest now and then.

This one is running off to a secluded cottage for seven days without Internet, while her permanent home is guarded by two Sumo wrestlers, an Army Ranger and Mr T.

In recent times, “sabbatical” has come to mean any extended absence in the career of an individual in order to achieve something–in this case, enjoying a little sun without burning, perfecting her Skee-Ball game, beating her husband at 500 Rummy, filling up on seafood, catching up on sleep and reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

Thanks to readers who sent in their favorite summer songs, her iPod is locked and loaded for a week of sunset-gazing on an amazing ocean-front deck.

While away, the Word Nymph will be dreaming up all kinds of new wordish topics for her online forum.  She’ll also be leaving behind for her readers a favorite quote each day.  So, if you don’t subscribe, check in periodically and enjoy the words of some of her favorite writers.

If you’d like to suggest topics for future discussion, by all means, send them as Comments.

Thanks for reading.  See you on June 21st.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Food, Reading, Travel

Snap crackle pop

They’re everywhere.   In your bowl of Rice Krispies.  In comic strips.  On Old McDonald’s farm.

What are they?

Onomatopoeias (and there is some question about whether that is its correct plural form) are words that sound like their meanings.  Oink, chirp, meow.  Wham, pow, boom.  Jingle, zip, splash.  Crunch, slurp, hiccup.

Originating from a Greek word meaning “word-making,” onomatopoeias are great tools for adding texture to writing or speech.  And kids love ’em.   As school lets out for the year, coming up with clever onomatopeias could be a fun summer game for your youngsters at home.

Wordies of all ages should enjoy these lyrics by Todd Rundgren.  John Prine recorded an otomatopoeia song as well but I don’t care much for it.

Onomatopoeia by Todd Rundgren

Onomatopoeia every time I see ya
My senses tell me hubba
And I just can’t disagree
I get a feeling in my heart that I can’t describe
It’s sort of lub, dub, lub, dub
A sound in my head that I can’t describe
It’s sort of zoom, zip, hiccup, drip
Ding, dong, crunch, crack, bark, meow, whinnie, quack

Onomatopoeia in proximity ya
Rearrange my brain in a strange cacophony
I get a feeling somewhere that I can’t describe
It’s sort of uh, uh, uh, uh
A sound in my head that I can’t describe
It’s sort of whack, whir, wheeze, whine
Sputter, splat, squirt, scrape
Clink, clank, clunk, clatter
Crash, bang, beep, buzz
Ring, rip, roar, retch
Twang, toot, tinkle, thud
Pop, plop, plunk, pow
Snort, snuk, sniff, smack
Screech, splash, squish, squeak
Jingle, rattle, squeal, boing
Honk, hoot, hack, belch…

Do you have a favorite?

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Music

Bee proud

You can have your baseball.   You can have your American Idol.  I’ll take a good spelling competition any day.

The National Spelling Bee.  That’s entertainment.  And it takes place right here in town.

Bee Week is my World Series.  And Bee 2010 did not disappoint.  At least that’s what I read.  Instead of watching the final round Friday night I was at, ahem, a baseball game.

How can you not love a spelling bee?  There are no drunk spectators, it’s a civilized show of preparation and skill and you just want to hug the contestants.  The person giving the words is called the pronouncer, reason enough to love this sport.  And if they broadcast it on ESPN, it’s a sport, no?

This year’s Scripps National Spelling Bee boasted a record 273 spellers ranging in age from 8 to 15 years.

This year’s winner was 14-year-old Anamika Veeramani, from Ohio, who correctly spelled “stromuhr” in the final round.  Just to get to the final, she and other youngsters had to correctly spell words like confiserie, ochidore and leishmanic—and do so with poise and composure under the pressure of live television, bright lights and the presence of fierce competition for a national prize.

These kids today.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Movies, Television and Radio, News, Sports and Recreation

Root root root

You might have noticed one topic that hasn’t been written about in this place:  sports.

That’s because I am uncomfortable writing about things I don’t know anything about.  When the topic comes up in conversation, I can usually get by with an observational nod or hmmm, then I excuse myself to the ladies room.  My lack of knowledge makes me feel like an outsider and my fear of embarrassment makes me want to run for my life before being asked my opinion on something.

Last night I went to a Washington Nationals game.

My husband rushed to buy tickets for this particular game on a hot rumor that some person named Strasburg was going to be pitching and that the game would sell out within hours.  My husband’s instinct was right.  The game sold out before the end of the day we ordered our tickets.

I don’t know a Strasburg from a Stradivarius but I did know that this rumor was akin to hearing that a rock and roll concert coming to town would feature a surprise appearance by Elvis (I was going to say John Lennon but John Lennon is dead).

Anyway, this Strasburg person didn’t pitch before the crowd of nearly 34,000 fans in the Nats’ shiny new stadium last night.  Rumor has it that he’ll be there later this week.

That’s OK.  I still got what I go to baseball games for—a hot dog and ice cream. 

I do enjoy listening to people talk about baseball.  I am impressed when they can throw around stats that they carry around in their heads and I confess I find it exciting to hear about a diving catch, a clutch hit or a golden sombrero.  What, that’s not a tequila drink?

The problem is, with the exception of the hot dog and ice cream, I find watching baseball exceptionally boring.  The skill and nuance are lost on me.  I don’t see the diving catch even when it happens right in front of me, which, according to this morning’s paper, it did.

Another thing.  I don’t know if it’s Washington fans in general or just a coincidence that I’ve seen this at Nationals and Redskins games alike, but I always seem to be seated among loud, obnoxious twenty-something males, full of Budweiser, who yell insults at the opposing team.  Again, it might just be coincidence.  It’s just that I haven’t seen it in the baseball stadium in the next city over.

So let’s bring out Strasburg already and Go Nats.

Word Nymph returns Monday.  Tomorrow she’ll still be taking flak from her family for this piece.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Family and Friends, Food, Sports and Recreation

Not very nice

Because it has been years since I have had any formal study, I’ve been treating myself to some self guided continuing education, including brushing up on literary terms, figures of speech and such.  I came across one yesterday that I am not sure I ever learned in the first place.

Or perhaps I blocked it from my memory. 

I am talking about the bdelygmia.

Ah, yes, you say.  The old bdelygmia.  Actually, if you watch cable news with any regularity, you could hear a commentator utter one in some form at least once a night, especially in the current political climate.

A bdelygmia (the b is silent) is a litany of abuse.  It’s been described as the perfect rant, a series of explicit insults, if you will. 

The 19th century English author and poet Edward Lear was said to have written that a “vile beastly rottenheaded foolbegotten brazenthroated pernicious piggish screaming, tearing, roaring, perplexing, splitmecrackle crashmecriggle insane ass of a woman is practicing howling below-stairs with a brute of a singingmaster so horribly, that my head is nearly off.”

As my tastes are a bit more pedestrian, I’d say my favorite bdelygmia comes from the movie Christmas Vacation, in which Clark Griswold, after being denied the Christmas bonus he was counting on, says this about his boss:  

“I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, ****less, hopeless, heartless, fat-***, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey **** he is. Hallelujah. Holy sh**.  Where’s the Tylenol?”

Perhaps you have one of your own, festering in your head or sitting in your Drafts folder, awaiting a cooling off period.  Feel free to share; just don’t aim it at anyone.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Movies, Television and Radio