Back in January, Jeff was struggling with structuring a particular sentence to describe the rules of a new game he was developing, so he contacted me–the family English guru. It was a tricky question, but the issue was quickly solved by diagramming the sentence.

I don’t think English teachers teach sentence diagramming any more, and I doubt if many of them even know how to do it. It’s a useful lost skill that my elementary school teacher (another English guru) taught us. Diagramming provides a place for every grammatical category–parts of speech as well as sentence components–for any sentence. The most complicated sentence I ever diagrammed was the thesis for my master’s degree in Educational Administration. I was allowed one sentence to describe the entire thesis, but diagramming helped me make that long sentence clear.

Here’s the sentence I diagrammed for Jeff. See if you can read it as it should be written.

It says, “Each of your cities produces, in addition to its normal production, one metal.” The interrupting phrase could also be placed at the beginning or at the end of the sentence to read, “In addition to its normal production, each of your cities produces one metal,” or “Each of your cities produces one metal, in addition to its normal production.” In any of these variations, the diagram would be identical because of the modifiers to the subject, the verb, and the direct object.

Can you spell better than the Office Depot staff? If so, you’ll find the error.

Thom sent me this. All my kids know I enjoy a good grammar joke.

George Carlin had a routine he called “Syllable Inflation.” George’s example began with the first World War. At that time, “shell shock” (two syllables) was the designation for soldiers whose combat conditions stressed their nervous systems to the maximum extent, even reaching a point at which the soldiers “snapped.” As George Carlin said, it was a simple, honest, and direct term. During World War II, “shell shock” evolved to “battle fatigue”–now four syllables. “Battle fatigue,” said George, “didn’t seem to hurt as much.” Soldiers’ stress levels after the Korean conflict were referred to as “operational exhaustion”–eight syllables and now, according to George, “It sounds sterile”–not even like a human affliction. Soldiers who fought in the Vietnam War suffered from “post-traumatic stress syndrome.” That’s a decrease to seven syllables, but George pointed out that “there’s a hyphen to bury the pain under the jargon.” George closed this bit with a comment that, if the condition had remained as clear and direct as “shell shock,” many veterans might have received treatment in a far more timely manner. It’s been a long time since I heard that George Carlin routine (he died in 2008), but because of it, I’ve always been attuned to useless syllable inflation.

Like George Carlin’s syllable inflation, in Errors & Expectations (a book I read for my doctoral research), Mina Shaughnessy wrote that someone who has not learned the word “dregs” (one syllable) must say “what is left in the cup after you finish drinking” (twelve syllables, but Mina didn’t include the syllable count). When I hear an inflated word phrase like “wine bottle opener” (six syllables), like Mina, I want to teach vocabulary lessons and tell the speaker/author that we already have a word for that and it’s “corkscrew” (two syllables).

A long time ago, I started making a list of syllable-inflated words that I’ve heard and read, usually in newscasts and newspapers. (The list part won’t surprise people who know me well.) Here are some of the words from my list.

Hands-on learning (4) . . . kinesthetic learning (6)

Humidity (4) . . . environmental moisture (7)

Diarrhea (4) . . . gastrointestinal upset (8)

Coroner (3) . . . medical examiner (7)

Fire chief (2) . . . incident commander (6)

Warehouse (2) . . . fulfillment center (5); also distribution center (6)

Crop duster (3) . . . aerial applicator (7)

Heart attack (3) . . . cardiovascular event (8)

Fire (1) . . . rapid oxidation (6)

Study hall (3) . . . academic instructional period (11)

Stroke (1) . . . cerebral vascular accident (9)

Firings (2) . . . involuntary eliminations (10)

Layoff (2) . . . involuntary staffing reduction (10)

Affair (2) . . . inappropriate personal relationship (12)

Dishonorable discharge (7) . . . involuntary administrative separation proceedings (17)

The moral of the story: Keep it simple!

USA Today must hire writers who graduate at the bottom of their English classes because, whenever I read it, I find a plethora of errors. I was skimming that newspaper today and found three glaring errors that should never have made it through the first proofreading. Here’s the first of two errors in an article about yesterday’s bridge collapse near Pittsburgh. The error is highlighted.

Since “latter” is an adjective indicating something is nearer to the end than to the beginning, the word makes no sense at all in this context. A noun, such as “ladder” (a thing, an object) is needed to pull victims out of the debris. “Latter” and “ladder” were words my ESL teachers practiced with their students so the students could learn to distinguish between them. Maybe this USA Today reporter should come to one of our local ESL classes. Next, . . .

“Obtain” means to acquire; “sustain” means to undergo. Did the hospitalized people actually go to the hospital in search of injuries? You’ve got to wonder. And now last, but not least, and on a lighter note, . . .

If Minnie Mouse changed her clothes, you might expect her to “don” (put on clothing) her new outfit, but USA Today sees her change of clothing as a “dawn” (the beginning of an event or occurrence, such as sunrise).

I’m sure my childhood friends and I would have used the correct words in all three of these examples when we were in elementary school. If we hadn’t, our teachers would certainly have corrected us. We definitely wouldn’t make these mistakes as adults reporting for a national newspaper!

Sometimes I’m disappointed in the last fifty pages of a good book. After lots of twists and turns in the plot of the story, the author neatly and quickly ties everything together with a happy sappy ending. That leaves me feeling like the author was tired of writing the story and decided to wrap it up fast and be finished with it. It’s very disappointing after 300 pages of a good read.

Yesterday was a different story (pun intended). I read a paragraph that made me think the author possibly started the paragraph and then just decided to keep going and have some fun with it. This excerpt is from Judith MIchael’s book Private Affairs. For maximum enjoyment, read the last highlighted sentence first.

In Olympic news today, I read an article regarding the absence of Bob Costas as a commentator. I have a feeling the reporter couldn’t think of the word nuances.

Or did Bob really report on nuisances? “It’s too bad the runner’s shoelace came untied just as the starting gun went off.” “She was favored to win, but forgot her swim cap.” “He’d do better if he could stop hiccupping.” The reporter also mentions that Bob only “occasionally [chimed] in with clear-headed commentary.” And yet, Bob’s career as a sportscaster for NBC lasted from 1980-2019, Not bad for a muddle-headed reporter whose strength was guiding viewers through nuisances.

The photo below is a screenshot of an ad that appears when I play my free Solitaire game online. Read the text carefully. It was probably written by a right-brained (creative/artistic) person who cannot “match three.” Or spell.

I went grocery shopping yesterday and saw this display in the produce section. There were no oranges in sight.

Jeff knows I enjoy grammar jokes, so he sent this to me.

English is a living language and freely adopts and adapts words from other languages. Kathy and I (fellow English majors) were talking today about some of the colorful, folksy terms we use to describe people, specifically words that are difficult to define, but that “we just know” what they mean. Examples include klutz, ditz, putz, doppich, frumpy, and schmuck.

Today, while I was reading The Mystery of Mrs. Christie by Marie Benedict, I came across a new descriptive term: “twee.” In the book, Mrs. Christie speaks of her husband, Archie, and says, “I toned down my natural exuberance and chatter, because Archie found it cloying and more than a little twee.” I had no idea what “twee” meant, so I looked it up.

I like the word. The problem? It’s British slang, so if I use it, it’s unlikely my listener will know what I mean and I’ll have to figure out a way to describe a word that “I just know.”

I was reading an article in my news feed about Trump supporters who gathered in Washington, D.C. to show their support for President Trump after the election. The speaker might have known what she meant, but the reporter, proofreader, and editor are all apparently unfamiliar with the difference between a ringer and a wringer. Or maybe all of the aforementioned people actually meant that the President has been treated like a bell.

I had a nice email from Thom last week, but the last line gave me pause.

I hear a lot of weird English language errors and mutations when I watch and read news stories. The errors and mutations are so frequent, that I can’t keep track of them all, but a few recent bloopers were especially notable.

(1) There was a special news report on flying safely now that the COVID-19 lockdowns are loosening. To reassure passengers that airplane cabin air is recirculated, the reporter mentioned that “most airplanes that fly in the air now have HEPA* air filters.” Question: What would be the purpose of an airplane that doesn’t fly in the air?

*HEPA: High efficiency particulate air. These filters force air through a fine mesh to trap harmful particles such as pollen and pet dander. The workmen who refurbished our bathrooms in 2017 used a HEPA machine to filter out drywall dust while they were working.

(2) I don’t remember what the news report referred to, but Miss Ditz told us that it moves in an “anticlockwise” direction. Really? Is she too young to know we already have the word “counterclockwise” to describe this?

(3) Finally, with the riots following George Floyd’s death, the leader of our nation expressed his sympathies for “the people of Mindianapolis.” It’s somewhere in the Midwest–Indiana? Minnesota? Geography lessons needed?

The number of editing errors that occur in published books and elsewhere continues to amaze me. Here are some of my recent finds.

Spelling

How to change the meaning of a sentence with a misspelling.

Know your cars

Ford didn’t build the Cutlass; Oldsmobile did.

Acrobatic dog

Read carefully, then put this picture in your head. Amazing dog, or editing error? You be the judge.

April 14 was the anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. I saw a series of photos of the event and, although the pictures were interesting, I was amazed at the number of errors I saw in the captions. This was one of the most obvious ones.

The second sentence has one subject and two verb clauses. The subject of the sentence is “RMS Carpathia” and the verbs are “transported” and “were met.” The RMS Carpathia “were met”???? No, it “was met.” Aaarrrggghh! I’m hoping the error was the fault of Wikimedia and not the Library of Congress.

Below are two words and their definitions.

Which of the two words do you think the reporter should have used in the following paragraph about the current flooding in the upper Midwest?

This paragraph was in a story I was reading about a man with OCD. I guess he wanted to run away from all the stuff he’d collected.

I thought my chances of eventually dying were 100 percent, but USA Today recently reported that, if I eat more fiber and grains, I can reduce that risk by nearly 30 percent.

I assume the World Health Organization used better grammar than this reporter, but maybe not. Unless fiber has become a true miracle drug, it would be more accurate to report that a high-fiber diet can contribute to longevity by reducing the risk of premature death.

Just in case, let’s all eat more oatmeal and go for immortality.

Do I need an appointment or may I just walk in?

 Author’s note:  As an adjective describing the kind of person who seeks a professional service without an appointment, walk-in should be a single hyphenated word and it definitely does not need that apostrophe!  Doesn’t anyone proofread signage before posting it????

A computer can’t beat a live editor.  It’s a real word, so spell-check failed as an editor in the title below.

When you really need auto-correct.

This reminded me of a tractor-trailer truck I once saw.  The company name (which I forgot) filled the entire side of the trailer and included the word “Ohoi.”  Close, but not quite one of the 50 states.

Whew!  I found out today that I’m not the Lone Ranger of the Grammar Police Squad.

Secretary of State Mike Pompeo differs from his boss, President Trump, when it comes to writing.   According to CNN, while President Trump tends to forego standard guidelines for punctuation and capitalization in his tweets, Pompeo has apparently “had it up to here” with improper comma usage among State Department staff.  As a result, two emails have been circulated among State Department staff in recent months with detailed instructions pertaining to the proper use commas.

According to the emails, Pompeo prefers the Chicago Manual of Style writing guidelines.  Personally, I prefer the American Psychological Association (APA) style because I think it’s far more straightforward than Chicago style, but I guess Mike likes a challenge.  Here are two excerpts from one of the staff memos–one for including commas and one for removing them.

Attention to writing detail might come with the Secretary of State job.  CNN alliteratively noted that Colin Powell “famously focused on font and font size,” and Condoleezza Rice was picky about margins and “cramming too much into the regulated length for memos.”  Maybe I should consider becoming Secretary of State.  I already have the grammar skills.

You need a broad vocabulary and a good editor (not spell check) when you’re writing for print media.  I saw this in the newspaper after the Waffle House shooting.

Everyone knows you should never use a preposition to end a sentence with.  Where did that grammar rule come from?  (Grammar humor taking place.)

This preposition rule is based on Latin grammar and makes no sense in modern English.  Grammarly (and other high-ranking language professionals) tell us it’s now OK to use a preposition at the end of a sentence.  We no longer need that Latin rule to hide behind.  (Get it?)

For non-grammar nerds, the Oxford (serial) comma is the final comma in a list of things.  People either love or hate the Oxford comma, and style manuals are beginning to compromise by advocating use of the Oxford comma as an option when clarity is needed.  I always use it because it always provides clarity.

Without the Oxford comma:  I love my parents, Lady Gaga and Humpty Dumpty.

With the Oxford comma:  I love my parents, Lady Gaga, and Humpty Dumpty.

It’s been awhile since I found a reporting error that irritated me enough to share it, but it happened again today.  The article was published in the aftermath of the school shooting in Parkland, FL.  In the following excerpt from the news article, the author erroneously identifies two of the three generations mentioned.

Just as their grandparents feared polio . . .

Dr. Jonas Salk’s polio vaccine was developed in 1953 and was available for public use in 1955.  Dr. Albert Sabin’s oral polio vaccine was available for use in 1961.  I was vaccinated with both.  A local drugstore provided the injections, and I remember going there after church on Sundays for the series of three injections.  I also remember taking the pink oral vaccine dropped onto sugar cubes.  It was from 1916 until the 1950s that polio was an annual summertime threat in one part or another of the United States.  The worst U.S. polio epidemic occurred in 1949, claiming 2,700+ lives.  I was two years old that year, and my oldest brother was an infant.  It was my parents–“Generation Columbine’s” great-grandparents, born just before and during the 1920s–who feared polio throughout their lives, especially for their children, including Ted and me.  I don’t remember being afraid of polio, but I know that large public gatherings were avoided during the summer months and public swimming pools were often closed during the 1940s and 1950s to prevent the spread of polio.  I do remember my 4-H club collecting money from the good citizens of Hingham for the March of Dimes to support the fight to eradicate polio.

. . . and their parents feared nuclear war, . . .

Six of my eight grandchildren were born after the 1999 Columbine school shooting.  (Alex and Kyra were born in 1997 and 1998, respectively.)  Their parents are my children, born between 1972 and 1978.  The Berlin Wall fell in 1989 when Jeff was 17, and the Cold War was lukewarm long before that.  The parents of “Generation Columbine” did not live in fear of nuclear war; it was their grandparents–Ted and me–who were afraid Khrushchev would hit the nuclear button at any moment.  In the 1950s–my elementary school years–some public buildings had fallout shelter signs on them, indicating that those buildings could protect us from nuclear fallout in the event of an atomic war.  (Hah!)  I doubt if “Generation Columbine’s” parents ever saw one of these signs.

In summary, there is a “Generation Columbine” and there were generations who feared polio and the Cold War.  The author of the article named one of the three groups correctly, but he is off by a full generation for two-thirds of his main idea.  Aarrgghh!  Don’t journalists have to check their facts before publishing?  Don’t they use proofreaders?  Apparently not.

One of Ted’s and my favorite lunch restaurants often has a waiting line for seating.  As an alternative to waiting for a table to become available, the restaurant has what it calls a “community table.”  The community table seats ten and almost always has vacant chairs.  If you don’t want to wait in line, you can usually be seated immediately at the community table where you get the same food, the same service, and a chance to meet new friends.

Today, while Ted and I were waiting for a table, we heard a server offer an incoming party the opportunity to be seated at the “communion table.”  I don’t think so–unless it offers forgiveness of sins, as well as bread and wine, with lunch.

My favorite radio personality on Sirius XM radio is Phlash Phelps.  He’s been everywhere in the U.S., although he admits he’s still “missing” sixteen parishes in Louisiana.  He plans to visit them within the year.  Last year, he visited all 50 states because it was his 50th birthday year.

People call in to the show and say, “Hi, Phlash!  I’m calling from Themiddleofnowhere.”  Phlash will respond with something like, “That’s right near Youneverheardofthisplace and they’ve got a 50-foot tall sculpture of a salt shaker made out of stainless steel margarita glasses in the town square.”  Of course, this is a little bit of hyperbole but, seriously, he knows something about every two-bit town the people call from–and it’s always something interesting.  I know there’s probably a few-second delay on the phone call being broadcast to prevent trouble with the FCC, but it doesn’t sound like Phlash takes time to look up the city and its attractions before airing the conversation.  Sometimes I’ve googled the attractions he talks about because I think Ted and I might like to see them.  Every one I’ve googled has been real.

Unfortunately, Phlash messed up yesterday.  The caller was from Duluth, MN and Phlash immediately asked if the caller was planning to drive U.S. 61.  Phlash mentioned that the highway begins in Duluth and has some spectacular views of Lake Ontario.  Oops!  Duluth is on Lake Superior.  It’s the first time I’ve been tempted to call in to a radio show, but I got out of the car and had lunch with my friend instead.

Tonight’s TV news included a report about Puerto Rico in the aftermath of hurricane Maria.  Mr. Dumbclutz told us that about half the population of the island is without “pot”-able water.  Uggghhh!  Wouldn’t you think that if the word was unfamiliar to him, he might have looked it up or asked a friend how to pronounce it?  Maybe he should watch Jeopardy! more often.  The show often has a category titled “Potent Potables”–pronounced poh’-tent poh’-tah-bulls, not paht-ent paht’-ah-bulls.