How I Roll

Because I make my living as a proofreader/copyeditor, people often jokily (and with a certain ingratiating submissiveness) ask me if I am always going to be correcting their grammar. My answer is "No," for two reasons. 1) It's very rude to correct people's speech or writing unless they ask you to. 2) I don't work for free.

But, yes, I do always notice, even if I don't always say anything. A sudden, brief rigidness in my posture or a fixed quality to my gaze is a dead giveaway.

A lot of you notice as well, and if you'll send me your howlers, gaffes, and malapropisms I will get outraged and then write a correction in a way that is both funny and shaming, and the social contract will be fulfilled.

I have a job downtown again, so the opportunities for calling out business-ese will be virtually limitless. I'd love to reach out to you about that.

Bonus Post

Spotted on the side of a Metro Transit bus in Uptown: An image of an attractive but constipated-looking woman accompanied by the words "See something suspicious commuting or grabbing a bite to eat? If so, call local authorities."

If I were to see an inanimate object doing any of those things I would be very suspicious indeed, but I would also feel that things had gotten beyond the ken of the local authorities and head for the hills.

When I had an office job downtown I saw a lot of people with some of the qualities of inanimate objects both commuting and grabbing a bite to eat, but I did not contact local authorities.

Note to Metro Transit: try "Have you seen something suspicious while commuting or grabbing a bite to eat?"

"Grizzly" vs. "grisly": a whole 'nother animal

I copyedit a lot of allegedly scary books and read a lot of true crime so this one comes up a lot. People are writing the word “grizzly” to describe something that is gruesome or terrifyingly gross. The word for that is “grisly,” which means “1) inspiring horror or intense fear 2) inspiring disgust or distaste.”

A “grizzly” is a type of fucking enormous brown bear that you want to stay the fuck away from, except when it’s Big Ben from the 1970s get-away-from-it-all TV show The Life and Times of Grizzly Adams, and then you can keep him as a pet. You could also keep a Native American man as a pet on that show. How this would go over in real life I can easily imagine.

In real life this mutha would be getting filleted like a wild-caught salmon.

So if you are describing a crime scene or a haunted house as a grizzly one, make sure that it is a crime scene or haunted house that predominantly features a roaring, skull-crushing brown bear about eight feet tall.

I had a boyfriend who persistently referred to a friend of his as “grizzled.” From this I concluded that the friend was a slightly grumpy older man or a man with graying hair. When I asked my boyfriend about it he said that no, it was a younger man. When I asked him what he thought “grizzled” meant he sheepishly confessed that he didn’t know. He had similar problems with the word “glib,” which he used in a manner to describe any number of ways of speaking except for “nonchalant, offhand, or superficial.” When questioned he timidly suggested that it meant “negative.” I will not say this is why I broke up with him, but it certainly didn’t help.

What you don't know makes you look dumb

I've been asked to write a new blog post, so I'll comment on something that just came to my attention--flagrant and widespread use of the phrase "in lieu of." A friend corrected a telemarketer's use of the phrase, and in turn a friend of hers unearthed a lively Yahoo! Answers debate on the meaning of it, in which nearly everyone was enthusiastically wrong. The person who first asked about the meaning of the phrase went to great lengths to inform everyone that she was a well-educated graduate from NYU, where apparently they encourage the use of Yahoo! Answers over the creaking apparatus of reference books.

"Lieu" is the French word for "place." "In lieu of" means "in place of," or "instead of." The most common (correct) usage of this phrase is in obituary notices, where people who would send flowers are asked to instead donate to a pet cause or charity of the deceased. "In lieu of flowers, please make a donation to the Animal Humane Society."

Somehow--in a development no doubt involving my favorite bugbears: middle management, political representatives of largely suburban districts, and high school principals--people have been led to believe that "in lieu of" means the same thing as "in light of," or "because of," as in "In lieu of recent events, we will be closing all the schools in Bloomington for the next two days." I came across a confident online assertion that whatever "lieu" might mean in French, "in our lexicon" it means "because of."

Wrong and wrong. For one thing a "lexicon" is a the vocabulary of a language, more specifically an alphabetical list of words, aka the dictionary. You'll never find a dictionary stating that "in lieu of" means "because of." Furthermore getting something wrong again and again, however persistently, will never make a wrong usage right, just more common. When using a foreign phrase, or even one with just one foreign word in it, it's best to look it up. Or, in lieu of using foreign phrases you don't know, use correct English ones you do know.

And to my friend--good on you for correcting the telemarketer, who was very likely reading from a script written by her better-paid, dumbass manager.

Next time: "Grizzly vs. Grisly: A Whole 'Nother Animal."

Words that are not the same, September 27

This is a big one, because I can see that people who used to know the difference between these two words have lost their grasp on it.

"Lose" and "loose."

To "lose" something is to come to be without it, to be deprived of it, or to fail to keep it; as in losing a job, losing a spouse, losing a wallet.

In the adjective form "loose" means unconfined or unattached, as in a loose dog, or a loose end. It's also the opposite of tight. My pants are loose, or at any rate they were earlier this summer. In the verb form "to loose" means to free from restraint, although it's a word not much used now. Mr. Burns from The Simpsons might order Wayland Smithers to "loose the hounds," instead of "release the hounds," although it's nowhere near as funny. (BTW, Google "Wayland Smith." You'll be amused.)

So, unless you mean that you are releasing your mind from restraint, you say "I am losing my mind," not "I am loosing my mind."

An easy way to remember it might be to keep in mind that you pronounce the two words differently when you speak them. "If I lose weight my clothes will be loose."

This lost/loose confusion has a meme-like quality, as I first saw it cropping up in the e-mails of otherwise well-informed folks about ten years ago, and now it's all over the damn internet.

It kinda makes me lose it.

Lemme Axe You Sumtin'.

A few years ago The Onion printed one of their sidebar headlines reading "Black community terrorized by 'ask' murderer." Yeah, it was funny, and in line with The Onion's "equal opportunity offensiveness" policies (although having read Animal Farm and observed American popular culture for 40 years I always suspect that some people are more equal than others), but the truth is, saying "axe" for "ask" is not a black thing, it's a regional thing. From Connecticut down to Baltimore, you will find people of every hue axing for directions, axing how their friends are doing, and concluding their remarks with "I axe you?" Some people on the Northeast Corridor ask, but most of them axe. I ask, but my yoga teacher, who is from North Jersey, is an unrepentant axer. The only group you will find who consistently ask and don't axe are first generation immigrants. They ask, and sometimes loftily "ahsk."

Is axing wrong? Technically yes. If you look up "axe" in the dictionary you will find "a cutting tool that consists of a heavy edged head fixed to a handle witht the edge parallel and that is used esp. for felling trees and chopping and splitting wood," not "to call on for an answer." But in another way it is no more than the invitation "Do you want to come with?" in Minnesota or ordering a "root beer coke" in Tennessee. To me regionalisms have their own immunity, and while the other language folks will sniff, I'm always willing to let a regionalism slide. It's not quite like slang, which has its own logic, beauties and even rules of usage, but in a country as big as the US, local idiosyncracies are unavoidable. And why avoid them? While I bristle at words used incorrectly and out of their context, I find regionalisms rather charming. And when my Jersey yoga teacher tells me that she's gonna axe me to lift up my butt a little in my down dog, I find it a comforting reminder of home.

Lemme Axe You Sumtin'.