The Punctuation Ogre and the Letter Lapper

Remember Thermostat Jeannie, the one who moves my home thermostat up to Hubby’s comfort level? Well, her two best friends, Punctuation Ogre and Letter Lapper, live inside the grammar and spell check feature in my Word program.

When I write anything, be it a blog or article, as soon as I hit “Save,” the two of them get to work. Punctuation Ogre moves commas, or even worse, inserts them in places they don’t belong. I know the proper use of commas—I taught that skill for 35 years. Then she turns quotation marks, especially the end quotes, in the wrong direction. Her other tricks are switching commas and periods, sprinkling quotation marks around words, and misuse of the parenthesis.

Letter Lapper devours letters from words, leaving them grossly misspelled. Sometimes she only nibbles part of a letter, thus changing an “e” to a “c” or an “m” to and “n.” The other day, I typed the word FUNdraiser on a flyer, a word one of the charity organizations in my Seniorville uses. The next day, I received an email saying I omitted the “d.” I know the letter was there when I hit “Save,” but alas, it wasn’t when my friend received the flyer to proof read.

Errors in print mortify me. One reader asked if I ever heard of the grammar and spell check feature. He didn’t believe me when I told him about Punctuation Ogre and Letter Lapper.

I recently received the layout of the manuscript for my book via email. I opened it up to see and voila—each page contained proof Punctuation Ogre and Letter Lapper performed their destruction once again. Since I know the errors were not there when I hit “Send,” the damage had to be done in cyberspace while the book made its way to the publisher. With tears in my eyes, I realized I could no longer fight this war by myself. I sent out a call for the Punctuation and Spelling Warriors.

The Four Star General of Punctuation and Sensible Sounds responded—perhaps because his wife loves my blog and knows how the Ogre and Lapper have frustrated me since I’ve started to write. He carefully fixed the wounds in my manuscript, making him eligible for the Proof Reader’s Medal of Honor. Now if only he would develop a foolproof grammar and spell check program to be installed in all computers, he could be richer than Mark Zuckerberg, My number one fan deserves such a reward!

Irregardless - Ouch!

Could my ears have deceived me or did I actually hear a popular talk show host on a cable news network use the word “irregardless?” I’m tempted to send off an email and correct this man who interviews presidential candidates and an infinite number of dignitaries – tempted, but not sure I want to do so. I was stunned he obviously didn’t know there is no such word as “irregardless.” The pedestal I held him on tilted a little when I heard him utter the word. However, I would like to prevent him from further mortification since I still like him – regardless of his error.

I learned years ago that not all adults appreciate when you correct their grammar. When a young neighbor, who was once a friend, told me, “Me and my sister love all the flowers in front of your house,” I made the mistake of correcting her grammar. She turned red, snapped that she was no longer in school, and insisted she didn’t have to impress anyone.

My mother ranked proper speech next to cleanliness when it came to making first impressions. Mom was forever correcting her own three children and continued the practice with her eight grandkids. Once she corrected a letter one granddaughter sent from camp and then sent it back to her. Like my neighbor, my niece was anything but grateful. “You’re not my teacher, you’re my Nana,” she told her. “You’re supposed to love everything I do.”

Guilt worked. My mother stopped correcting letters from her grandkids, but it didn’t stop her if they spoke to her incorrectly. “Smart people should know the difference between ‘can’ and ‘may’” she would tell them.

When the principal of my son’s high school spoke during open house for the freshmen’s parents, he used the word “irregardless.” Half the people in the room cringed. My husband warned me not to correct the principal when the evening was over. “You can tell him after our son graduates, but not before.”

I listened to my husband, but it was frustrating – ‘irregardless” was one of the man’s pet words. According to one of my friends on his faculty, he was finally corrected by one of the English teachers – at her retirement party.

So, now to my dilemma: should I email the blond-haired, rapid-speaking talk show host or continue the policy I have followed ever since I offended my neighbor? On the other hand, I could write him and tell him to read my blog!