Dear Hearts and Gentle People

The Oxford English Dictionary contains full entries for 171,476 words in current use, and 47,156 that are obsolete. Pretty impressive numbers.

Words by themselves, however, are for the most part, useless. To communicate ideas and feelings words must be joined together and for us to come across as anything other than nimrods (I like that word. It means foolish or stupid and it comes from the Bible) those words need to be joined together correctly.

For that to happen one has to know at least a little of grammar, spelling, and punctuation. (I'm convinced that these three were invented by some sadistic witch of an English teacher who wanted to make life a living hell for her students.)

Failure to adhere to the rules in any or all of these subject areas can, in the blink of an eye, turn the most intellectual scholar into the town's laughingstock. It does a pretty good number on the average scholar, as well.

I love words. I think I love them because my daddy loved them. He was fascinated by language, the way we use it and abuse it. He was an avid crossword puzzle player and he was forever learning new words and springing them on my sister and me to see if we knew the definitions and the usuages. We were encouraged to use them for a few days to incorporate them into our everyday speech (we seldom did) and we had to make up sentences using the words, then diagram them.

I absolutely adored diagramming sentences. I suppose my overuse of adjectives and adverbs today stemmed from my love of drawing lines linking words together. My sentences looked like aerial street maps.

I'm a stickler for correct grammar, too, and during my elementary school years Daddy called me on every grammatical error I ever made. We called him the grammar police. If we were all together in a crowd and we heard someone speak incorrectly, a simple gesture like the raising of an eyebrow was our sign that we knew that person had made a major grammatical boo-boo. (You know, like between you and I. Argggh. I hate that!)

When I started working for the Journal Daddy continued in his role as Word Police and if I'd made a mistake in spelling or usage, his was the first call I got telling me I'd blown it. He was always right, too. I usually tried to pass the buck to some other staff member but Daddy wasn't buying it. I'd have to stop by his house, verbally correct my error, and explain why I'd made it.

We quoted Mark Twain quite a bit around our house and one of his sayings we liked was this one: "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug."

I should have remembered that a few weeks ago when I made a mistake by misusing the words hoard and horde. (A treasure greedily hoarded~A mob of people is a horde)

Luckily, after Daddy died one of his best friends took over his job as Word Police and he confronted me with my blunder over lunch yesterday. I appreciate his willingness to set me straight when I have erred. (As I said, he was my daddy's friend. All others who attempt to correct me will be held in contempt and/or publicly flogged with Webster's Unabridged Dictionary). Mr. Charles Estes, Esquire, (rank above a gentleman, and below a knight), my new Word Police, an intelligent, dry-witted man who also happens to be a word buff. His wife, Lib, is a writer and has taught English and Reading in high school, at the college level, and has authored a number of books. They know their grammar.

My elder son gives me advice and if he has time, proofreads my articles, corrects when necessary, and tells me what's funny, what isn't, and what rough drafts should be used as toilet paper.

Spelling is another area I'm particularly good at. But of course, dear hearts, if you kan't spel you're in good company. Their our milions off educkated people hoo kant spel ether.

Spelling is a definite plus if you are in the newspaper business. Many of the larger papers have proof-readers but small papers like ours rely often on Spellcheck. Bad idea.

A letter received by the Journal recently in response to the ad for part-time help, unfortunately, used Spellcheck.

"Dear Editor, I would like to apply fore a job as a writer at your paper. I halve a computer, and has spellcheck, and it wood seam that this is awl I really knead.

"I had originally intended too dew this last weak but then happened to reed my horoscope in The Chronicle, and it said: 'Put on the reigns before you lose control of everything.'

"

Of coarse, once I red this, I gnu it wood be better to weight four more auspicious thyme.

"Aye thought at first that maybe I should caul, but then I decided mite be better to right. I truly believe that I would be a grate writer- know matter watt- rein or shine. Eye wood make accuracy inn spelling the mane ingredient of my editorial rain. Just to prove my hart is in the rite place, I maid sure this letter was perfect. "I really due wont this job and no I could bee a reel asset, butt yew don't higher mi, I want bee sat."

Thanks to the Word Police, my job is see cure. I'm rare lea ever wrong butt I am shore going to work on my miss steaks any weigh. I dew so want two please. Sew, till next thyme, deer hearts, Eye love awl of ewe!