When our resident grammar expert sent me this link it made me laugh out loud. Weird Al Yankovic has a song called Word Crimes - take a look. Of course there are those who disagree. It's great to see Al worrying at the grammar bone so to speak.
My butcher loves to put signs up all over his shop touting his meat. He can't spell or punctuate which used to be guaranteed to make me reach for a texta. He tries to tell me he does this deliberately just to get his customers talking. I doubt it. He has clearly never come across these and neither had I until recently. Personally I intend to celebrate National Punctuation Day even if it is an American affectation. I shall make a waffle, top it with bacon and maple syrup and think pure punctuation thoughts.
My son's best friend has a misspelled tattoo that made me laugh out loud when I saw it. There are some absolute masterpieces here.
What is it about grammar and spelling that makes some of us so sensitive? Does it really matter any more? We have authors who can't spell – we do it for them. A little while ago the Oxford comma was pronounced dead but then like Lazarus it rose again. (I was afraid to use a comma anywhere in that sentence. The nuns used to red circle my commas without explanation and to this day I feel unsure and unhappy when I meet one. A comma, and a nun for that matter.) I remember when I got my first manuscript back from the editor and saw that I had spelled the simplest of words incorrectly half a dozen times. Not even a possible typo just a straight out mistake. I cringed. I realised I'd probably spelled that particular word wrongly all my life.
My children were hounded relentlessly about their spoken and written language as they grew up. Thinking back it is clear that this was what my own mother did and so did those nuns so it was little wonder I followed suit. But now a certain ennui is setting in. Those same kids send me texts and Facebook posts littered with misspelled words or indecipherable contractions that require me to ask for explanations. I still can't wrap my head around the whole concept of a meme though I do like this picture which I am reliably told is itself a meme. I have no clue why it's a meme however and welcome any explanation.
My clever clogs children like to point out things are different now. They suggest I fit this category. Possibly. But trust me; I am not rotfl.
And I really, really, hope, I haven't wrote nothing wrong in this blog ...