William Safire, I’m not, but I am the daughter of a really good English teacher. My mother used to recline on her desk to teach her students the difference between “lie” and “lay.” I was mortified when one of her students (a friend of mine) told me about my mother’s display during English class and confronted Mama when I got home. “Well,” she casually explained, “nothing I was telling them could make them understand. I had to take drastic action and figured a visual aid might help.”
“Oh, thanks, Mama. You’ve HUMILIATED me,” I politely commented, as only a 16-year-old can.
She was right. On the next test, 100% of her students knew the difference. From then on, it was part of her arsenal of teaching ammo, and her reputation grew to legendary proportion.
My mother simply loved language and everything about it. She loved poetry, word play, puns, alliteration, participles (past and otherwise). Heck, she even loved punctuation, a passion not passed my way.
As I read newspapers, emails, billboards and listen to television and radio commentators, I know my mother is still with me. I can almost hear her sigh as some national television commentator misuses… oh, let’s say… “subsequent.”
The interview took place subsequent to the arraignment.
There is no such thing as “subsequent to.” Look it up. The word means following in order or time. Please, people!
And she was a stickler for proper use of “between” and “among.”
The dish was shared between Madeline, Fred and Lacy.
Arghh…
And, the ever popular, “wah-LA.” (Let me hasten to add, Mama also spoke French.)
He put the woman in a brightly colored box, beat on it with a stick, cut her in half, and… WAH-LA… her feet were still moving.
When, pray tell, did the marvelous Voilà turn into WAH-LA? (Does anyone even know how to spell this abomination?)
Do the people wildly exclaiming “WAH-LA!” even give even a fleeting thought to what it might mean? Do you spoze they think it has something to do with the Pacific Northwest? Some sort of Washington state exclamation. Half of Walla Walla?
Honestly, if you’re going to excitedly exclaim, at least be sure of the meaning of your exclamation. You’re on safer (though no more correct) ground if you’re only going to quietly comment or genteelly pronounce.
If Mama Chris Jones was still with us, she’d be picking up the phone and calling people.
I think I’ll just Tweezer and MyFace.