Okay – it’s official – I am officially (certifiably?) an ‘apostrophe loon.’
Maybe it’s because I sit at this computer day after day grading students’ writing assignments, that I have become obsessed with apostrophes – or maybe it’s the apostrophe errors that I am obsessed with. I mean ‘with which I have become obsessed’ – I don’t want to end a sentence with a preposition – even in my blog!
Monday morning hubby and I got up at 3:30 am (ugh!) to drive into the city airport so that he could catch a flight. Although we packed coffee with us, we both needed another shot when we arrived, so we headed upstairs for coffee and crullers. On the way, I noticed an apostrophe error on a large wall sign. If you are remotely interested – it was shown as a possessive, but needed to be a plural possessive. Anyway, I mentioned it to hubby; I can’t remember his verbal response, but I do remember the shaking head…
After he went through security and boarded the plane, I walked by the sign again, and decided to report the error so that it could be corrected. But to whom should this information be given? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a rather official-looking fellow in a uniform; he must be the one. I followed him (at a reasonable distance) until I saw him walk into the Customs Office. Apparently he wasn’t a member of the ‘apostrophe police'. I looked around for someone else.
It’s a good thing that hubby had gone --he would likely have kept walking (pretending he didn’t know me!) if he were still there. But, as you have probably determined, this topic is near and dear to my heart. Even Hubby's abandonment wouldn't deter me.
The Calgary Airport has a group of volunteers who are identified by their red vests and white Stetsons. They offer help to airport visitors and are most approachable. I took my concern to a ‘white-hatter’.
Here is our conversation:
Me: I’m just wondering who is in charge of this airport.
Nice Lady in White Hat: Well, that is the Calgary Airport Authority. I can’t give you individual names, but I could get you an address, if you like. Or perhaps there is something I could do for you?
Me: I just wanted to report an apostrophe error on a sign upstairs.
Nice Lady in White Hat: Silence
(I’m used to this reaction when I bring up this topic)
Eventually, she said: Really? Where is it?
Me: It’s in the play area.
Nice Lady in White Hat: You must be a teacher.
Me: Yes. But I’m only reporting it because I wouldn’t want children to be exposed to it.
(I can’t believe I actually said this – but I did. I told you that I’m obsessed! And you're probably thinking by now that Hubby's response would be perfectly natural. You'd run, too!)
Anyway, the conversation went on. Nice Lady told me she was a teacher, too, and had walked by the sign several times. Although she felt uneasy with it, she hadn’t yet determined the error. She assured me that she would forward my concern to the ‘powers that be’. Then she shared her own ‘pet peeve’ – redundant phrasing.
I felt so much better. Someone cared. Someone understood.
Maybe Nice Lady was pleasant with me because she was trained to deal with all kinds of concerns. But I do think this may have been her first ‘apostrophe report.’
All the way home, I wondered if I had done the right thing. It is quite picky, and really doesn’t matter to others the way it matters to me.
Colossians 3:10b (Living Bible translation) says “In this new life one’s nationality or race or education or social position is unimportant: such things mean nothing. Whether a person has Christ is what matters, and he is equally available to all.”
Wow, does that ever put it into perspective! It seems silly to get all excited about apostrophe errors when I look at the ‘big picture’.
Father, it’s not about apostrophes or any other details that tie us up in knots. It’s all about our relationship with You. Help us to keep that in mind.
Maybe it’s because I sit at this computer day after day grading students’ writing assignments, that I have become obsessed with apostrophes – or maybe it’s the apostrophe errors that I am obsessed with. I mean ‘with which I have become obsessed’ – I don’t want to end a sentence with a preposition – even in my blog!
Monday morning hubby and I got up at 3:30 am (ugh!) to drive into the city airport so that he could catch a flight. Although we packed coffee with us, we both needed another shot when we arrived, so we headed upstairs for coffee and crullers. On the way, I noticed an apostrophe error on a large wall sign. If you are remotely interested – it was shown as a possessive, but needed to be a plural possessive. Anyway, I mentioned it to hubby; I can’t remember his verbal response, but I do remember the shaking head…
After he went through security and boarded the plane, I walked by the sign again, and decided to report the error so that it could be corrected. But to whom should this information be given? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a rather official-looking fellow in a uniform; he must be the one. I followed him (at a reasonable distance) until I saw him walk into the Customs Office. Apparently he wasn’t a member of the ‘apostrophe police'. I looked around for someone else.
It’s a good thing that hubby had gone --he would likely have kept walking (pretending he didn’t know me!) if he were still there. But, as you have probably determined, this topic is near and dear to my heart. Even Hubby's abandonment wouldn't deter me.
The Calgary Airport has a group of volunteers who are identified by their red vests and white Stetsons. They offer help to airport visitors and are most approachable. I took my concern to a ‘white-hatter’.
Here is our conversation:
Me: I’m just wondering who is in charge of this airport.
Nice Lady in White Hat: Well, that is the Calgary Airport Authority. I can’t give you individual names, but I could get you an address, if you like. Or perhaps there is something I could do for you?
Me: I just wanted to report an apostrophe error on a sign upstairs.
Nice Lady in White Hat: Silence
(I’m used to this reaction when I bring up this topic)
Eventually, she said: Really? Where is it?
Me: It’s in the play area.
Nice Lady in White Hat: You must be a teacher.
Me: Yes. But I’m only reporting it because I wouldn’t want children to be exposed to it.
(I can’t believe I actually said this – but I did. I told you that I’m obsessed! And you're probably thinking by now that Hubby's response would be perfectly natural. You'd run, too!)
Anyway, the conversation went on. Nice Lady told me she was a teacher, too, and had walked by the sign several times. Although she felt uneasy with it, she hadn’t yet determined the error. She assured me that she would forward my concern to the ‘powers that be’. Then she shared her own ‘pet peeve’ – redundant phrasing.
I felt so much better. Someone cared. Someone understood.
Maybe Nice Lady was pleasant with me because she was trained to deal with all kinds of concerns. But I do think this may have been her first ‘apostrophe report.’
All the way home, I wondered if I had done the right thing. It is quite picky, and really doesn’t matter to others the way it matters to me.
Colossians 3:10b (Living Bible translation) says “In this new life one’s nationality or race or education or social position is unimportant: such things mean nothing. Whether a person has Christ is what matters, and he is equally available to all.”
Wow, does that ever put it into perspective! It seems silly to get all excited about apostrophe errors when I look at the ‘big picture’.
Father, it’s not about apostrophes or any other details that tie us up in knots. It’s all about our relationship with You. Help us to keep that in mind.
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