I was listening to a radio talk show today.

The well-known host was discussing one of the important issues of the day.  I think it was something like “How to attract a man.”

In any case, at one point, he said, “I feel like such a idiot.”

And, today’s youth learns that speaking like that is acceptable.

Early this morning, I was listening to a radio talk show.  There was a substitute host.  His experience is listed on Wiki:  He worked for several news organizations, including CNN, Fox and MSNBC.  He also graduated from a prominent Midwest university.

And, he pronounced “et cetera” as “EK cetera.”

ACK!

This makes me wonder what is stalling our evolution as a species.

To my online dictionary references I rushed.

Of my two “reliable” references, one did not offer “EK cetera” in its main definition area as a variant.  It simply said: “et set-er-uh, se-truh.”  Hooray!  Lower on the page, however, it stated, “although (the EK pronunciation) is occasionally used by educated speakers, (that pronunciation is) usually considered ‘nonstandard’.”  Boo!

Nonstandard?  Usually?  Under what circumstances?

The other reference listed the pronunciation as: “et-ˈse-tə-rə, -ˈse-trə also it-, ÷ek-, ÷ik-.“

That’s right, it listed the incorrect pronunciation next to the correct one, linking them with an “also.”  (It did have the “divided by” sign, which as we remember, means “considered by some” to be “questionable or unacceptable.”  “Considered by some,” “questionable” and (even) “unacceptable”  are what we know as “weasel words.”  A dictionary is not the place for weasel words.  [I’m going to ignore the “it cetera” and “ik cetera” suggestions.])

This is not a case, as it is with “joolery” or “realator,” of pronouncing the letters in the wrong order — an inexcusable offense, in any case.  Instead, this pronunciation puts a sound in the word that doesn’t exist anywhere in the word (I can’t find a hard “c” or a “k”).  Moreover, you can’t attribute this problem to the speaker’s reliance on the abbreviation, “etc.,” because, even there, the “c” comes before the “t.”

Again, I have to ask, if there is to be a reference to the incorrect pronunciation, why doesn’t that reference include something like, “some people pronounce it “EK cetera.”  This is INCORRECT”?

How is it that any educated person (let alone anyone else) is still pronouncing it this way?

The talk radio station I listen to has been running a commercial for some company that buys gold.  The voice is Robin Leach, formally of “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.”

He suggests that, if we have some gold or jewlery that hasn’t been worn for some specific amount of time, we should sell it to the firm he’s shilling for.

I refuse to go to the online dictionaries for this one.  I’m scared.

Here’s another example, as in the previous post, of people actually changing the order of letters in a word.

A lot of people do this with “jewelry.”  I fear that this one has become so common we don’t even notice it any more.

What does one do when the guy trying to sell a house introduces himself as a “realator”?

OK.  As usual, I looked this up.

I went to the two online dictionaries that I rely on.

The first one provides the way it is supposed to be pronounced.  “Re’-uhl-ter.”  (I don’t intend to here address the variant pronunciation, “re’-uhl-tor.” [last syllable rhymes with “nor.”]  Ugh.)

But, when I went to the second source, I found that it provides, in addition to the correct pronunciation, the wrong one, “re’-leh-ter,” though it is preceded by the “obelus” (the mathematical “divided by” sign), which means that the pronunciation is “considered by some” to be “questionable or unacceptable.”  “By some“?  Heck, I’m looking for the word “wrong” here.  Wouldn’t it be better if it said that “this pronunciation is considered incorrect by people who know how to pronounce it?”   I have no idea what to make of this.  Perhaps this second source feels the need to include incorrect pronunciations because so many people say it this way.

I guess this lousy pronunciation comes from the idea that a realator deals in reala state?

Not long ago, I encountered a document that stated that an event would occur “bi-monthly.”

I was aware that the event was scheduled to occur twice per month.

So, to my trusty online references I scurried.

I discovered, to my great dismay, that the first two online dictionaries I consulted said the following:

“bi-monthly” –

1.  Occurring every two months.

2.  Occurring twice a month.

Yet, when I looked up “semi-monthly,” there was only one definition:  “twice per month.”

It was the same for “bi-weekly” and “semi-weekly.”

(Another disturbing aspect of this definition:  The dictionaries I consulted couldn’t decide if it was “bi-monthly” or “bimonthly,” with or without the hyphen, or “semi-weekly” or “semiweekly.”)

So, let me get this straight:  here “bi-“ means “bi-,” or, if you are in the mood, “bi-“ means “semi-.”

But, in this context, “semi-“ can only mean “semi-”?

Oh, bloody HELL.  (All of this makes me semiweak in the knees.)

What then, does one do when one is informed that they will be paid on a “bi-monthly” basis?  (One thing for sure — don’t go look it up in the dictionary.)

I’m sorry.  This cannot possibly be correct.

Is it not the case that “bi,” meaning “two,” when used as a prefix for some time period, means “every two”?  Gosh, seems simple enough to me.

I mean, has it come to this?  Enough people use a term improperly, and the term is adopted as “acceptable”?  It walks right in the side door of our language and plops down on the couch?

One grammar website goes as far as to suggest:

“To avoid confusion, you may simply substitute the specific time periods for these potentially confusing terms.
  For example, you may say, ‘I visit my grandmother every two weeks,’ not ‘I visit my grandmother bimonthly.’  If you mean every two weeks, you may also say, ‘I visit my grandmother semimonthly.’ ”

(What an outstanding example.)

So, to avoid the chance that we might be misunderstood because the required percentage of idiots have fouled this all up, a grammarian suggests that we, who know what the heck we are doing, change the way we speak, just so it’s clear to the ones who aren’t paying attention?  (Is that the way it should work?)

I don’t think anyone is going to say “I visit my grandmother semimonthly.”  Can one not say “I get paid bi-weekly,” and expect to be understood?

Here’s a rule we can live with:  Put the onus on the confused.  Just say it correctly, and let the idiots figure it out.  Let’s do something to try to pull ourselves back from the abyss.

I see lots of license plate frames out there that demonstrate the car owner’s pride in the college he attended – you know, the place where he got his higher edumacation.  These frames, almost without exception, use the word “Alumni” at the top, followed by the institution at the bottom.

Like:

ALUMNI

UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

Now, it’s pretty clear, according to several reference websites, that “alumni” is the plural of “alumnus,” which means “a graduate of, or someone who attended, a college (or perhaps a high school).”

What else is clear is that “alumnus” is the singular form of the noun – originally reserved for a male.  Singular for a female is “alumna.”  “Alumni” is the male plural.  “Alumnae” the plural for female.  (One may use “alumni” as the plural when referring to graduates/attendees of both sexes.)

So, what is someone who has the frame “Alumni . . .” trying to say?

I suppose that it’s possible that two (or more) persons connected to the vehicle in question graduated from, or attended, the college included on the frame.

It’s also conceivable that the frame means to suggest:  “Member, University of Michigan Alumni Association.”

Yet, I fear that what is intended is:  “The driver (or owner) of this car is an alumni of the University of Michigan.”

No, you’re not.

. . . a word.

You can write “a lot.”  It means the opposite of “a little.”  When you use it like that, it’s a noun.  “There are a lot of stones in that field.”

Or there is:  “a lot.”  Like, “He talks a lot.”  That’s an adverb, modifying “talks.”

Or, if what you mean is  to “give out,” “apportion,” “divide” or “distribute,” then you can use “allot.”  That’s a verb:  “I will allot them each a share of the award.”

Don’t ever write “alot.”

On January 4, 2012, after she finished near the bottom of the Iowa Caucuses, Michele Bachmann delivered her “concession speech,” during which she announced she was discontinuing her campaign for the Republican Presidential nomination.

In that speech, in Des Moines, Bachmann pronounced “poignant” as “poyg’-nant” — a hard “g.”

How is this possible?

A U.S. Government website tells us that Bachmann received her Bachelor of Arts degree from Winona State University, Winona, Minnesota, in 1978.  She got her JD (Juris Doctor degree) from Coburn School of Law, Oral Roberts University, Tulsa, Oklahoma, in 1986.  She got her L.L.M. (Masters of Law degree) from the College of William and Mary, Williamsburg, Virginia, in 1988 — this is an advanced degree in law from a prestigious institution.  She was then a lawyer in private practice — then an attorney at the United States Treasury Department.  She was a member of the Minnesota state senate.

She was elected to the United States Congress as a Representative from Minnesota in 2006, and has been re-elected twice.

All that education.  All that high-level professional experience.  And then, she was candidate for the Republican nomination for President of the United States.

How then, does she, in a speech broadcast nationally, mispronounce “poignant”?

Does she even know what the word means?  Has she never had to pronounce it before?  Never used the word before?  We don’t always expect politicians to write their own speeches.  But, shouldn’t we expect them — especially those with this much education and governmental experience — to know how to say all the words in them?

This is troubling.  I wonder about this not because she is of any particular party.  Instead, I wonder about this because of the “education” she has piled up.  The lofty heights she has reached.  I wonder about this because she has impliedly asked us all to believe that she is smart.  And maybe she is.  But, something is clearly missing.

It’s gone positively viral — the video of the dad who taught his teenage daughter a lesson by blasting holes in her laptop computer with his .45.  Evidently this guy was angered by his daughter’s Facebook post in which she complained about her oppressive domestic chores.

I saw it here yesterday.

I heard two calls to a radio show — responses to the video.

Each caller said that she agreed with what the father had done.  And, each said the dad was just “proving his point.”  Yet, it seems the only point he proved was that he was fully able to dramatically overreact, without apparent shame.  Perhaps the point he proved was that he was even more immature than his daughter.  I don’t believe this was the point he was trying to prove; or the point the callers thought he’d proven.

It is likely that what the callers actually meant was that the dad was just “making a point.”  (In this case, he was trying to teach his daughter a lesson.  To wit, “you better not try to embarrass me publicly.  [And, if you do, there will be consequences.]”)  There is a difference.

To “prove a point” means to provide evidence that supports — the arguer hopes conclusively demonstrates or establishes — the logical truth of the arguer’s position.  “This will prove my point,” one might say.  The dad might have been saying to the viewer, “I’ve always said my daughter was immature, and her Facebook post proves my point.”  Yet, the ballistic climax in the video suggests that what the dad was actually doing was trying to make a point.

To “make a point,” in this context, means to “articulate” or “assert” one’s position (sometimes, as here, dramatically).  It often comes up like this:  “Hold on a minute.  Let me make my point.”  Or, “I’m trying to make a point here.”  You might also hear, “Have I made my point?”  Or, “OK, OK.  You’ve made your point.”

Here, the dad “made the point” that “it is wrong for you to try to embarrass me publicly.”

This differs from “to make a point of,” which means to emphasize or highlight something, often as a as a reminder or promise (sometimes to oneself) — almost like a resolution.  “I am going to make a point of exercising more.”  Or, “I am going to make a point of treating my friends better from now on.”

Perhaps it’s a small point; but it merits observation.

(“We R refusing to remain silent any longer.”)

Quick — say the name of the second month of the year.  Say it out loud.

This one separates the men from the boys, eh?

I’m troubled to report that “Feb’-yoo-ar-ee” is an acceptable, although secondary, pronunciation in at least two online dictionary sources, including Merriam-Webster (an Encyclopaedia Britannica Company).

There’s an interesting discussion of the pronunciation of February here.

At that site, we learn that the “loss” of the first “r” in the pronunciation may be the result of “dissimilation” or “haplology” — the process by which one of two similar sounds in a word is dropped or changed to avoid repetition of the sound.

Clearly then, “haplology” is, these days, pronounced “hapology.”  (Sorry about that.)

Come on guys!  This problem has nothing to do with a “process,” no matter what you want to name it.  The pronunciation of “Feb’-roo-ar-ee” as “Feb’-yoo-ar-ee” is the result of laziness, stupidity and/or ignorance.  Let’s not go all high-fallutin’ here.

I’m completely dumbfounded by Merriam-Webster on this one, who tells us the “y” sound in the “yoo” syllable is not an “intrusion,” but common as to the sound of a “u” after a consonant, “as in January and annual.”

Whoa, Nelly!  Um, maybe it’s just I, but this ain’t NO explanation at all of why the “r” disappears.

During my current fit, I read somewhere else that “it takes more energy to pronounce the first ‘r’.”  Yep, I have to take a nap whenever I pronounce it correctly.

Let’s clear this up, once and for all.  There is one correct way to pronounce this month.  Everything else is, therefore, INcorrect.

To further clear it up, ask yourself this:  What do you think when you hear someone say “libary”?  “Child” or”idiot,” right?  Either that, or they’ve been spending too much time hangin’ out in a bewery.

OK.  So, I admit it.  This one’s pretty trivial.

Yet, it’s becoming epidemic.

The incorrect and lazy pronunciation of “create.”  It’s simple.  Yet, I have recently heard it pronounced, mostly on radio, over and over, “ker-ate’. ”

Listen for it.

(I’m happy to report that this pronunciation doesn’t appear in the dictionary.  But, who knows how long that will last?)

Here’s what Showtime contributed to my Facebook “News Feed” today:

“Watch a preview for the next episode of Californication.”

and:

“Watch another preview for the next episode of Californication.”

(Hank Moody would never write something like that.)

Wait a minute.  Shouldn’t it be “Watch a preview for the next episode for Californication”?  Fair’s fair, isn’t it?  A little consistency here!

OK. Seriously.  We don’t watch previews “for” things.  We watch previews “of” things.  No?

We wouldn’t say, “I’ve prepared an appraisal for your job performance.”

Or, “Don’t miss the next episode for ‘Modern Family’. ”  Or, “Please write a summary for the seminar you attended today.”

Work with me here folks.

So, the great unwashed aren’t the only ones who have problems with excessive sharing.

Today, on Michael Silverblatt’s excellent weekly show on KCRW, “Bookworm,” the writer/interviewee served up several examples of problematic usage.

(I’m paraphrasing here, from memory.  The podcast may be available here.)

He talked about how two of the characters in his new novel “actually shared many things in common.”  I wonder why they didn’t just “have” many things in common.

He also mentioned that they “both shared a love for (such and such).”  “Had,” people.  Just say “had.”

And, he described how “(something) is different than (something else).”  (More on this one in a future post.)

I will read his novel anyway.  The book sounded great, and he seemed to be a pretty intelligent guy.

That’s part of the problem.

This is how it happens:

I heard a young person use “flustrated” during a call to a radio show host this morning. Something like:  “He just won’t return my calls.  I’m so flustrated.”

I’d heard this “word” used several times.  I was always quite sure that it wasn’t a legitimate English word.  Indeed, I assumed it was used only by the uneducated.  It was, to me, clearly an inadvertent, erroneous and abusive mixture of “flustered” and “frustrated.”

So, to the internet I went.

And, what did I find?

Well, I wasn’t all that surprised to see the word listed in the Urban Dictionary.  Yet, there it was in Dictionary.com too, where it was listed only as an adjective – meaning “flustered; agitated.”

What killed me though was that Dictionary.com also listed “flusterated” as a word.  OMG!!!  (I did not have the strength to go back to these sources to see if they listed “frusterated” as a word.)

I was clearly flummoxed.

So, quickly to Merriam-Webster online, which refers to itself as “An Encyclopaedia Britannica Company.”  Surely, IT would not see “flustrated” as a legitimate part of our language.

Drat!  Not only did I find “flustrated,” but “flusterated” was listed as a “variant.”  And, hold your breath, there was “flustration” too.  Where does this all end?

At this point, I was not surprised to find “flustrated” in Wiktionary.  There, under “Etymology,” a “blend” of “flustered” and “frustrated.”

What are we to make of this?

Here’s the way I look at this:  “Flustrated” is NOT a legitimate word.  Why do I see it this way?  Simple.  Ask yourself this (here’s my test):  “Do I believe that persons who use this “word” believe it to mean anything different from “frustrated”?  Or, put it this way:  “Do persons who use the word “flustrated” ever use the word “frustrated” (to mean something different)?  Or do they simply believe that the word to use when they’re feeling frustrated is “flustrated”?

And, ask yourself this:  “Would I ever used the word “flustrated” in a writing?

(Apparently, the spell-check on my Word program has not caught up with the current vernacular, as “flustrated” comes up as not being a word.)

I say again folks:  This is how it happens.

Wow.  So many problems with “both.”

This is a pretty easy one.  Why do people have so much trouble?

Here’s a good and simple rule of thumb:  Don’t use the word “both” in the same phrase as the word “same,” “equal” or “agree.”  Same for “both” used with “each other” and “in common” and “share.”

I’ve heard this one:  “They both share a common bond.”  That’s red meat.  Even, “They share a common bond,” or “They share these traits in common,” is terrible.  Just don’t use “share” and “(in) common” in the same phrase.  Even, “They have a common bond” stinks. Try, “Kim and Sheila have a bond,” or, “The twins have several traits in common.”  How about, “We share many characteristics”?

There isn’t a problem if you say, “They both agree that capital punishment is a bad idea.”  But, why not simply say, “They agree that capital punishment is a bad idea”?  (Even better, say, “They both think (or believe) that capital punishment is wrong.”)  But, you must not say, “They both agreed with each other.”  Most of the time, “They agree” will suffice.

Don’t do it:  “They both have the same color hair.”  Or, “They both have an equal chance of being elected.” Or, “They’re both the same height.”  So glad to hear that only one of them isn’t the same height.

From the column, “Annie’s Mailbox,” in the newspaper today:  “Since you work the same hours, you should both do equal amounts of housework and share laundry and cooking duties.”  (Made me wonder, with whom should this poor couple share laundry and cooking duties?  Oh.  I guess with each other?)  Could we not have said, “Since the two of you work the same hours, you should do equal amounts of housework and share the laundry and cooking duties”?

Kathy and Marcy:  Give me a call.  I’m happy to do some freelance editing.

Who cares is this stuff is pleonasm or redundance?  It’s just wrong.  And, it’s lazy.

We have fads in fashion and, obviously in popular culture.  That’s where it should stop.  Whence fads in pronunciation?

It’s troubling to me that, after 30 years of hearing a word pronounced one way, suddenly it’s pronounced in another.  And, unfortunately, this stuff catches on.

For instance, the one I’ve noticed lately is “syndrome.”  Now, to me, this word is pronounced “sin’-drome.”  Second syllable rhymes with “Rome.”  Yet, twice yesterday, I heard people on the radio pronouncing it “sin’-drum,” or “sin’-drihm.”  Like “rim.”

I’ve also heard “program” pronounced “pro’-grihm,” or sometimes “pro’-grum.”

(I wonder if people aren’t getting the pronunciation of these words mixed up with “spectrum.”)

The height of cool.  I guess those guys know something I don’t.  I look this stuff up.  I tend to go with the first pronunciation in the dictionary.

And, what about “niche”?  Hasn’t it always rhymed with “rich”?  Nope.  A few years ago, it became “neesh.”  Yeah.  Very cool.  I guess you must think you’re French or something.

And, another favorite.  “Angst.”  If you’re cool, it’s “ongst.”  Silly, uncool me.  I still say “angst,” so the first three letters rhyme with “rang.”  Makes me all anxious just thinkin’ about it.

My father was my language hero.  He got me started on detecting bad usage.  And, he did it in a humorous way.  I think his favorite line came during the telecasts of football games.  It went something like this:  The reporter would say, “Everyone agrees Rock Hardy is the most underrated linebacker in the NFL.”  Think about it.

I don’t know if Dad knew the words “pleonasm” or “tautology,” but he sure was familiar with “redundance.”  Or, perhaps some would say “redundancy.”  I looked it up.  Let’s stick with “redundance,” eh?

Check out this link for more information on these words.

Yesterday, I heard two usage mistakes that are all too common.  A replacement talk show host on one of my favorite shows on satellite radio said, “Later on in the show, we’ll talk about that issue too as well.”

And, this morning, a television reporter, referring to the President’s visit to our city said, “Obama has always used Los Angeles as an ATM machine.  Isn’t that a bit like, “The La Brea Tar Pits”?

Instead of bothering my family with comments about the ugly deeds we do to our language, I thought I would start a blog where I can address my beefs about common usage, pronunciation, and maybe even spelling, mistakes that I hear or see in the media, in the books I read, and all around me, every day.  So, I will do my best to come to the aid of English speakers, and writers, everywhere.  I’m on a mission here folks.  Here we go . . . .