TBS Grammar Fail

Dresses like a lawyer, acts like a bartender, talks like a trucker.

During one of the numerous commercial breaks from the Olympics last night, I caught the end of one of TBS's new comedy series, Sullivan and Son.  In a nutshell, a fancy Manhattan lawyer returns home to run the family business with his bartender father.

In the closing sequence, Fancy Lawyer laments to Bartender Father, "Maybe I should have went to bartending school."

He should have went? 

TBS writers, you should have gone to English class.

Farewell, Wild Thing

Yesterday was rough.  August was wearing his wolf suit, roaring his terrible roar and showing his terrible claws.

I secretly wished I could send my Wild Thing to bed without eating.

But at the end of the day, we curled up together to honor a writer gone too soon.  And while we were reading, all around us a forest grew.  August sighed as we watched the ceiling hang with vines, as we sailed off through night and day and came to the place where the wild things are.

Suddenly, it was as if someone else was in the room, yelling, "Be still!"  My king of all wild things relaxed and squealed as the wild rumpus began.  And soon he was back in his boat, sailing again through night and day, waving good-bye and traveling back to his very own room.

As Auggie sailed to sleep in my arms, we whispered together, "Oh please don't go!  I'll eat you up - I love you so."

"You're a Word-maker..."

Today in class, my sophomores found passages from the novel we're reading, then wrote words to describe the tone of each passage.  This is the week before Spring Break, so some students got a little punchy and began making up words.

Then their teacher got a little punchy.

"You're such a word-maker," I said.  Then I thought about it.  The tune to "Heartbreaker" by Pat Benatar started running through my head.  Soon I was singing:

You're a...
Word-maker
Thesaurus-writer
Synonyms, don't you mess around with me

You're the right kind of sentence
To release my inner imagery

You're a...
Word-maker
Thesaurus-writer
Synonyms, don't you mess around with me

The next thing I knew, I was singing it all afternoon.  It really is catchy.

My delightful 7th period (which I can now share is my favorite--thank you, blog lock-down) added this addendum at the end of the day: "And then we gonna go all antonym, yo!"  Yes, the shift from 80's pop icon to gansta rap is a bit jarring, but they did include a hand signal: picture a "hang loose" gesture upside down, kind of like the letter A--for antonym.  Brilliant.

And just in case anyone isn't familiar with "Heartbreaker," (and so you can have "Word-maker" in your heads all day, too) this is my gift to you.  Go ahead...sing along.

If "your" not good with grammar...

Don't make shirts with words on them:

(Thanks for the heads-up on this one, Garrett.)

Grammar Violations

I've had several requests to share with readers the weekly grammar violations I teach my students.  No, really.  People have asked.  Real people!  Most of the violations we cover in the first couple months of the school year are my biggest pet peeves.  They're also some of the ones I already wrote about in a guest post at The Marketing Mama.

But there are others.  Oh, there are so many others.

I'm going to begin by tackling the difference between then and than.  Then is used when discussing sequence, and than is used when discussing preference.  For example:

I came, I saw, then I conquered.

I would rather study grammar than anything else.

Nuggets of Matt Brilliance

As I was mentally preparing myself for the torture that is Back-to-School night, Matt sent me this email (forgive the vulgarity, but sometimes it just works too well):

"Capitalization Matters: It's the difference between helping your Uncle Jack off a horse and helping your uncle jack off a horse."

"Did I Miss Anything?"

In Maryland, another new school year began this week.  Some poor souls even had to begin last week.  We've only been back two days, and yet the same old questions have resumed:

"Is this for a grade?"

"Will this be on a test?"

"Are you collecting this?"

And my personal favorite...

"Did I miss anything yesterday?"

Yes, I did have students absent yesterday, the first day of school.  Someone needs to talk with them about the fine art of a first impression.

In honor of those teachers who have already answered that last question (or ever have or ever will), I'm sharing the poem that my students will analyze in class tomorrow.  Hopefully, the message will stick.

"Did I Miss Anything?" by Tom Wayman

Nothing. When we realized you weren’t here
we sat with our hands folded on our desks
in silence, for the full two hours.

Everything.  I gave an exam worth
40 percent of the grade for this term
and assigned some reading due today
on which I’m about to hand out a quiz
worth 50 percent.

Nothing. None of the content of this course
has value or meaning.
Take as many days off as you like:
any activities we undertake as a class
I assure you will not matter either to you or me
and are without purpose.

Everything. A few minutes after we began last time
a shaft of light suddenly descended and an angel
or other heavenly being appeared
and revealed to us what each woman or man must do
to attain divine wisdom in this life and
the hereafter.
This is the last time the class will meet
before we disperse to bring the good news to all people
on Earth.

Nothing. When you are not present,
how could something significant occur?

Everything. Contained in this classroom
is a microcosm of human experience,
assembled for you to query and examine and ponder.
This is not the only place such an opportunity has been
gathered,

but it was one place,

and you weren’t here.

Education Irony

This weekend, I ordered the textbook for the class I'm taking this fall.  The book is on its 9th edition, which means it's been edited nine times.

Nine times.

Take a good look at the cover and find the irony.  Recall that this book is required reading for an education class.

An education class.

"I am (Not) a Vegetarian"

I post this poem in honor of Matt and most of his family. I'll keep it in mind the next time I pass on the fleischkuechle (deep-fried dumplings filled with seasoned ground beef) at a family gathering.

"Why I am Not a Vegetarian"
By David Oliveira

It's not that I love animals less,
a case could be made I love them more—
and it's not that I love vegetables less,
I love them rare,
nothing more savory than raw celery
clawing and kicking its way down the gullet.

What I find hard to stomach is vegetarians.
If there is a vegetarian at the table, we all
get called in to be witnesses at a police lineup.
Cheese, eggs, fish,
each suspect paraded for identification—
pronounced innocent, guilty,
please take two steps forward.

And it's not like there is just one canon
for the good host to worry about.
Each vegetarian comes with a different menu.
Most won't eat anything that had legs,
though many eat fish, a fin nothing like a leg,
And eat shrimp, that have legs
which count as fins since they come from the sea
and taste so good in a Newburg sauce.
Oysters are problematic, without legs and from the sea,
but mostly eaten alive, like carrots.
A few pass on eggs because of the latent leg potential,
though pasta is usually okay,
the potential hard to realize under the marinara.

One friend doesn't drink milk
but asks for extra au jus
for his mashed potatoes. I haven't the heart
to explain what kind of vegetable the "au" is
or how many get squeezed to make a cup of "jus."

Don't misunderstand,
I admire those who stand on principle,
however vague, who doesn't admire
the resolve of, say, a Jerry Falwell,
to bear the weight of so much conviction
he can hardly walk to church.
Praise the Lord for limousines.
As my mother would say,
"Live and let live—
Just keep the details to yourself,
And pass the ketchup, please."

OMG, it's Cyrano de Bergerac!

As their final major assignment this year, my students were tasked with creating something that looked as much as possible like a Facebook page for one of the main characters in the classic play, Cyrano de Bergerac. The project was inspired by Sarah Schmelling's amazing book, Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens Who Don't Float.

While I told students to create something that resembled a Facebook page, these technology-loving members of the Millennial Generation asked if they could create a new Facebook account instead. I agreed. And I'm so glad I did.

Letting them create the project in this familiar platform gave them such amazing freedom to convey the emotions and relationships so inherent to the understanding (and, more importantly, the appreciation) of this play.

I have to share an example of the type of work my students created. I'm sharing this in part because the work is so terribly entertaining, but I'm mostly sharing it because these students won't be my students after next week. What better way to pay tribute to them than by showing off their work?

Take some time to poke through all three of these profiles (as well as the groups characters have joined and other creations; you'll see some actual Facebook users joining their groups): First, Cyrano de Bergerac, the brilliant swordsman who is quick-witted, but embarrassed about the size of his nose. Second, beautiful Roxane, the woman whom Cyrano loves, but who loves the handsome Christian instead. Cyrano helps Christian woo Roxane, only to find out too late that she came to love Cyrano's soul, not Christian's looks. It's a classic love triangle, which is why it lends itself so well to Facebook...and teenagers.

"The Couple"

I came across this poem the other day. It seemed a bit depressing at first, but I think its essence is what each of us hopes to find in our old age--someone to lie next to us, bearing our burden while we do the same.

"The Couple"
by Louis Jenkins

They no longer sleep quite as well as they did
when they were younger. He lies awake thinking
of things that happened years ago, turning
uncomfortably from time to time, pulling on the
blankets. She worries about money. First one
and then the other is awake during the night,
in shifts as if keeping watch, though they can't
see very much in the dark and it's quiet. They
are sentries at some outpost, an abandoned fort
somewhere in the middle of the Great Plains
where only the wind is a regular visitor. Each
stands guard in the wilderness of an imagined
life in which the other sleeps untroubled.

Nuggets of Matt Brilliance

Matt: "I think I know why you're an English teacher."

Me: "Oh, really? Why?"

Matt: "So you can correct whoever you want."

Me: "That's not true. And it's 'whomever.'"

Happy National Grammar Day!

This is my gift to you:

The definition of irony

Our principal asked some students this week who their favorite teachers are. One of my students wrote down my name. While I'm flattered, I'm also a bit embarrassed by his written explanation:

"When my grammars of essay isn't good, she revises well so that I would know why should I fix and change."

Obviously, we didn't chat about this particular piece of writing.

Grammar Violations

Each week, my students work on a new "grammar violation," i.e., the little grammar bugaboos that drive me insane. We spend the early parts of the year on its/it's, everyday/every day, etc., but we get into more nitpicky grammar later in the year.

Do you know the difference between these words? Do any stump you?

Less/Fewer
Further/Farther
Real/Really
See/Seen
Anxious/Eager
Between/Among
That/Which
Convince/Persuade
Aggravate/Irritate
Imply/Infer

An etymologist's dilemma

On the way home from school today, I was passed (quite speedily, I might add) by a man driving a vehicle with handicapped plates (or, for the PC and alliteration-loving among us, "disabled person parking plates").

First, the juxtaposition of the plates with the speed with which he passed me (he was going at least 90) made me laugh. Before he completely zipped by, however, I caught a glimpse of something that kept me entertained for the rest of the trip--vanity plates that read "LAME."

This puzzled me. Did he mean that it was "totally lame" that his know-it-all children or bossy wife made him get the "disabled person parking plates"? Or was being lame, in fact, his disability?

Pearls of Teenage Wisdom

One of my students' vocabulary words last week was "extol," which means "to praise extravagantly." While grading their quizzes, I came across this gem of a sentence:

"Whenever my dog goes to the bathroom outside, I have to extol it."

After I stopped laughing, I wrote on her paper, "What must you praise? The dog, or what it leaves behind?"

Farewell, Keith Waterhouse

I wasn't too familiar with Keith Waterhouse while he was alive, but I wish now that I had been. David sent me a link to Mr. Waterhouse's recent obituary, which read, in part:

"His last column for The Daily Mail, 'It’s English as She Is Spoke Innit?,' written in May, dealt with language education. He was the founder and life president of the Association for the Annihilation of the Aberrant Apostrophe, a fictional organization dedicated to combating false plurals like tomato’s and road signs like the one he spotted near Sevenoaks, with letters three feet high that read BUSE’S ONLY."

After a long week of trying to make 15-year-olds care why "BUSE'S" is wrong, it's that much more depressing that someone who not only cared, but championed our cause, is no longer with us.

Click here to read more about Mr. Waterhouse, England's "All-Rounder."

Anarky

There are so many things about this picture that I love.

I don't even know where to start.

Perhaps with a poster-size print matted, framed and displayed prominently in our home.


p.s. Thanks for the picture, Garrett!

Governor Palin? It's your editor on line 1.

I have to give a huge shout-out to Abbi who said "If we don't laugh, we'll cry" about this Vanity Fair posting. Ironically--or perhaps, appropriately--I laughed until I cried when I read it. Click the image for the full-size, three-page version.

In fairness to Governor Palin, I think most of us would sound like this if we spoke off the cuff. On the other hand, there are few things funnier to me than political humor and grammar humor. Throw them together with a touch of historical humor, and I'm down for the count.