Bloody Well Write

A friend of mine has a dog — and an extraordinarily adorable one at that — named Google. This same friend is also the technology teacher at a local middle school. The dog’s name, then, makes even more sense, yes?

So when this friend asked me the proper way to spell the word that implies the action of looking something up on the popular search engine named Google (and then suggested that it could make a decent blog topic — smart friend), I just had to help.

Google, the ridiculously cute pup (photo: courtesy of Google's owner-mom)

So how do you spell it? Depending on your phrasing, there are a few ways to get your point across:

• He is going to Google “How to use a neti pot” whenever his sinuses start to flare up.
• I Googled the movie times for “Eat, Pray, Love” — so excited to see it.
• She found a groovy pair of blue beaded sandals by Googling them — and they were available in her size.

Notice that the final “e” remains in the first two examples but gets dropped when the suffix -ing gets added. (It’s Googling, not Googleing.) Note, too, that all instances use an uppercase “G” in the initial position. According the the newest AP Stylebook, it’s Google when you’re talking about the company and search engine, indeed, but it’s also Google when you’re employing a verb. Same goes for Googled and Googling. One day, all references (save the company name, search engine and awesome dog) may be lowercased, but that day has yet to come.

Don’t just take my word for it; why don’t you Google it for yourself?

Happy trails!

SAK

I went to a Dave Matthews Band concert (my fourth) last night and, yes, they were as fantastic live as ever. So what does it have to do with language? Ooh, so glad you want to know.

Going to the show, I was thinking about different songs that I hoped the band would play. (”Long Black Veil” was on my list but didn’t make the lineup.) “One Sweet World” popped into my head. (But, alas, it didn’t get any stage time, either.)

Say “One Sweet World” without thinking about a yummy scoop — or bowl — of Ben & Jerry’s “One Sweet Whirled” ice cream; it can’t be done, at least not by me.

And then I thought, “Hey, that would make a great topic for a Bloody Well Write entry.” And so it begins.

So what’s this thing called wherein two words, such as world and whirled, sound alike but have different meanings, origins and (usually) spellings? They’re called homophones, my friends.

In a perfect world (and I use the term perfect extraordinarily rarely, as it’s the unicorn of language — it pretty much doesn’t exist), world and whirled would be pronounced slightly differently, with world having a deeper, rounder sound and whirled sounding a bit more forward in the mouth, sort of tinny. As I mentioned, though, this world is far from perfect and the vast majority of folks would agree that world and whirled sound alike.

Homophones are, in the English language, words that confuse English as a second language (ESL) folks and everyone else trying to expand vocabulary. You may have a particular homophone or two that still haunt you to this day. Have no fear that you’re alone in this matter, because you’re absolutely not. Here are just a few that I usually have to look up to be doubly sure that I’m using the correct word:

• Awful (not good)
• Aweful (full of awe)
• Cord (rope)
• Chord (musical tones)
• Disc (as in CD-ROM disc, videodisc, disc brakes)
• Disk (as in floppy disk, slipped disk)
• Forgo (to do without)
• Forego (to precede)
• Verses (paragraphs)
• Versus (against)

You get the idea, right? Homophones: fun with the confounding English language!

The connection with Ben & Jerry’s is that the Dave Matthews Band partnered with them back in 2002 to create a caramel and coffee ice cream concoction with marshmallows and caramel swirls, complete with coffee-flavored fudge chips in the shape of guitars. The bad news is that, as far as I can tell, this particular ice cream has been discontinued. Sniff.

The good news is that Ben & Jerry’s and the Dave Matthews Band are both, as ever, concerned with improving the environment and people’s lives. If you’d like to contribute to a cause near and dear to the band’s heart, visit The Bama Works Fund of Dave Matthews Band. Or keep eating Ben & Jerry’s other crazy-fantastic flavors and visit the company website to learn more about how the company works toward environmental health and peace and justice for all.

Happy trails!

SAK

For those who don’t know me well, I will share this morsel with you:

I’m all about food.

Granted, I’m a pescetarian — someone who doesn’t eat land animals (e.g., chicken, cow, pig, sheep, etc.) — but I do eat seafood and fish, in addition to fruits, dairy products, grains and the occasional vegetable. And tomatoes? They’re OK, I suppose. I’ve eaten them my entire life but haven’t really been in awe of them.

Not, that is, until the past decade, when a friend introduced me to Insalata Caprese. Now, I’m hooked.

Insalata Caprese translates from Italian into English thus: salad from Capri. OK, so what does that mean? It’s a super-simple salad that consists of slices of fresh tomato (I like Roma tomatoes but any tomato that can be cut into relatively thick slices can work), slices of buffalo mozzarella and leaves of fresh basil, all layered and topped with ground pepper, salt and a drizzle of olive oil.

The simplicity of such a salad is deceiving, for the flavors unassumingly complement each other exquisitely. Popular variations include swapping olive oil for an Italian dressing or — my favorite — a balsamic vinaigrette or reduction.

Yummy.

Insalata Caprese (http://www.flickr.com/photos/79928508@N00/4487629379/)

I’m not sure if it’s just coincidence or if it’s the Italian way of imbedding national pride in the local cuisine, but the layered salad shares the same colors as the Italian flag. Sort of reminds me of a very American dessert made to look like the American flag, with white whipped topping, blueberries and raspberries.

Anyhoo, the point of this entry is to clear up the pronunciation issue surrounding this phenomenally simple first course. How the heck do you say Caprese?

From what I’ve gathered through personal accounts, Internet research and an unofficial survey of friends with decent vocabularies (!), it should be pronounced like this:

Ka-PREY-zay.

Now, dear Bloody Well Write readers: If you think that I’m blowing smoke and have it on authority from your great-grandmama (who’s from Capri or Naples (not Florida, BTW) or such) that it should be pronounced XYZ, then by all means, send me a message and I’ll revise this post. But as far as I know — and how I’ll be embarrassing myself in the future to all friends, family and complete strangers who will listen to me babble about the fantastic foods that I love — I’m saying Ka-Prey-zay Salad.

Happy trails!

SAK

It’s always a good feeling to receive a message from a friend that includes, among other things, an idea for a Bloody Well Write segment. This short-but-sweet post is a result of just such a message.

Orange peel as art (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/shazbot/3180939672/)

Peel = a verb meaning to cut or strip off the outer layer of something, such as the skin of an orange, a heavy sweater, the bark of a tree or the top layer of paint; it’s also a slang term meaning to undress: He peeled off his wet swim trunks and jumped in the shower to wash off the chlorine. It often refers to keeping a lookout for something: Keep your eyes peeled for a bright red VW Beetle. (Slug bug! Whack!)

Peel = a noun meaning the rind or skin of a fruit, such as a grapefruit, banana or apple.

Peal = a noun meaning the loud ringing of a bell or set of bells; it also means any loud, prolonged sound, such as gunfire, thunder or laughter.

Thanks, A.M., for the idea.

Happy trails!

SAK

I was reading an article in an aviation magazine today (true story) and ran across an article with a title that mentioned an ax to grind.

First problem: The title was split on two lines and the word ax was at the end of the first line, with to grind at the beginning of the second line. Ech. It’s no fun to read a typical phrase such as this one that’s been split in two as if it’s a banana flippin’ split.  Ruins the flow for the reader. Not to mention that the last word on the first line is a mere two letters long.

But I digress once again.

Second and, for the purpose of this entry, main problem: Ax was spelled ax. Two letters. It just looked wrong.

So what did I do?

(Wait for it.)

Someone ought to have an ax to grind with the room designer (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mccready/3069366812/)

OK, don’t wait for it. You know the drill; I looked it up on Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary and — what the?! — ax is the preferred spelling! The dictionary gods must be crazy, but apparently they have deemed axe (three letters and the spelling that I grew up with, unless my memory is playing tricks on me) as the secondary spelling. The variant. The sub-par. Egads.

There you have it. I might not like ax right now, but I will after a few days of stewing. I hope that you will, too.

Happy trails!

SAK

I love reading to my kids. No matter what else happened that day — good or bad — and no matter how many times I reprimanded them throughout the day, at the dinner table or while getting ready for bed, that time spent snuggling head to head, cheek to cheek, shoulder to shoulder while flipping through a book that we’ve read 67 times before is, as they say, priceless.

And that doesn’t even include all the weird mistakes we find in said books. They’re real gems, those mistakes.

Tonight’s story was P.D. Eastman’s “Go, Dog. Go!” It’s especially fun for a word nerd like me because I get to point out three types of punctuation in the title alone, and I get such a thrill when my 4-year-old exclaims, “Explanation point, Mom! I found one!”

She makes me so proud.

But something always bugged me about the wording inside. There are two dogs, one male and one female, who periodically meet throughout the book. Both dogs wear various hats. The girl dog asks the boy dog if he likes her hat, and he always says some version of “No, I don’t like that hat.” So they part, the girl dog looking miffed and the boy dog looking oblivious. The last meeting ends amicably because the girl dog has gone all out — and I mean all out — in designing her hat; the boy dog finally agrees that her hat is pretty cool.

Do you like my hat? (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/table4five/4067671771/)

What got me, though, was how Eastman spelled good-by (without an ending “e”). It just doesn’t look right to me. And when that happens, that not-quite-right feeling, it’s best if I just look it up. And of course I did, but it took more than a year to do it (sort of like how I go into the kitchen with the intention of getting a glass of water but find dirty dishes in the sink, so I wash them and then realize that I need some bleach to clean up and go downstairs to get it but see an unfolded blanket in the living room, so I go ahead and fold it first, but then … you get the picture).

So I looked it up via Merriam-Webster. And I found good-bye (with a final “e”) to be the first (and thus most prominent) spelling. While good-by made the dictionary’s second spelling, it is still considered a variant.

And then I checked it out in the brand-spanking-new 2010 AP Stylebook (feel free to envy me) and, within those magical pages, goodbye exists, sans hyphen! Now that, my friends, made my day.

So goodbye it is, arrivederci,  auf wiedersehen and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Happy trails!

SAK

I was writing an article the other day and wanted to write about something being paid attention to in a timely and appropriate fashion and, for the life of me, I blanked on how to spell duly (as in duly noted). Is it dooly? Dooley? Duley? Duely?

Good grief. My mind must be slipping.

So I looked it up, as I always — and often — do when I’m not 100 percent sure of the spelling or definition. Good ol’ Merriam-Webster to the rescue! Dating back to the 14th century, this adverb means “in a due manner of time,” and properly, at that.

Dudley Do-Right always duly notes the evil doings of Snidely Whiplash

Another way to look at it is that the matter at hand will be receiving the attention and consideration it has due (although this sounds slightly you-OWE-me demanding to me, which doesn’t often sit well with some folks).

And its correct spelling? Duly.

Duly noted.

Happy trails!

SAK

Here’s something for you noncomputer geeks.

OK, maybe that’s an assumption. Maybe you’re knowledgeable in all things computer but don’t know this little gem. Or perhaps you barely know how to turn your PC on but know the exact meaning and spelling of this topic. Either way, you probably have run across this big boy at some point.

And I digress yet again. Here it is:

Captcha. Or more correctly, CAPTCHA.

What the … ?! Um-hmm. It’s a real word. Really, it’s a loose acronym for Competely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart (or so says Wikipedia).

It sounds like capture. It frustrates many an Internet scammer and frequent Web surfer alike. And it’s brilliant. So what is it?

Some CAPTCHAs are discernible, some not so much (photo: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a7/KCAPTCHA_with_crowded_symbols.gif)

It’s that box with the warped letters and numbers, the one that you’re supposed to look at and figure out what those twisted letters and numbers are and then type them into another box, with the hope that you’ve got them right. If so, you move on to the next screen, you pass go. If not, you try again or get blocked from further attempts.

Granted, there are a lot of technical details that go along with the CAPTCHA, but this isn’t the forum for those details. Just know that I learned something today and I hope that I have been able to share a little somethin’-somethin’ with a Bloody Well Write reader or two.

Now, go and try to decipher one of those suckers.

Happy trails!

SAK

It’s a tough town, Los Angeles. Even for a famous and currently employed actor, it’s hard to catch a break in Hollywood.

Take Julia Louis-Dreyfus, for example. On Tuesday, May 4, CNN senior producer David Daniel walked by the newly embedded pink marble star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame honoring Louis-Dreyfus and noticed that the actor’s name had two mistakes in it:
• The “o” in Louis was missing.
• The hyphen between Louis and Dreyfus was missing.

Daniel reported the gaffe to the Walk of Fame press rep.

Four hours later, Louis-Dreyfus arrived to receive her star — the 2,407th — and found a temporary chiseled fix of her name on the star.

The Hollywood Walk of Fame (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/christianhaugen/3556803658/)

Her response?

“Right when you think you’ve made it, you get knocked down,” she joked. “It’s an ideal metaphor for how this business works.”

’Atta girl, JLD. Take it in stride.

The misspelled Hollywood star will be replaced with a corrected (and triple-proofread) version soon. Louis-Dreyfus asked for the botched star as a keepsake.

This isn’t the first time an actor’s name has been misspelled on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. In 1993, Dick Van Dyke’s star had to be remade.

The upshot of this spelling blunder? David Daniel can now add Hollywood proofreader to his already-impressive résumé.

Happy trails!

SAK

Yet another recent style change — or change back — from the AP Stylebook folks concerns the abbreviation of microphone. Back in March ‘10, the AP folks put it out there: The abbreviation that used to be mic would henceforth be mike.

No one could hear the announcement over the roar of the crowd.

According to Slate Magazine, the broadcast wing of the AP raised a hullabaloo fierce enough to cause AP to reverse that decision.

Hey, Mike: Is this thing on? (photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/snackerdesigns/4221001947/)

I’m torn.

To me, the abbreviation should, indeed, have fewer of the same letters as the original word, but not different letters (such as mike — ain’t no no k in microphone). But the three-letter mic looks like it should sound like mick (or Mick). Beside the fact that mike with a lowercase m is slightly weird, I was going to be OK with the change; after all, other words that are proper nouns are also regular ol’ nouns — think of Pat/pat, Bob/bob, Art/art and Bill/bill. I even know a few elementary school jokes that say as much.

Then again, if you’re riding around your neighborhood on a bicycle (sans the letter k), you’re on your bike and not your  bic. (What? You are on a bic? Now that would be something to see. Or not.)

This is why I defer to the AP Stylebook on most cases.

So for the record, it’s currently mic for microphone.

Happy trails!

SAK