Intermission

I am in the middle of reading lots of books, but at the end of none. In the mean time, here's an adorable picture of the librarian's cat when he was just a wee kitten. When my friend Natalia, whose cat spawned Oscar, posted this on Facebook, I remembered why I tolerate him. And he still finds plastic bags alluring.

In other life-related news, this week I started taking Computer Science 101 for FREE through Udacity. A real-life nerdy cute professor is teaching a gazillion people how to build a search engine with Python, which is extremely generous and awesome. The one logical piece of my brain is operated by a very tiny hamster on a rickety wheel, so I am hoping I can keep up because I very much want to enter the world of information geekery. I think that is most of why I enjoy calling myself a librarian.

Why I'm Not a Grammar Nazi

I have two bones to pick with this e card. First, I'll probably be humming along with the Pussycat Dolls all day. The second bone is much more long winded, so keep reading and I'll be your friend.

I took a class in college called Advanced Grammars. On the first day, the professor asked us why we were interested in grammar. My naive response was something along the lines of, "I like being a grammar nazi." He looked disturbed, nodded,  and moved on. Throughout the semester, I grew rather embarrassed about my response, as I learned the difference between prescriptive grammar and descriptive grammar. The professor was (and is, of course) a linguist, and he favored the descriptive. He taught us that language is ever-evolving and that supposedly incorrect usage eventually becomes acceptable and even correct with popular usage.

Meanwhile, I was also learning more about prescriptive grammar in my other classes. My favorite English professor of all time was a hardcore prescriptivist. The Little, Brown Handbook was her Bible. She taught us what is CORRECT in Standard American English (SAE). We were not to split infinitives (see?), and the correct possessive form of the last name Jones would be Jones's (I've never met anyone else who does that cause it looks crazy). I still hold these things dear when it comes to writing. I love Oxford commas as much as the next librarian. Sometimes I feel irked when sentences end with prepositions. But I also begin sentences with conjunctions, and when asked how I'm doing I usually answer, "good," instead of, "well." Thus, I may correct someone's non-SAE speech in my head, and I am amused by really poor writing and obviously unedited publications, but I try to avoid practicing grammar nazism. (Don' t get me wrong, though. I do believe it's important that English speaking people learn SAE as well as they can for the sake of their futures).

Case in point, the image up there. A kazillion people have already pointed this out all over the interwebs, but I'll do it again for fun. The SAE version of that sentence would be, "Don't you wish your girlfriend were grammatically correct like me?" because it's subjunctive. Some people believe it should end with, "like I," as well. See more of that argument here. Moreover, an English teacher somewhere pointed out that a person cannot be grammatically correct-- only the language can do that. A person can merely speak or write in a grammatically correct fashion. Of course the card is amusing, and of course that's how the song goes, and of course that's how most of us speak every day, but it isn't "grammatically correct" in the way most self-professed grammar nazis would want it to be (woops).

There are a few possibilities about the provenance of this image. Most likely someone with an incomplete grasp of SAE was attempting to be REALLY EFFING WITTY. However, it may have been the work of a clever trouble maker who wanted to rile the grammar nazis. That would be really effing witty indeed.

Long story short, that's why I am a reformed grammar nazi. There are FOUR topics that are inappropriate for polite conversation due to their inflammatory nature: religion, politics, the great pumpkin, and grammar. Grammar nazis cannot possibly speak perfect English because perfect English doesn't exist, and even if it did, nobody would get it right all the time. Inevitably, grammar nazis face the same fate as those who assume.

Travel without Travail

The cat's librarian spent last week under sunny Florida skies while the libarian's cat set off the security system by leaping across the room in glee (or terror) at being left to his own devices for a few days. We were reunited with an OCD arm biting session and lots of cuddles last night.

My trip back home to Lakeland was utterly enjoyable, and I'm so glad for the pleasant surprise. I was feeling trepidation about seeing my parents because they're a bit wacky, and meeting my friend soulmate Sarah's fiancée and new pals because I am socially inept, but everything stayed light and fun. My parents were mostly amusing instead of terrifying now that I know I don't have to become them, and Sarah's associates were friendly and fun.

Even the Southwest flights were superb-- smooth sailing through the sky. The crews staffing both flights were fantastic. One sarcastic fellow asked every single passenger if he or she would like a "delicious drink," and a female flight attendant made an endearing sound effect when she saw an elderly woman's eagle cane and became excited about him flying with us. On the way in, I met a Nashville musician traveling home from a Vegas gig, and he proved fairly amusing with his recruitment of petite seat fellows and assumption that a group of African American men were musicians because they owned fancy headphones and happened to be black. On the way home, I became convinced that Iowa and Missouri are the friendliest places on earth due to the pleasant personalities I encountered from both states.

The obvious next topic of discussion is "What did you read on the plane?" so here goes. I didn't manage to finish a book because I was flailing about in my sleep on the return trip, but on the way to Tampa I enjoyed the first half of The Starboard Sea by Amber Dermont. This one was a Net Galley find, and I believe it will be released later this month. I haven't finished, so no review is in order, but I hope to post something shortly so that St. Martin's will let me read more galleys! The description bills it as a modern Catcher in the Rye, so I had to try it out. While I don't recognize Holden Caulfield in the protagonist (nickname Prosper), I am enjoying the seaside prep school setting, learning about sailing, and thinking this is an adult novel with great crossover teen appeal.

I'll fill you in on the rest soon, but for now I must prepare a game of giant Angry Birds for teen library patrons tomorrow.