Loser Pangs

I'm 18 years old. I'm working the cash register at the local Kash 'N Karry grocery store. It's a good hair day. I feel pretty. A good-looking guy comes through the line -- a guy with the air of being on the make. Big time. He gets to the front of the line. He leans closer. And with a handsome, devious smile he nods in the direction of my co-worker April and asks, "Is she single?"

For a long time, I thought no one else suffered from occasionally feeling like a speck of dust. And I didn't bring it up, either, because I default to pettiness. For example, you wouldn't believe how many things I could find wrong with April's looks -- not to mention her I.Q.

I figured these feelings, which I hereby dub “loser pangs,” were something I would outgrow. Apparently not.

Both my books are about grammar nitpickers gone wild. “Grammar Snobs Are Great Big Meanies” is in its sixth printing. (Could be seventh by now. I’m not sure.) “Mortal Syntax” I believe is better. I’ve written a column on grammar for about five years. I’ve been on NPR. Been on TV. At a recent library expo, got to be, basically, an opening standup act for Paula Poundstone. Also, I conquered alcoholism and got a college degree despite dropping out of school in the ninth grade.

And none of that can erase the big L on my forehead today.

Today’s New York Times website has a page devoted to the topic of grammar. Its introduction begins:

“Why are people so obsessed with grammar, and so offended by real or imagined
lapses? They argue over split infinitives and sentences that end in
prepositions, almost to the point of blows. (Winston Churchill was supposedly so
exasperated by a speechwriter’s avoidance of prepositional endings that he
erupted: “This is the sort of bloody nonsense up with which I will not put.”
Note the use of the weaselly word “supposedly”: some sources say an anonymous
British official, not Churchill, was the source of the famous remark.)”

Pretty much the drum I’ve been beating for years.

The site lists dozens of resources and blogs and articles and even books -- none of them mine.
I figured that I was on par with “When You Catch an Adjective, Kill It,” by Ben Yagoda.
I figured wrong. And a keyword search confirmed it. I just don’t rank.

So this morning, as my coffee is still just beginning to kick in, I’m wrestling with loser pangs.

I sure hope April got fat.

A Veteran's Parting Thoughts on the Los Angeles Times and the News Biz

My former boss, Bill Lobdell, who recently took a buyout from the Los Angeles Times, has posted his insights on the future of the paper. Great reading for anyone interested in the news business: http://lobdellsoc.blogspot.com/2008/08/42-things-i-know.html

It's funny how you think your ideas are original until someone who "brought you up" states them -- then suddenly you realize where you got them from. As a reporter and city editor in the Times' community news division working under Bill, I adopted his same passion for and belief in community news. It was only upon reading his post yesterday that I realized my ideas weren't original.

Copy-editing Arcana and Advertising-related Irony

I’ve come across variations of this twice in the last week:

“Working together, they honed in on the problem.”

It’s “homed in.”

The verb “hone” means to sharpen or make more acute.

The verb “home” means, according to American Heritage:

1. To go or return to one's residence or base of operations.
2. To be guided to a target automatically, as by means of radio waves.
3. To move or lead toward a goal: The investigators were homing in on the truth.

And now for something completely different ... A funny note about my attempt on Friday to trick Google’s ad-assigning computer.

That blog post hasn’t attracted any of the ads I thought it would – male enhancement, etc. But the next-day's post brought a surprise. The post about “relieve/relive stress” attracted a “comment” from a “reader” named Samantha. It said, “I enjoyed reading your post. Read about stress relief at my website …” and a link to a business site.

Somehow I doubt that Samantha enjoyed reading my post. But I suspect that, somewhere in the non-osphere, Google AdSense demons are laughing at me.

Touche, Google!

I expected that, by now, based on my Friday post, Google would have placed here ads for body creams, travel sites, or miracle manhood cures.

Yet, like most every time I come up with an idea I think is so damn clever, this one backfired. Instead of taking the bait and putting the expected ads on my site, Google's surprisingly sarcastic computer put me in my place instead.

As of this writing, the prominent new ad on my site -- the direct result of my clever idea -- is titled, "Bathroom Ideas."

You've won this round, Google.

Barf-inducing Language Trend du Jour

Enjoy a mani and a pedi.

... meaning "manicure and pedicure."

Yacktacular.

P.S. I copy edit stuff like this. Please don't think I would read material of this nature unless I was being paid to.

Wonderings and Googlings (Wherein I wonder about words, then I Google them)

relieve stress = 1,890,000 hits
relive stress = 17,000 hits

(More fun: The first hit for "relive stress" says, "Physical contact is a great way to relive stress," and appears to be from an article that appeared in some publication of Caltech.)

Cellulite cures don't work, male enhancement pills are for suckers, fares to Hawaii right now are overpriced, and today's stock market is a money pit

Truth is, I know nothing about cellulite cures or male enhancement pills. They could be modern miracles for all I know. Really, I don't care.

I just wrote that because I'm incredibly amused by this whole Google ad business.

A few months ago, I figured out how to put these automated Google ads on my blog. For most bloggers, it's no-brainer technology. But I still struggle to understand it.

I thought I read that payment is based on the number of times people click ads. According to my statement, I have received exactly zero clicks. (I’m kind of proud of this, by the way. It suggests I have smart readers. No many. But smart.) Yet I have indeed earned money from these ads. Perhaps there’s also some payment that I didn't read about that's based on page views. Still, I report to you today that I have now raked in advertising revenues totaling 15 cents.

(Google, by the way, sends you a check when and if that total ever reaches $100. So I’ll look forward to cashing that in sometime around age 70, when it’ll probably pay for one gallon of gas.)

But one thing I have figured out about these ads: They’re automatically assigned to my blog based on keywords. And the software that assigns them isn’t very discriminating. I write, "Merriam-Webster sucks," and two days later an ad pops up for Merriam-Webster.

That’s pretty funny.

So, hoping that you too find this stuff amusing, I’m dedicating today’s blog entry to seeing whether I score any ads for cellulite treatments, male enhancement, Hawaiian Airlines, or some sucker investing tips.

Who knows? If that’s really where the money is, maybe when I’m 70 I’ll be able to afford two gallons of gas. Or, perhaps by then I’ll want to invest it in male enhancement.

(P.S. If you’re thinking of clicking on the ads to give me a leg up, that’s sweet but please don’t! The Google terms include my word that I won’t pull any tricks like that -- or ask readers to. I suspect that, if there’s one thing their computer really is good at it’s knowing when they’re getting ripped off. I’d rather stay an ad-click virgin.)

Thanks for listening and, P.S., Merriam-Webster sucks.