The first line of the blog post read, “I was flying in to Cape Corral Fla. on southwest” and I was forced to swallow the bile that immediately rose. Admittedly, the rest of the story was entertaining, but I had too much difficulty getting past that first line to enjoy it. You see, I’m a grammar Nazi. A spelling Nazi. A detail in the written word Nazi. Had the line read, “I was flying in to Fort Myers, FL on Southwest”, I could have enjoyed it more. I happen to know that Southwest likes their name capitalized, that Cape Coral doesn’t have an airport, and I know how that particular city spells its name. I’m my own worst enemy.
I have a group of friends online that are the same. We skip through the interwebs and get together in little groups to point our collective cyber fingers at the grammatical miscreants and laugh at them privately.
But, I realize I need to change my ways. I have friends who tell me they’re afraid to comment on anything I post because they fear I’ll point out their errors; if not to them, then to my other grammatically high-brow friends. It’s gotten to the point that I actually annoy myself. I won’t go into a store with a misspelled word on their marquee or in their windows. Cutsie spellings just piss me off, and I won’t ever buy ice cream at Kustard Korner, even though I crave their root beer floats more than breath.
I realize that I have become Sheldon Cooper; I’m annoying, and not in a cute way. I feel superior and refuse to take into consideration the fact that I can’t shoot a hoop, work a mathematical equation or rebuild an engine. My grammatical skills have made me a snob.
So, from here on out, I’m going to try to amend my ways. Tpyos are just something taht happen. Kyootsie spellings will be overlooked and I’ll learn to think of them as kewl.
txt spk wl b 4gvn No, I’m sorry. I just can’t go there. Pour grammar n speling will be… Oh, hell. Who am I kidding? Certainly not me, and probably not ewe.
Did I mention that the book I’m currently reading is set in 1977 and they drink bottled water and play Pac Man at the arcade? Do you have any idea about just how much this pisses me off?
It’s baby steps, Bob. Baby steps.
*Image of Jim Parsons as Sheldon Cooper courtesy of Google