All You Create

A Realtor (the term is a service mark and, as such, demands an initial cap R) is a member of the National Association of Realtors (NAR). And that’s nothing to sneeze at.

Not all real estate agents are Realtors

The NAR is a trade organization for real estate agents; it provides comprehensive information — including classes, research, a trade-specific magazine and activities — for its members. Founded in 1908, the NAR now has more than 1.3 million members. Its core purpose is to help its members become more profitable and successful.

To join the NAR, real estate agents must first join their local real estate board. At that point, they are free to become an NAR member. This, of course, prohibits people such as me (wanna-be real estate agents) from joining just for the fun of it. Because you know I would.

The main point of this entry is this: Don’t go throwing around the term Realtor willy-nilly. Verify that the agent you’re referring to is, indeed a member of the NAR and then use either Realtor or real estate agent accordingly.

And please note that there is only one a in Realtor; it should be pronounced as it’s spelled (real-tor) — not real-a-tor. Realtors will thank you much.

Happy trails!

SAK

No, I didn’t misspell the title of this entry.

There is no “n” in the word that describes the proprietor of a restaurant.

Even if it’s a hillbilly restaurant. Still no “n.”

They “got the weenies”

Just for fun
You have to hear the HillBilly Hot Dogs theme song. (Turn your computer’s speakers on and up.) And if you’re ever in Lesage or Huntington, W.V., stop by this joint for some grub: As the song says, they “got the weenies!”

Happy trails!

SAK

What’s being called into question here is how you write (or type or text) mom and dad. Should they be uppercase or lowercase? Mom or mom? Dad or dad?

As with just about everything else in life, it depends.

Go ahead: Bribe me with Chunky Monkey (I’ll bite)

You want easy answers? You got ’em.

Uppercase
If you’re referencing your folks as if you’re using their names (not their given names, as most kids don’t ask their folks, “Yo, Johnny boy and mamma Mia, what’s for dinner?” but instead the names you have called them since you could talk: Mom and Dad), then you uppercase the terms:

• Hey, Mom, can I have some ice cream?
• I love Dad because he lets me stay up later than Mom does.
• I don’t know if I should take the convertible; I guess I should probably ask Dad.

Lowercase
If you’re referencing your folks (or your friend’s folks) with an adjective in front of the word, then you lowercase mom or dad:

• My mom gave me three ginormous scoops of Chunky Monkey ice cream.
• I love my dad because he lets me stay up to watch “Saturday Night Live.” My mom would have a cow if she knew.
• Should we take the convertible? In theory, we should ask your dad.

Would your dad hand you the keys?

That’s it — no adjective, uppercase. Adjective, lowercase. Now go tell your mom thanks for all the frozen treats she’s let you snarf.

Happy trails!

SAK

Isn’t that what you hear when one person uses irregardless and another person corrects the first person, saying that the correct word is regardless? Funny thing, though: According to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, there is such a word, albeit a not-well-regarded one. Here’s what the online mother of all dictionaries has to say:

Irregardless originated in dialectal American speech in the early 20th century. Its fairly widespread use in speech called it to the attention of usage commentators as early as 1927. The most frequently repeated remark about it is that “there is no such word.” There is such a word, however. It is still used primarily in speech, although it can be found from time to time in edited prose. Its reputation has not risen over the years, and it is still a long way from general acceptance. Use regardless instead.

Aha! Since Merriam-Webster states that it is, indeed, a real word, doesn’t that give you license to use it?

It’s not too cool for fashion, either

Nope. That last line — “Use regardless instead” — stands firm. Although plenty of folks say irregardless, that doesn’t make it correct. The theory of its origin is that irregardless is a fusion of irrespective and regardless. It probably started because someone was trying to sound smart in front of some friends and it just caught on, like a bad trend. Just a guess.

Regardless (ahem) of how it started, it would be very cool of you to use regardless instead. You’ll sound smarter if you do.

Happy trails!

SAK

But wait. What about the Ph.D., M.A. and B.G.S. recipients who are not medical doctors? They, too, lost countless hours of sleep cramming for exams, just so they could add a couple of cool letters to their names. (OK, so that’s not the only reason they went to school, but you get the drift for this discussion.) Somehow, though, these folks often get mocked for trying to tag their academic degrees to their names in any public forum — which, in my opinion, is too bad. They worked just as hard for their degrees — no matter that it was in history or English or mathematics — so why shouldn’t they get the recognition, as well?

Regardless, the preferred way to mention someone’s credentials is not with abbreviations, but with a phrase, such as Dr. Sarah Sneed, a marine biologist or Dr. Evil, a mad scientist; the added language offers more description and less pomp. Sometimes, pomp is plenty good. And sometimes, pomp is just annoying. Use discretion.

One of my favorite “doctors”

The AP Stylebook recommends using abbreviations only when mentioning several people at the same time, making a phrase that describes each person’s credentials cumbersome. At that point, use the degree only at the end of the recipient’s full name on the first mention and drop it on subsequent mentions. Remember to set the degree off with commas:

• Marcus Welby, M.D.
• Bob Smith, Ph.D., presented his lecture. Dr. Smith received a round of applause.
• Dr. Sarah Sneed, a marine biologist, is a vegetarian.
• Oh, to write like the author Dr. Seuss — my writing, I fear, is much too loose.
• In attendance were Bill Black, Ph.D., Sherri White, M.A., Todd Green, D.D.S., and Erin Plum, M.D.

Note that when a title comes at the beginning of the person’s name, the degree does not follow. It’s Dr. Sarah Sneed, not Dr. Sarah Sneed, M.D.

I, by the way, am no doctor. I would’ve liked to have played one on TV, though.

Happy trails!

SAK

The term is proofread. One word. No hyphen. The same goes for other forms of the word: proofreader, proofreading.  Somehow, some way, the word gets split in two or includes a dreaded hyphen in lots of advertisements and employment requests — very uncool.

It’s all in the details

Proofreading, by the way, dates back to the 1920s. And what does one of these rare breeds do all day? A proofreader reads and marks corrections on a typeset document. Note that the proofreader marks corrections, not makes corrections. That job is typically left to a typesetter or designer. What kind of corrections? If you want to be literal and stick to the official job description, the proofreader only looks for typos and formatting issues on one document compared with another. Sometimes a document has nothing with which to be compared; this is called a blind proof. Modern-day proofreading, however, has an extended job description, which includes checking grammar and consistencies, as well as looking over copy at several stages prior to its being typeset.

Fun stuff, eh?

Happy trails!

SAK

RSVP stands for repondez s’il vous plait, meaning respond if you please. It is the French way of someone politely asking you to contact him or her in order to indicate whether you will be able to attend whatever event he or she sent you an invitation for. NOTE: The acronym does not call for periods, despite what some calligraphers deem necessary for high style.

High-style RSVP, with unnecessary periods

Let’s say that your friend Frankie mailed you an invitation to her son’s birthday party. The invitation has RSVP printed in bold letters, with a telephone number and e-mail address below it. The polite (and expected) thing to do, as soon as you receive the invitation, is to check your availability and immediately call or e-mail Frankie to let her know that you can or can’t make it to the party. If you two regularly contact each other some other way, such as tweeting or texting, that would probably be fine, as long as you verify that she received your message; but since the invitation listed a telephone number and e-mail address, one of those options would have less chance of somehow not getting your RSVP to her. It’s your call — just verify.

The purpose of the RSVP, by the way, is to help the person hosting the event to plan said event more efficiently. If 30 invitations are sent out (with 30 invitees) with no RSVP, then the host is assuming that 30 guests will arrive; the host will have to prepare to adequately serve 30 guests, plus the host and any of the host’s helpers or family.

But if an RSVP is on the invitation, the host’s hope is that if not everyone can make it and if those folks notify the host by the requested date, the host will be able to adjust the event requirements in time to save money and supplies. So, for example, Frankie could plan on buying a smaller cake and fewer jugs of fruit punch because seven invited guests replied that they could not come to the party, while 23 guests replied that they would be there, with bells on. And in these interesting economic times (yeah, you try to avoid that phrase these days), saving a few bucks here and there is a very good thing.

So please, folks, follow RSVP protocol and RSVP on or before the deadline on the invitation. If you’re a friend of the host (and you presumably are, or else why are you getting an invitation?), help him or her out and say that you’ll either be there or you can’t come.

One other thing: Don’t write, “Please RSVP by xyz.” The please is redundant.
One last thing: Don’t write, “RSVP in advance.” Duh — you’re expecting them to tell you they’ll be there after the shindig’s over?

Happy trails!

SAK

Ah. Now, don’t get blasé on me. This is a grammar blog, if you’ll remember, so yes, it is vastly important whether it’s verbal or oral (or written).

What’s the difference?

Oral = the spoken word
Written = the committed-to-paper word
Verbal = the having-anything-to-do-with-words word

In its innate sense, verbal means that something has to do with words, no matter if they are written, printed, spoken or thought. Although it has come to stand for the spoken word in loose terms, oral still trumps verbal as referring to anything spoken. The AP Stylebook suggests using verbal “to compare words with some other form of communication.” Some examples for clarity:

Oral — He gave an oral promise to stop by and take the freezer off her hands.
Written — She had a written agreement drawn up that stated the time and date that the man would come take the freezer off her hands.
Verbal — Once she realized that the man was not coming for her freezer — and that he had never signed her written agreement — she cried elephant tears that were more telling of her mind-set than any verbal sentiment she could have expressed.

Oh, the humanity.

Happy trails!

SAK

That’s the crux of the matter — the difference between having empathy and sympathy for someone’s plight. It seems as if everyone is sympathetic to our struggles, our pain, our anguish; they say as much:

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I feel your pain.”
“I know just how you feel.”
“I’ve been there, friend.”

But are those phrases really sympathetic? We rarely hear people say that they empathize with us; they almost always say that they sympathize with us.

So let’s clear this up.

Empathy = You feel empathy when you’ve experienced what the other person is now experiencing. You’ve been there, done that. You actually do know what that person may be feeling (probably not the exact emotions, but you can draw on your own experience and remember the feelings that you experienced during your own saga).

Sympathy = You feel sympathy when you haven’t experienced the same situation, but you can imagine what the person is going through.

Let’s say that a good friend’s dad/aunt/dog has just died. If you’ve gone through that horrible experience with your own dad/aunt/dog, you are probably going to be empathetic. The language you choose to use can gently explain your position: “I’m so sorry for your loss.” “I feel your pain.” “I know just how you feel.” “I’ve been there, friend.” All of those phrases are valid and possibly appropriate (although “I feel your pain” is a little over the top, if you ask me).

In the same situation, if you haven’t lost a dad/aunt/dog (or any person/animal that’s similar in relation, such as a mom/uncle/cat), it’s not a good idea to say, “I know just how you feel” or “ I’ve been there, friend” because it ain’t the truth. And everyone knows that the truth is typically the best path to take each and every time. If you blurt out something like one of those phrases, the person in pain has every right to call you on it and you shouldn’t get your nose out of joint if you get an earful from this person. Just be sympathetic and provide a shoulder to lean on.

Clear as mud? Here it is, simply:

Empathy = I’ve been there.
Sympathy = I can only imagine.

Happy trails!

SAK

So your neighbor just got a hot, new car that makes your get-along heap look a tad uncool. And yes, you would love an auto just like your neighbor’s — same smart color, same moon roof, same front heated seats. Do you envy your neighbor or are you jealous of your neighbor?

Scenario 2:
Your man (or woman), who is a hottie by all accounts, is suddenly partnered up with an equally attractive co-worker for a rousing three-legged race at the employee picnic, and you (who recently sprained your left big toe and have to sit on the sidelines) are forced to watch the two of them hobble and giggle all the way to the finish line. Assuming you’re not the perfect mate who cares not a whit about this situation, are you just a teensy bit jealous or are you a little envious?

Envy
Envy is one of the seven deadly sins. The decidedly Christian list also includes lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath and pride. Although the listed items are also mentioned as being not very good things throughout all kinds of religions, early Christians corralled them into a list. (Interesting note: Pride usually “wins” for being the most horrid of all the sins.)

Envy can be described as an insatiable desire for something, either material or intangible. It implies that someone desperately wants something that another has, and that the desperate person wishes that the person (who has ownership of the wanted thing) would not have that thing.

Really, it’s not a nice feeling to have; hoping that someone else experiences failure or loss simply does not build ones’ self-esteem up, no matter which way you look at it. Let it go, people. Live and let live. Give peace a chance.

Jealousy
A person is jealous if he or she has something (or someone or an ability) that he or she deems cool, and he or she would do just about anything to not lose that cool thing. That person may believe that someone (anyone) is out to get that cool thing, so that person lives life always looking over his or her shoulder, assuming that something bad is about to happen or someone is about to steal the cool thing.

That’s a depressing way to live. What’s the old saying? If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it was never yours in the first place. There you go.

Here’s the psychologist version: If you love somebody, set him or her free. If the person comes back, his or her super ego is dominant. If the person doesn’t come back, his or her id is supreme. If the person doesn’t go, he or she must be crazy. Ha!

Are you envious or are you jealous?

Let’s look at Scenario 1: your neighbor’s groovy car. If you wish you had that car — man, that’s the best car on the planet! — you might be a tad envious. Now, maybe you don’t hope that your neighbor gets a door ding that first week; that’s very big of you. But if you still wish you could have a car like that, you’re still considered envious. If you simply think that your neighbor has worked hard and deserves a beauty of a car like that, then you can admire the car all day long, and your inner you will feel ethereal. Well done.

Now for Scenario 2: the hottie partnered with your hottie. I suppose you can guess this one. If you can’t believe your bad luck (i.e., cast on left big toe during the company picnic), keep an eagle eye on the other hottie to make sure that he or she keeps hands appropriately placed during the three-legged race and secretly hope that the prerace lunch gives said hottie a case of the tummy blues before the rope makes it around the third leg, you’re jealous. If you think, “Hey, my mate lucked out; that partner is going to be lightning-fast on the field and they’re going to win the nifty award,” then you’re a well-adjusted person and could teach the rest of us a thing or two. Well done!

Happy trails!

SAK