Me, myself, and why

One of the most common errors in spoken English is the incorrect use of the word “myself.” It’s often that I hear someone say something along the lines of:

“They asked my husband and myself to come to dinner.”

This error typically occurs because people don’t know whether they should use “me” or “I” in a statement. To avoid sounding ignorant, they often substitute the word “myself,” hoping that it is at least close to correct. But they couldn’t be more wrong. Myself is a reflexive pronoun, and a reflexive pronoun is always preceded by the noun to which it refers (its antecedent). “Myself” should only be used when “I” is the subject of a sentence. For example, you would say:

“I am buying myself a Cabrio.”

So, we can see why the first example is incorrect. And it’s really not that hard to fix. The confusion arises because we’re dealing with a compound object (“my husband and I/me/myself”), and that makes it a bit more difficult to determine the pronoun we want to use. But there’s an incredibly easy trick to figure out which one we should use. Simply remove “my husband” from the sentence. It then becomes quite clear that the pronoun we’re looking for is “me.”

I think another reason that “myself” has been subjected to so much misuse is because people think “me” is somehow a lesser pronoun or that people who use it are uneducated. Maybe this is because we’ve all heard people use it incorrectly (“Me and her are going bowling.”) and died a little on the inside. However, “me” has a definite place in English, one that cannot be assumed by another pronoun. And you’ll come off sounding ignorant and pretentious if you replace it with “myself.”

When used incorrectly, “myself” is incredibly grating to the ears of anyone who loves the English language. Of course, I understand that sometimes the mouth moves faster than the brain, and it’s easy to misplace an “I” for a “me” or a “me” for an “I” when dealing with complex sentences. Strangely, that doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the incorrect use of “myself” because, honestly, there’s no excuse. If you’re not doing something to yourself, there’s no place for “myself” in a sentence. So just think before you use it.

You guys, I'm so serial

Well, I’m finally back. When I decided to write this entry about serial commas, I thought it would be no problem at all. There are some elements of English about which I am especially passionate, and the use of serial commas is one of them. But when I sat down to write it, and I sat down to write it about five different times, I simply didn’t know what to say. Should I be coming at it as a cheerleader or a grammarian? Should I encourage people to use the serial comma or, if they decide they don’t like it, tell them how to omit it properly? This internal struggle resulted in four worthless drafts. So, I’ve determined that there’s really only one way to get this out: a total brain dump. It may not end up being any better than the trash I wrote over the past few weeks, but at least I’ll get it all out.

When I was growing up, I was taught certain rules about the way English worked, rules that many people now find obsolete. But there is one that really stuck with me: in a list of three or more items, commas should be used to separate each element from the others. The serial comma, also know as the Harvard or Oxford comma, is the final one in the list—the comma that directly precedes the conjunction. I love this little comma for a few important reasons. To start, using it can reduce ambiguity. Consider the following example from The New York Times:

“By train, plane and sedan chair, Peter Ustinov retraces a journey made by Mark Twain a century ago. The highlights of his global tour include encounters with Nelson Mandela, an 800-year-old demi god and a dildo collector.”

By omitting the serial comma in the second sentence, the sentence becomes unclear. Are we looking at a list here or a description? While I admit that nearly everyone reading The New York Times knows exactly who Nelson Mandela is, that sentence simply doesn’t work. Plus, it just looks so clunky and awful, doesn’t it?

That brings me to my second point, which is that using the serial comma makes a sentence prettier and easier to read, even if leaving it out doesn’t introduce any problems. Look at the first sentence in the example above. To me, it seems strange to leave off the serial comma in the beginning clause when you know you’ll have to put one after “chair.” I can’t help but think that sentence looks unbalanced. The real point of punctuation is to guide the reader through written text, showing him where to stop, what’s describing whom, emphasizing importance, and so much more than I can begin to cover. Punctuation wasn’t invented so some of us could show off and make ourselves look smarter than those around us. It was designed to help us. When I read a list and don’t see that last comma, it doesn’t exactly make me foam at the mouth and have a seizure. Not exactly. But it leaves me feeling that the sentence isn’t complete, that somehow it isn’t rounded out, that I’ve been cheated out of a little something.

In my work, I often have to omit serial commas for style reasons. I grudgingly accept this because advertising and literature are different worlds. In my work, The AP Stylebook tends to be king. Like most style manuals for newspapers and magazines, The AP Stylebook discourages the use of serial commas except when leaving them out creates ambiguity. This sort of style was designed to be simple and was meant to be used when working in media that allow for limited space. If you work somewhere that forbids serial commas, leave them off. But know that they aren’t wrong. In fact, for centuries, they were used as helpful guides to show the way forward. Especially when sentences are complex, the serial comma helps us make sense of things.

The evils of business speak

Those of us who have worked in offices have all heard it. It's that faux-lofty, pretentious way our managers and superiors (and sometimes peers, those traitors) talk when describing everything from business scenarios to what they've had for lunch. We call it business speak. If somehow you don't know what I'm talking about, count yourself lucky and stop reading. I wouldn't want to introduce you to something so inherently wicked.

Ever heard someone say he needs to get "buy-in" on an idea? Well, that just means he's looking for people to support or commit to it. Do you ever hear that one of your colleagues is such a stud because he's a "big-picture thinker?" I'm pretty sure that just translates to sitting in an office thinking up ideas while other people make sure his work is covered and correct.

The worst examples of business speak involve words that, while real, are used in ways they were never intended. Have you heard someone use "impact," "leverage," or "dialogue" as verbs (e.g., "Bob, you need to leverage your ability to dialogue with others in order to impact as more assertive.")? That's because many people mistakenly think that using big, fancy-sounding words and jargon make them look smarter and more self-assured. I find, however, that people who use business speak often sound confused and ambiguous. "Around" often falls prey to misuse as well, and by some of the smarter people I've met during my working career. In the business world, it's common to hear people say that they want to discuss topics "around" a certain issue. What they mean is that they want to talk about something. It seems to me that talking "around" something means not mentioning it at all.

The moral of this post is that we, as the correct usage champions of the world, need to avoid using words in ways they should not be. And we need to discourage new nonsensical words from being introduced into the business lexicon. I don't expect you to be a jerk about it, but I do hope you won't fall into the trap of adopting this nonlanguage. Also, who knows? Your refusal to conform to business speak may encourage those around you to use English as it was intended. Just say what you mean (within reason, since you're still at work), and, at the very least, you won't be adding to the mess.

Welcome

Every day, I hear or read many things that make me cringe. I'll admit that I've always been a grammar snob, so it's something I've gotten used to over the years. But getting used to it doesn't make the pain go away or even dull it. If you're reading this, you're likely a grammar fan, too. Or possibly a friend showing pity on me. So, I've decided now is the time to start airing grievances and asking you to share your pet peeves with me. Who knows? We might educate some people. We might provoke some insightful conversations. Or we might simply have a place to complain--a bitching post, if you'll come with me on this one. No grammar-relevant topic is off limits. In fact, feel free to point out when I've done something that violates your ideal set of rules. My skin is thick, and I can take it. If I agree with you, I'll happily admit I'm wrong. The more interesting result, however, might be an all-out grammar brawl. And I'm fine with that, too.