This past Wednesday, I decided to extend my sincerest wishes to my American friends to the south for a peaceful Inauguration Day.
I fired up my Word Press account and pecked away at the keyboard, like a barnyard chicken. At the completion of the task, I proofread my piece and hit “Publish.”
Pleased that I was able to send mental and digital ‘vibes’ of goodwill, I proceeded to go about my day, when something caught my eye.
I’m sure my sister and her family down in Ohio could have heard my best Homer Simpson impression of, “Doh!”
That would have been accompanied with the echo of my hands smacking my forehead. How could I have missed such a ridiculous typo?
You see, the opening line was supposed to read: I would like to convey my sincerest hope for a peaceful transition of power and healing for the nation of the United States.
In actuality, the ‘k’ must have decided to take its March Break early, because it read: I would lie to convey my sincerest hope for a peaceful transition of power and healing for the nation of the United States.
A bit frustrated with myself, I was glad that it had, at this point, only received a single view. I quickly grabbed the ‘k’ off the beach chair, and yes, I drank the brat’s mimosa. The AWOL letter was stuffed back in place.
Satisfied, I went into the kitchen where my grade-schoolers were munching on their cereal and contemplating yet another “delightful” day of COVID-style homeschooling.
It was about twenty minutes later that my phone ‘pinged’ an incoming message. It was from Mom and she’d noticed the missing ‘k’ and suggested I change it. Was she that one viewer? No, too early, she would have been doing her Bible reading around that time.
My head ached with another smack when I realized that I’d forgotten that my blog is set to share on Facebook and Twitter once published. She reads my posts on FB. I went to the computer, but of course, the post had been graciously retweeted and was now out in Twitterverse.
I corrected the post on FB and sent out a corrected retweet explaining that it was a typo and that I was sincere in my wishes. Of course, I knew that people are intelligent enough to realize it was a simple mistake, but it was still somewhat embarrassing.
I’ve clacked out the above sentences in the hope of producing a knowing smile on your part. I also wished to demonstrate how easy it is for the eyes and mind to be fooled. I think most of us are so accustomed to reading and writing, that our brains know how most words are spelled, so we read them that way.
You can’t always rely on spellcheck either, because it may not catch the proper context of the word. Hence the need for a second pair of eyes when you are ready to publish.
There are many words in the English language that seem completely illogical in their spelling.
Take the word ‘knife’ for instance. I could see Dalbert, quill in hand, at the dinner table, scratching out his latest poem. He gets a hankering for a piece of sourdough bread and asks “Ada, can you pass me the nife?”
Ada, being relatively modern, wants to try out an abbreviated form of a new slang word she’s just learned, and responds with, “K.”
Dalbert, who just happened to be writing an ode to his nife collection, scratches the letter ‘k’ onto the parchment. He quickly realizes his mistake, smacks his head, covering it with expensive ink. There’s nothing for it, their ink supplies are low, and he needs to sell another goat before he can buy more.
He shrugs it all off and mumbles, “There is no ‘butterfly effect’ that will come of this.”
I’ve prattled on long enough, you get my point.
Disclaimer: Any spelling or grammatical errors made in this document are entirely the fault of spell check, Word Press, or the author’s rogue fingers. The author takes no personal responsibility for any unintentional changes to the language of English that may be caused. 🙂
Mark Bierman 