That Darned Apostrophe

My Dear Reader,

I try really hard to be tolerant of the grammar and punctuation mistakes of others. I really do. After all, most of those rules are fairly arbitrary and ridiculous. In fact, a vast majority of the more technical ones were made up by some guy or other in the 18th or 19th century who wanted to make English more like Latin (which is both impractical and lame). But there's a fine line between rules that are completely ridiculous and those that make a person lose credibility when used incorrectly. For example: if you say "Those oranges is excellent," people are going to ignore the nice vocablulary and wonder if you ever passed third grade. One of these blunders, one that just so happens to be on my pet peeve list, is the confusion between "its" and "it's." For example:

(Good message; bad punctuation.)

Now, I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who are going to say that there's not really that big of a difference. Maybe there isn't. Maybe it really doesn't matter. Still, messing up your apostrophes will make you look like an imbicile every time, not to mention the fact that Henry Higgins is out there somewhere howling in pain. So, in order to help those who are less punctuationally aware, I will now spell it out for you in an easy-to-remember way that just might change your life forever. Or something.

First of all, you have to understand that like every other symbol in the written language, the apostrophe means something, and the meaning is actually very simple. When you see an apostrophe, you are indicating that something has been left out. Ta da! So when you're leaving something out (like the "a" in the contraction that I just used, which would be more formally spelled "you are"), put that apostrophe in there. When there's nothing to be left out, the apostrophe does not belong. That's right; it's not to be used to pluralize things. You can just save yourself a keystroke on that one:

Okay, so there's one, and only one, exception to this rule: the possesive. You're probably thinking that there's nothing left out when I say "Cecily's hair is shiny and soft." Well, you're wrong, but that's only because you aren't well-versed in Old English.* Since you probably don't speak Old English as a primary language, we'll just skip over that and say that we do it for reasons that most people have forgotten, kind of like wearing ties.** So, it's probably easier if you just think that you do it because you're supposed to, and get on with your life. Fourth graders do it every day.

This leads me to the it's and its conundrum: which is which? When do you use what to mean who? I don't know why this isn't more clearly taught in elementary schools, though I'm sure the teachers of America are doing their best. Here's the deal: "it's" means "it is" and "its" means the possessive form of "it." "Baby, it's cold outside," is just another way to say, "Baby, it is cold outside." Something is being left out, hence the apostrophe. Now, in a sentence like, "The apothecary saw his flask, filled with its deathly poison," you're not really leaving anything out, at least, nothing that most of us are actually aware of. So the basis of it is this:

"It's" equals "it is" equals something being left out equals apostrophe.

"Its" equals the posessive "it" equals nothing left out equals no apostrophe.

Really, the only reason that there is a difference is that when you use "it's" in both places, there are problems with clarity. So to make things clear, the punctuation wizards of days past decided that "it's" should have the apostrophe since the "it is" contraction actually gets rid of a letter in Present-day English. And there you have it. Learn how to correctly use apostrophes, Gentle Reader, and you will find that you will impress people of all social and grammatical circles.

Regards, best wishes, and careful proofreading,

-Cecily Jane

*The apostrophe actually shows the loss of two letters in the possessive: "h" and "i." That's right; people used to say things like "George his sheep are in the pasture" instead of "Jojo's iPod is off the hook." I'm not sure how this was used in regard to both genders (like if they would have said "Jane her" or what); I'll have to do more research on the topic.

**It's bothered me for years, but I have no idea why guys are supposed to wear ties. I have decided that it's to hide the buttons on the dress shirt, but I have no empirical evidence.

Thank You, Mr. Spock

My Dear Reader,

I suppose that you may recall the events I described in my post entitled "Answered Prayers" about my Mr. Spock plush key chain. Well, last week the two of us have had yet another adventure together. Here's a picture of the lad so you may have a good mental image going into all of this:

You see, for some unexplained reason, there is a two-inch gap between my apartment and the set of stairs that leads to the parking garage below. You can see what I mean here:

You can also see that the gap starts only inches away from my door, the base of which is on the far left of the picture. You see, my roommates and I would always joke that one of these days we were bound to drop our keys into the abyss, but I'd never seen anything fall down there before, and I really didn't think it would happen. The chances had to be one in a million, right? Well, this is the fourth year that I've lived in this same apartment, and I suppose that I have unlocked my door about a thousand times by now.

So you guessed it, Gentle Reader: I was about to put my key into the lock when it fell out of my hand and into that very same abyss. It might as well have been going in slow motion, and I'm pretty sure that I made some feeble attempt to retrieve it before it as lost forever, which in slow motion would have looked very clumsy, and my voice would undoubtedly sound like Fezzik in The Princess Bride. But fall it did, and there was really nothing I could do about it but stare at that gap for a couple of seconds in disbelief.

And I had to wonder what possible reason could ever encourage a person to create a gap like that. Didn't they realize that the gap starts only inches away from the door, where people regularly are positioned holding small, important objects? Hmmmmmmmm??? What if my credit cards had fallen in there, or maybe my glass eye? And then I reminded myself that I had no such glass eye; that's Olivia.

Anyway, I knew at once that I had to get my keys out of that abyss at all costs, not only because of the sentimental value of the key chain, but because I would have to stand outside in the ice and snow until I had my keys in my hands once again. So I decided to try to first figure out a way to retrieve the keys, and then second find a person to assist me in this endeavor, and by that I meant a boy. I have found that they are extremely useful in situations like these because they tend to have a vast array of power tools at their disposal. (Why men who are starving college students find it requisite to acquire such costly devices remains a mystery to me, but I'm not complaining.) So I went down into the parking lot to see if there was some way to get my keys out down there, and this is what I found:

Apparently, there was a little opening down there that I hadn't noticed before, too small to crawl into, but large enough to stick my arm in it. Here's a shot that's a little closer:

So there was some hope, I guess. An small, ominous opening that seems scary beyond all reason is better than no opening at all, right?

So I went out to find men to help me on my quest, but to no avail. it was still a little earlier in the afternoon and no one was home. So I went to an apartment of some female friends of mine, who were incredibly sympathetic and offered me a wire hanger. (This, as you may have been aware, is the extent to which we women have tools of our own accord.) I returned to the little opening and got an even closer look, and to give you an idea of the horror inside of that space, here's yet another picture:

Who knows what sorts of dangers lurked inside of that thing. There might have been scorpions, or cobras. Maybe even some dead bodies left behind by the mob when a deal went sour, and for all I knew, those people were suffering from malaria before the mobsters put them out of their misery. One thing was for certain, and that was that this was going to be dangerous. If only I had Indiana Jones on speed dial!

But I didn't; I only had an apartment of friends and a wire hanger. So I tried to dig through the grossness to find my keys, but to no avail. I still didn't know where in the abyss my keys had landed, so it was going to be extremely difficult to get them if I didn't know where they were. So I went back the my friends and asked them if I could borrow a flashlight. One of my friends insisted on going back with me, completely unable to comprehend why an architect would create such an obvious flaw in their structure. I was still trying to figure out the same thing.

The funny thing is that I bought this key chain at a period of my life when I was losing my keys all the time, and I chose this particular one because I figured it was too big to get lost. And when my friend and I peered down into the abyss from the gap above, it was clear to me that I was exactly right: It took only second for us to locate my plush Mr. Spock and the keys he was the steward of.

Once we were able to gauge the distance between the opening and Mr. Spock, the rest was fairly simple. All we had to do was unwind the hanger, and plunge it into the malaria-ridden abyss, using the hook of the hanger to grab Mr. Spock and take him to safety. My friend boldly volunteered for the task, and I was very grateful that she did. She was instantly successful, and not only was I reunited with a valuable ally, but I was also able to enter my apartment again.

Thank you, Mr Spock, for being the big, plushy guy that you are. I'd be lost without you.

Regards, best wishes, and Gold Rush-era diseases,

-Cecily Jane

P.S. It later occurred to me that the opening, with its rough and jagged edges, had to have been cut out of the wall after the building was finished. My theory is that the mob had originally bribed an architect to create the gap and its abyss so they could use it to stash diseased corpses after they had chopped them into manageable pieces. One day, they accidentally threw their keys in as they were disposing of a body, and thus had to cut through the wall with a power saw. They removed the pieces of dead bodies when they realized that the abyss was now more accessible to the public and eventually the cops.

After all, it's only logical.