A couple of ghost stories

Rick Richards had three co-workers, in different settings, with whom he had become close friends. Each one eventually moved away, though they returned to the area occasionally, which Rick would find out after that fact. They made no effort to get in touch with him when they did.

Two continued to send a Christmas card each year. One of those was a friend as part of a group of close friends. When he’d be back for a day or two, he’d get together with one, sometimes two members of the group, but never Rick, even though Rick had known him longer than any of the others.

The other card-sender once was going to a local event that Rick might have been likely to attend. It would have made sense for the former colleague to email and ask, “Are you going to be there?” and maybe meet up for a brief face-to-face, but there was no such attempt.

The third had been a coworker in a service organization. This person never even sent Christmas cards, though Rick felt they had been even closer than he was with the two who did. When this person was back in the area, he also made no attempt to contact Rick. A couple of those visits, however, did include being at the same place at the same time as Rick. Both times, he greeted Rick like a long-lost brother but otherwise made no contact at all.

Carl Carlton had a close friendship that began when he was in college. He and this person seemed to click immediately. They not only had mutual interests, but they also brought complementary characteristics into the relationship that helped both grow.

They stayed in close touch for many years. Carl and his wife invited the friend and spouse for visits around events all enjoyed. The Carltons also arranged to stop by and see these friends a few times when traveling near their town.

Carl didn’t give it any further thought when one of those visits couldn’t happen because of the friend’s busy schedule. But later when Carl and family showed up for a scheduled visit the other couple had forgotten about, it gave him pause. In time, the other couple was too busy to visit Carl, no matter how appealing the itinerary might seem.

Communication had mostly been by phone to arrange to get together. When email came along, Carl was not able to get an address for them.

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The antagonists in my childhood nightmares were not ghosts. To me, ghosts were fanciful creatures, subjects of entertaining, even amusing stories. They were nothing like the ghosts many of us have come to know, and be haunted by, as adults.

These “ghosts” are people who suddenly disappear from your life. This definition of “ghost” officially entered the Merriam-Webster dictionary in 2017, though the term can be found in use as far back as the 1990s.
Here’s another ghost story:
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Bill Williamson was, for many years, very close to someone in his extended family. There were letters and phone calls, then also emails and, in time, conversations on Facebook around something one or the other had posted. Bill and friend visited each other’s homes, despite the miles in between. No invitation needed.

There was a family event every two years near where the relative lived. For many years, Bill and his wife would spend a couple of days at her house before or after. One year, though, the friend had other things going on and would not be able to have Bill and wife visit. Bill chalked it up to unavoidable scheduling. When the same thing happened two years later, Bill chose not to read anything in to it then, though eventually he would look back on it as the beginning of the end.

During this time, the two friends gained vacation homes, which were an easy day trip apart. There was vague talk about getting together, but nothing definite until a time when each would be at these homes and Bill said, we’ll be at our place on these dates and can come to yours on this day.

There was agreement, though Bill sensed some reluctance on the part of the other. Then just before the time arrived, he got a message with a lengthy list of all the reasons his friend couldn’t host him at that time.

It wasn’t simply saying “something’s come up” or “we’re overloaded,” maybe giving a brief example or two. It was too much like begging the question. As the list went on, the more tangential the excuses became.

The friend said maybe they could meet somewhere when things settled down a bit. (Meet “somewhere” – i.e., “not in my home.”) She said she’d be back in touch about it. Never happened. Rather abruptly, Facebook interactions stopped. The other person’s posts stopped showing up on Bill’s newsfeed, unless they were “public,” such as a new profile photo. Comments and “likes” from her on Bill’s posts went from frequent to none. Bill was still listed as a friend but wondered if he had been unfollowed.

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Individuals may naturally drift apart and mutually turn attention and affections elsewhere over time. Yet when the relationship, for whatever reason, ceases to work for one, though apparently not the other, the one who wants out may resort to what has come to be called “ghosting” — i.e., ceasing to communicate without any warning.

Most, if not all of us have done it — reached a point in some relationship where we chose, for whatever reason, just to let it drop. In a casual relationship, this ending may not be particularly troublesome for either party. In many cases, acquaintanceships come and go naturally. Yet the more you’re invested in a relationship, the more painful it can be when circumstances bring it to a close. And it can be bewildering when a two-way street becomes a one-way street that becomes a dead end.

An internet search quickly turns up a lot of material on ghosting, written by psychologists, relationship experts and others. Much of the discussion of ghosting focuses on romantic relationships, but it happens in friendships as well. There’s agreement that ghosting reflects more on the ghost than the one being ghosted. They choose an easy way to remove themselves from an uncomfortable situation. It’s not the most emotionally mature choice.

Experts also suggest that we don’t try to reconnect with someone who has ghosted us. If we do, there’s usually no response from them. It’s important to remember, however, that a lack of a tangible response is, in fact, a response.

Sometimes, the ghosting is a gradual process, starting with “soft ghosting.” They minimize contact progressively over time. Fewer and fewer emails, texts or calls. Bailing out more and more on plans to get together.

Many of us may identify with elements of the tales presented above. Ultimately, we can’t do anything about being ghosted. We can just move on from extinct relationships. We can also try not to ghost other people.

If you are ghosted, try not to take it personally. It’s their pattern of behavior. It’s not helpful for you to try to think up excuses for why they follow this pattern. We can’t control another’s actions. We do, however, control our own. Take time to be sad but then move on. Devote your energy and attention to people who value you.

It wasn’t about coffee

As I noted in a previous entry, I used to post good-grammar reminders on Facebook but stopped nearly a decade ago. Since then, I’ve avoided venting openly, despite regular fingernails-on-the-chalkboard reactions to frequent assaults on our mother tongue on Facebook and elsewhere.

I have tried to demonstrate good grammar in my FB posts and comments. When I could do so without being too obvious, I’ve slipped in a response that followed a rule of grammar violated in the original post.

For example, say the post was, “Today’s sunshine made it a nice day for Zelda and I.” After several other comments, I might enter, “It gave Nancy and me a chance to do some hiking.”

Then, in May of 2018, I came up with another way to demonstrate good grammar subtly. As with the pre-2014 posts, I had no illusions of educating anyone, and my entries most certainly were not directed at any individual. It was just a way to vent. Well, maybe I also wished it might be like hiding a pill in a piece of meat before giving it to a dog.

Unlike in an incident I described in a nother, unrelated post, I was trying to be “sneaky.” Using colorful backgrounds Facebook offers for short posts, I created a series of memes. The first read, “It’s never too late to have two cups of coffee.” There were a number of “likes” and an enjoyable discussion of the wonders of coffee.

But it wasn’t really about coffee. It was about “too,” “to” and “two.” “It’s never too late to have two cups of coffee.” These are among the homonyms that can confuse some people. This phrase showed all three used correctly.

I created the memes while having my morning coffee. So the invigorating brew was a natural subject. The next two also had coffee as a theme.

The second was “It’s time for coffee to work its magic,” demonstrating a difference between “it’s” and “its.”

(In an English-class assignment during my junior year in high school, I wrote an “it’s” that should have been an “its.” My teacher, one of the best I ever had, circled the error and wrote “Ouch!” in the margin. A teachable moment. Since then, when I see the mistake, I think “Ouch!”)

A few days later, I attacked the often confusing (for some) “you’re” vs. “your” with “Early starts can be difficult, but after a little coffee, you’re on your way.” See? You’re on your way.

In the comments, I was able to add a treatment of “they’re-their-there.” I noted, “Not too difficult, though, because I’m headed to 7 a.m. Bible study. Some don’t have coffee at home before they leave. They’re content to wait to have their first cup there at the church house.” (Italics inserted here.)

And then there’s always the apostrophe. Very useful but often misused. I had already addressed the it’s-its problem. Also troubling is that many people seem to think the letter S must always be preceded by an apostrophe.

The Carolina Hurricanes once had a goalie named Peters. In a Facebook discussion, I saw a fan insert an apostrophe before the last letter of his name. His name! More recently, on a Seinfeld-themed page, someone did the same in a reference to Michael Richards, the actor who played Kramer. “Richard’s” either means “belonging to Richard” or is a contraction of “Richard is” or, occasionally, “Richard has.”

One day I came up with a way to show the apostrophe’s proper use in a possessive and its proper absence from a plural: ” ‘Hey Jude’ was 1968’s top hit and one of the biggest for the 1960s.” It generated some discussion of music and memories associated with that song.

At another time — maybe a couple of times — I’ve posted, “If you visit the Bectons’ home, you may see two or three Bectons, and you might get to hear Daniel Becton’s music.”

I don’t know if the subliminal messages about grammar registered in anyone’s subconscious. I’m sure the number would be between zero and “pretty small.” Likely closer to zero. But in any case, thinking up the posts was fun and a worthwhile mental exercise for me.

Hold onto your hats. Chances are you’re going to see more of these nuggets later in the 2020s. They’re forming in my mind, and I won’t want them to stay there.

My like-dislike relationship with social media

Facebook is the only social medium in which I participate, unless you count group texts. I suspect that many of these thoughts, though, might apply to other forms of social media. Most do apply to group texts, as well as communication (or attempted communication) in general.

There are things I like about Facebook: being in touch with long-time friends; photos of kids, grandkids, nature, meals; inspirational posts; genuinely educational posts. I also appreciate being able to vent.

Here I want to vent about comments I don’t like to see on Facebook, whether in response to one of my posts or those of others, as well as to others’ responses. These comments fall into two categories: non sequiturs and trolling.

A common cause of a non sequitur is that the person responding didn’t really read the post (or previous comments) first. In this category are those comments that miss the point of the post. The commenter may pick up on a minor element or even a phrase not on-point and change the focus of the conversation. At the extreme are those who hijack the post, making it about them or their own agenda.

While there are “professional” trolls intruding on almost all public pages, I’m bothered more by trolling by friends. Some individuals enjoy playing “gotcha” and engaging in trash talk. At some point, though, “kidding” can become annoying, if not hurtful, because of intensity or frequency. Closely related: making the conversation into a competition and seeking to one-up the poster or another commenter.

Trolling also can include value judgments of another’s personal likes/dislikes, “witty” comments that get only halfway there, feeling a need to explain an implied joke, dedication to “yes-but” responses and proclivity for putting a negative spin on a positive post.

When typos are OK

One day recently, my list of Facebook “memories” included an ironic juxtaposition.

Four years to the day prior, I wrote, “We saw this [production of ‘My Fair Lady’] last night. Many great songs with memorable lyrics, including lines such as ‘But use proper English, you’re regarded as a freak.’ “

On that day nine years ago, I had posted, “Here’s another important anniversary celebrated today: 65 years ago today, Jackie Robinson played in his first game for the Brooklyn Dodgers.”

They may seem unrelated, but stay with me. When I entered the second post, I accidentally typed “payed” rather than “played.” One of my Facebook friends quickly trolled, “People who make fun of their friends typing should be more careful with their own.”

I tried to write it off by saying something to the effect that Robinson did pay a lot of dues for being a trailblazer. I chose not to point out the missing apostrophe — “friends’ typing” rather than “friends typing.”

But, more to the point of the jab, I don’t recall ever making fun of friends for typos or anything else. It is possible that I may have occasionally pointed out the irony created by a typo. If it came across as a personal attack, I should have worded my comment more carefully. You can be sure, though, that I stopped making such observations forthwith.

In the case of the comment alleging that I “make fun of friends’ typing,” this person presents as one who also is committed to using proper English. Because of this shared value, I once sent them an email pointing out, privately, an unintended error in a Facebook post. I knew they would want to correct it. I know I would have. I was trying to do a favor, not make fun. I stopped doing such favors.

In fact, I have commented a few times that typos on Facebook — especially if one is sending from their phone — are absolutely excusable, even expected. Social media comments are conversation, not graduate theses or legal documents.

Here’s where the “My Fair Lady” post connects. As I wrote in another blog post, I am one of those freaks who cares about proper English. At the time of the typo dig, I was being called “grammar police” and worse. This is because, even though I never corrected any individual’s grammar, I occasionally posted general comments about common grammatical errors. I stopped that practice some time in 2013.

It was a small leap from grammar to spelling for anyone who enjoys the social media version of trash talking. I, however, get more enjoyment from irony, such as an unintended twist a typo might offer or the two posts cited falling on the same date.

As one who cares about language usage

This was the offending meme, the one that was one-too-many for one of my Facebook friends.

In my early years on Facebook, I not only posted grammar-themed memes, I also crafted occasional comments of my own on the subject. My primary reason was to vent about what I saw not only on Facebook, but just about everywhere, including newspapers. I guess I also held out some hope that somebody or another would be willing to learn — or be reminded. If not, I did know there were some individuals who cared as much as I about correct use of our language. I was confident they would enjoy the posts.

I still see errors that to me are analogous to fingernails on a chalk board. But I stopped commenting some six years ago. That’s when I posted the meme above, which I thought was concise and useful. Someone who was at that time my FB friend somehow took it personally, even though I never, ever aimed any comments at an individual.

The reaction included: “I feel like we are back in HS again and you are the grammar patrol. Bet you are wearing that little belt and have red pencils in your pocket protector just waiting to make a big circle around all mistakes.” Yet I never — ever — corrected anyone on Facebook.

As I explained then, I majored in English, did a lot of writing and editing in my professional career, and have a touch of OCD. Also, I think there are good reasons for us to try to follow rules of grammar and usage. The primary reason is to keep English speakers speaking a common language so that we understand each other.

Most people don’t get angry at people who advocate for proper grammar, but many seem to find us amusing or eccentric. Yet why should trying to speak and write correctly be considered abnormal? Why isn’t it the other way around?

Why ascribe names such as “grammar patrol” or “police” or “nerd” — or worse?
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Another N word

Though World War II ended two years before I was born, people my age grew up in its shadow. “Nazi” was not a word one used flippantly. It was not something you called anyone other than historical figures who were, in fact, Nazis. You certainly didn’t give a friend that tag.

Now some, ignoring or ignorant of history, find it amusing to append it to the word “grammar.”

(On the “Seinfeld” episode about the “Soup Nazi,” the character Kramer never calls him that. A couple of years ago, we took the Real Kramer tour in NYC. The first stop was at The Soup Man — the real shop on which the episode was based — for a cup of the best soup in the world. Kenny Kramer — the real person on whom the character was based — never referred to the business’s founder as a “Nazi.” But I digress.)
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Back to the high school reference, I was not a member of any “grammar patrol.” I hadn’t worn a patrol belt since elementary school and then my duties concerned behavior, not grammar. I had no pocket protector, nor did I carry a red pencil.

I was a student, learning from my mistakes. I appreciate my teachers’ having corrected them.