I was partially raised by a grandmother who was fastidious about language. She was brilliant– excelling in math and language skills and an artist to boot. She was very keen on my having good language skills: I remember my older sister and I (or is it “me”?), who couldn’t have been more than 9 and 7 at the time, standing next to her in the den in the waning hours of a summer afternoon, receiving careful instructions as to the differences between “lay” and “lie.”
I didn’t get it At All. Transitive and intransitive what? I listened very carefully, very politely. Grandma was very earnest about this, just as she was about the Lord Jesus, and I knew I should be paying attention. I remember afterward, going to get paper and a pencil, and writing out “lay” and “lie” over and over again in my Absolutely Best Printing, and then showing it to her, proudly. I thought she would be so pleased. And I’m sure she was pleased, because she was the kind of grandmother who was pleased with me in general. But I also knew from her reaction that I Hadn’t Gotten It. Not really. No.
I don’t remember when I actually did get it. Sometime in high school, I think. It’s a tricky one, no doubt about it. Right Lynne? (That’s in case she’s reading this.) Many people don’t have it now, in their thirties, or even their forties, or Beyond. It’s Hard, and not only when it comes to distinguishing the transitive and intranstive part. The conjugations of “lay” and “lie” are downright awkward; they don’t make sense; you can get along just fine without bothering to bother, because bothering can just be so darned difficult.
And really. Does it Matter?
I try to let go of these things. I know, I know, I know. Language is a living thing. It can’t be contained. It’s used too quickly. We function with the jist of things; we create new words; we use old words in new ways; we don’t bother- and don’t need to bother- with subtle permutations of tense and transitives. We’re lucky that we are able to keep even the semblance of an inventory of it all. My sister works for Merriam Webster. She Knows.
But there are some things I just don’t understand.
Like today, for example, when Bill was talking to the phattedcalf about U2 tickets (did I say U2 tickets? Oh My Yes!), and he said– and this is my husband, the brilliant one, who has a great vocabulary and Very Nice Diction– he said, “Can I get those tickets off you?”
Pardon?
Are these tickets “on” him? Attached to him somehow? Tape, maybe, or even staples? Glue? Are they wanting to be removed? And if one had U2 tickets (U2 tickets) attached to one, would one want them removed? Ever? But I digress….
What is wrong with the good old-fashioned preposition “from”? That’s always been effective there, yes? “Can I get those tickets from you?” See? That works.
It’s not a question of difficulty here. How much harder is “from” than “off”? I ask you! The words are the same syllabic length, share some of the same letters even, transition with equal ease from the other words in the sentence. And “from” Makes Sense, whereas “off” does not.
We take things “from” things, “from” people, right? Example: I take the car from the driveway, not off the driveway. But I take the dishes off the table, not so much from the table, because the dishes are on the table more than they are to the table, if you see what I mean.
Am I right?
Yes.
I don’t understand changes in language like this, or the ones that just Sound Stupid. Like this. This one kills me: “Where are you going to?” What’s with the “to”? Can I know? It is completely unnecessary, a useless appendage that clarifies nothing. The fact that one is going implies at least the semblance of a destination. Let’s just leave it at that.
Or this: “Where is he at?” What is wrong with “Where is he?” That’s fine, just fine, All By Itself. Of course, most often that question is asked this way: “Where‘s he at?” Did you see the contraction there? That little apostrophe “s” that combines so conveniently the “where” and the “is” into one sentence so that one doesn’t exhaust oneself with saying Two Separate Words? So then WHY – praytell – if we are contracting here for convenience’ sake, to shorten things– WHY must we then add the extra word? That stupid little preposition which is supposed to show the relationship between words but has absolutely No Word to express a relationship to? (I realize the irony here. I just ended that sentence with a preposition. Leave It Alone.) The “at” is left dangling, feeling- no doubt- foolish, awkwardly folding its hands (wouldn’t you?), blushing, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze. It knows it is unnecessary. It is, moreover, ridiculous.
These are things I don’t understand.
Of course Bill’s decision to use “off” instead of “from” was not nearly so foolish or ignorant as all of that. It was just Different. A different word choice. Some residue from his days in the valleys of Western Pennsylvania. Colloquial is good. Or maybe he was just changing things up, trying to keep things interesting (as if U2 tickets– U2 tickets— aren’t interesting!). Maybe he was just Being Cool.
I am not cool.
Maybe that’s why I don’t understand.
Yes. That’s probably it.
