I’m not sure my early experiences of working life are duplicated nowadays. But many a person who learned any trade will recognise the instruction methods.
Part of the route to becoming a linotype operator in a hot metal newspaper caseroom, my ambition in my teens, was learning to use the language to a professional standard.
It is a vastly more exacting process than merely being able to read.
You had to know when, or if, ounces should be shortened to “oz”, if Alsatians always get a capital A, the difference between naught and nought. And acres more. There are as many ways to make mistakes as there are words.
Did I enjoy the learning process? Heavens no!
It was a painstaking path strewn with intentionally placed pitfalls. And I was taught by men of uncertain temper, and even less certain standards of sobriety, in an industrial setting full of inky noise, molten lead, and hard work to be done at extreme speed.
These “teachers” loved to point out mistakes. I was informed on many an occasion that I was a hopeless case not fit for my chosen profession, and so mentally deficient I’d never be able for the job.
I was strongly advised I was better suited to shovelling . . . I think you can finish that sentence.
My more spectacular mistakes were rewarded with a “clip round the ear”. Another description would be “punch in the face”.
All apprentices were given this treatment. I’m not sure the model is still used to instruct young workers: you’d need to check with your HR department.
But the idea that mistakes in print were not tolerated was driven in to even my thick skull.
It has been brought to my attention there was a large sign put up at Ninewells Hospital pointing the way to the Tanis Drummond Lecture Theatre. Except it didn’t say theatre, it said “threatre”.
I don’t blame anyone at Ninewells. I’m sure they quickly grew tired of the extra R being pointed out. It is an error which should have been spotted long before the sign was erected.
Similarly, I saw a park bench dedication using “who’s” when it should have said “whose”.
And there are many photos (on this internet thing people talk of) that show a gravestone dedicated to: “The best of mother’s”.
Before you point it out to holier-than-thou me, I fully admit there are sometimes mistakes in newspapers.
And I know the methods of instruction I underwent would not be acceptable today.
But I know how to spell “theatre”.
Word of the week
Preternatural (adj)
Exceptional, beyond or surpassing what is natural. EG: “Finan’s preternatural word-smithing skills were rather well hidden in his callow days as an apprentice compositor.”
Read the latest Oh my word! every Saturday in The Courier. Contact me at sfinan@dctmedia.co.uk
