Pet Peeve

It is very hot today and I’m feeling grouchy. Today’s blog is going to be a bit whiny.

As many of you know, I proofread reports at work. I also write poetry from time to time. I like words. I like knowing their etymology. I like playing around with them.

Seeing a copy-editor or an editor using the wrong word in a title is a pet peeve of mine(and one of the many reasons we no longer get the Lowell Sun). The title that has been annoying me is on the cover of a People magazine.

A little background: My boss brings in old People magazines for the customer waiting area next to my desk. His mom gets them and gives them to him when she is done, however, she has been in Florida and then in Canada for a while now, so we haven’t received any new magazines.

I’ve been looking at the February 22 issue for way too long. Celine Dion is on the cover. The editor chose the title “My Private Heartbreak” to emblazon in large font on the front.

Private? On the cover of People? I don’t think so.

Celine is talking about her infertility struggle, which is a very private topic for most people. She has courageously decided to share her experiences. I do hope that others who are struggling with infertility can find comfort and encouragement in her story.

I’m sure it is a heartbreak. But it is not private. Not anymore.

I would have just called it “My Heartbreak”, but I am not an editor at People. Just an annoyed word lover.

Private (adjective) 1. Belonging to, concerning, or accessible only to an individual person or a specific group. 2. Not in governmental office or employment. 3. Not publicly known; not open; secret. 4. Protected from view or disturbance by others; secluded. 5. Intended only for the use of an individual, group, or organization. 6. Not accessible by the public. 7. Secretive; reserved. 8. (US, of a room in a medical facility) Not shared with another patient.

(definition from http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/private)

Life at 50 inches

Julie is now that wonderful height where she is tall enough for all the big kid rides and not yet too tall for the kiddie rides. We went to a carnival together on Mother’s day and had a blast. I have always loved going on the rides and now I have someone who is willing to go with me. We had a bit of a happy mix up at the ticket counter and ended up with wrist bands instead of tickets. The wrist bands gave us unlimited access to all the rides except for the bumper cars.

We both agreed that there was NO WAY we were going on the Zero Gravity ride. Julie wasn’t sure about the Sea Dragon, but she bravely tried, even though some kid had thrown up earlier in the day on it. Julie wanted to try the Zipper, but I chickened out. There were some rides that Julie went on by herself, because I am no longer in the magic height zone. I got to watch her face shine as she had a blast.

She is still sweetly innocent enough that the little trucks that go around and around appeal to her. She is grown up enough for the thrill of the Tilt-A-Whirl. She still believes the games are fair and she has a chance to win the prizes. We spent too much on those games; winning her a stuffed pug puppy (water spray game), a pink and yellow snake (fishing game), and a fluffy wolf (darts).

When I was child, my family went to the Altamont Fair every year. My mother never bought us Cotton Candy. As a mother myself, I can understand why. Colored spun sugar? No nutritive value at all, just a cavity creating waste of money. As an adult with the memory of being told “No”, I did get Julie some when she asked. She is good about brushing her teeth.

Besides, she is a growing kid. Next year, she’ll probably be too tall for the kiddie rides. And she’ll probably be feeling way too grown up to want to go on them. This age of the magic height is fleeting.

We’re going to be enjoying the rides all summer long.