Face Poking Don

Ever since the Germanic chieftain Hengist—or was it his co-chieftain Horsa?—landed on the shores of Celtic Britain in 499 and uttered the first word of Old English, “Hwaet!” English spelling has been the subject of much debate and grief. As an English teacher, I can attest to the creative spelling that some students resort to in their writings. Every reader of this blog—admit it—has a spelling story lurking somewhere in the past. In the old days of writing letters in ink on paper, a certain friend always wrote to me in red in order to discourage me from correcting the spelling, which I never would have done, but even if I had, I customarily graded in green.

To a certain extent, spell check has given relief to legions of frustrated spellers. However, we all know that spill Czech dose knot catch awl eras. (Nor did grammar check flag the preceding clause, by the way.) As computer technology advances, auto-correct has added another facet—sometimes funny, sometimes frustrating—to the challenge of spelling as it anticipates the writer’s thoughts.

For instance, my nickname among family is “Donner,” as in the reindeer. Recently, I dashed off an e-mail only to realize after I had sent it, that auto-correct had signed me off as “Donned.” I am not sure why auto-correct felt compelled to announce that I was clothed, or had donned clothing according to the second usage in the American Heritage Dictionary on-line, as I sent the message. Nor were any of the first usage definitions relevant, as I have not been “Donned” (or labeled as) a Spanish man, a college tutor or professor, a mafia boss, or “an important personage.” (I do know some very nice men named “Don,” though.) Now I pay attention when I sign off, whether I have donned clothing or not.

Recently, I had another amusing episode with auto-correct. I intended to write the word “Facebooker,” as in someone who uses Facebook, in an e-mail. Auto-correct suggested “face poker” for my consideration. Had the Three Stooges or some coder with a sense of humor hacked my auto-correct? How did the word “poker” become a viable suggestion for “booker”? Couldn’t auto-correct intuit that a “face booker” might be someone who schedules appointments at salons for make-overs, and provide that suggestion, instead? Or perhaps a “face booker” might be someone who schedules head shots for models or actors? Had I been writing about playing cards, “poker face” would have made sense. But FACE POKER?!?

Of course, the obvious solution is to disable my auto-correct. However, eye be leave aye well con tin ewe two sim plea take mai chintzes. Besides, thus far, I am still a better smeller—oops, I mean speller—than auto-correct, even if auto-correct has a weird sense of humor.

NOTE: Even though spell check suggested “Facebooked” and “Face booker” as replacements for “Facebooker,” the Merriam-Webster dictionary associated with my version of Word has no definitions for those suggestions, nor does the American Heritage Dictionary. The American Heritage Dictionary on-line could not find a definition for “mai,” suggesting “mai tai,” the rum cocktail, but the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “mai” as “a slow Japanese folk or theater dance featuring hand gestures—distinguished from odori.” Again, grammar check did not flag the second sentence of the above paragraph.