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That which who

By request (A request! How exciting!), here is a tutorial about “that,” “which” and “who.”

First, let’s tackle “that” vs. “who.” It is easy: Use “who” when you are referring to people, and “that” when you are referring to things. If you feel strongly about your pets, they can be “who” too.

Examples:

The man who gave me “The International” now lives in Richmond Hill.

Trish is the chicken who lives with us.

The cops shot the chimp that ripped off that lady’s face. (You could use “who” here, but I prefer not to give that level of respect to that particular chimp.)

The book that sits on my nightstand is some trashy romance novel.

Now let’s talk about “that” vs. “which,” which seems to be more difficult. THAT was the proper use of “which.” Use it only when you can use a comma before it. Otherwise, use “that.” In other words, “that” is a crucial part of the sentence and describes a particular kind of thing, and “which” begins a clause that could be thrown out if necessary.

Examples:

Heidi and John held a New Year’s Eve party that resulted in a five-alarm fire.

Heidi and John’s New Year’s Eve party, which resulted in a five-alarm fire, was the talk of the neighborhood.

See the difference? Many academics don’t. Now you are smarter than a 20th grader.

Hating on “&”

One of the cardinal rules of AP Style (and many other styles, in fact) is that writers should never use “&” in place of “and” unless the ampersand is part of the proper name. For example, “Savannah International Trade & Convention Center” is the proper name. Despite what many write, SCAD’s proper, trademarked name is “Savannah College of Art and Design.” No ampersand. Ever.

Savannah Morning News reporter Arek Sarkissian II has decided, however, that the ampersand works just fine in the college’s name in his cover story on the SCAD student’s death. As a writer who should be using AP Style, he should know better. And was the copy editor asleep?

Yes, I know there are bigger things I should be worrying about, such as the poor student’s family and friends, and what exactly happened anyway. But I don’t know him, them or the circumstances, although it is a very sad story.

I do know AP Style, though. And this blog is devoted to grammar and style. And chickens, of course.

The grammarian is back

It’s been a while since I’ve tackled a grammar issue, so here is a big one: when to use “I” and “me.”

I had to stop reading one friend’s blog because she misused “I” so many times.

Here’s the deal: “I” is a subject pronoun and “me” is an object pronoun. So, “You and I should go Christmas shopping” because “you and I” are subjects doing something. And, “Santa hit on you and me” because Santa is doing something to us.

It is not OK, ever, to say “Santa gave his number to you and I.”

Need a hint? Take out the other pronoun and see if it works. “Santa gave his number to I” is not correct.

And it is always “between you and me,” no matter what you hear in songs such as Jessica Simpson’s “Between you and I” — not that you are really listening to that, of course.

The birthday week

Hello Blog. It has been a while.

I’ve been busy — a good kind of busy. I’ve been enjoying my first “birthday week.”

It is a concept that Trish introduced to us. It sounds silly and self-centered until you realize that some people have had historically terrible birthdays, and need to get some make-up action later in life. Trish’s stepmother is a Jehovah’s Witness, which means Trish’s family does not celebrate holidays such as Christmas, Easter and birthdays because of their alleged pagan origins. But Trish is on her own now. Enter the birthday week.

My birthday is 10 days before Christmas, and therefore sucks. I never had a birthday party (waaa!) because my parents were not party people, and because all my friends were always off visiting family or whatever.

So Eddie decided this year to take a cue from Trish and make up for past craptastic birthdays.

The birthday week began Thursday with teasers of the week to come. Friday consisted of beer at the Distillery, a massage, wine tasting at the Shannon Vineyards outpost, dinner at Vic’s, and an overnight stay at AVIA. Fantastic!

Room at the inn (AVIA)

Room with a view

Saturday began with a huge breakfast. Lox, cream cheese and capers on a bagel! Shrimp and grits! Fresh fruit!

Breakfast at AVIA

A morning gorge? Don't mind if I do!

After some Christmas shopping and the movie “Precious,” we came home to Trish, Ed and the boys singing “Happy Birthday” around a cake they made. That was my first cake in years and years (waaa! again). John and Heidi arrived a few minutes later for game night, and there was much rejoicing.

I can’t wait to see what else is in store. Thanks, Eddie. It’s the best birthday ever!

Reality TV love affair

I’ve been so slack. Unwatched on our DVR right now: the second seasons of “Tough Love” and “Tool Academy.” How could I have been so lax? That darn dissertation proposal has kept me from my regular dosage of trashy reality TV.

I did catch “Hoarders” last night, though. You may remember that one of the graduate students in my Persuasive Writing wrote a paper trying to convince me to stop watching “Hoarders.” The argument: The people need help instead of a starring role in gawker TV. So I should stop providing an audience.

Fat chance, Elisa.

If a woman is going to reveal to the nation that she has been living in four-foot-high stacks of used adult diapers because her plumbing has been broken for two years, then I’m going to watch (in horror, of course). Goats ate the back wall of a house to get at the trash inside? Let me get my popcorn.

House of Hoarders

In exchange for letting us gasp at their lives, the hoarders do get help from the show. Yes, it may be limited and come at a price, but it is more than they had before. And I think the show is raising a consciousness that some “pack rats” may actually have a bigger problem.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some TV to watch — while I clean out that hall closet …

Cannibalism in action

Not only does Reggie not care that Trish has been hanging out with him on the front porch, but he lets her eat his food. This was the scene this morning:

Don't eat that!

However, that cat food is probably made of … chicken. Gross.

A little Chicken Little

What is the DEAL with folks in Savannah? People are acting like there has never been a strong storm before. Closing school? SERIOUSLY? Now, the school my kids attend has a bunch of trailers, so I can kind of see their point in that case. But pretty much all schools have been closed since noon and it is just now starting to rain in the ‘Ham.

"The sky is falling!"

"The sky is falling!"

Yes, there is a tornado WATCH in effect.

Yes, there will be strong winds, heavy rain and the potential for flooding in low-lying areas.

But that is every afternoon in the summer, no?

In fact, the radar picture looks very similar to stuff we see all the time.

I’m not particularly worried, and I’m a meteorologist. I also play one on TV!

Panic + resolve

My dissertation proposal was due today, the day of my self-imposed deadline. However, I sent it to my committee chair on Wednesday for feedback. I don’t want to work on it anymore until I get that feedback. I really don’t want to work on it anymore, period, but that’s not possible.

This is what my dining room table looked like the day I stopped working on the proposal:

Dining room table/work space/Hell on Earth

I switched gears yesterday from eating everything in sight to rereading everything on my theory reading list.

That list includes “Mass Communication Theory,” which is a struggle. Also on the list:

Herbert Gans, “Deciding What’s News”
Todd Gitlin, “The Whole World is Watching”
Edward Epstein, “News from Nowhere”
David Manning White, “The ‘Gatekeeper'”
Ben Bagdikian, “The Media Monopoly”
Elisabeth Noelle-Neumann, “Return to the Concept of Powerful Mass Media”

All of this is in preparation for the start of the comprehensive exams tomorrow. From Tuesday to Friday, for three hours a day, I will be holed up at the library at University of South Carolina-Beaufort (South campus) writing my little heart out. If (when?) I pass and successfully defend my proposal, I will be A.B.D. That stands for “all but dissertation,” but it might as well stand for “all but dead.”

Whine and cheese

Can I please whine for a moment? I’m exhausted and my back is killing me. We had 19 people for Thanksgiving yesterday — an interesting mixture of friends, family and acquaintances, and the most we’ve ever hosted for a meal. Every year, Eddie handles the turkey, and I take care of everything else (including my Brussels sprouts!). This year, Trish the Human was kind enough to take over macaroni and cheese duty, along with adding a lovely sweet, sweet potato souffle (others brought an assortment of desserts and drinks — yum!). And Trish the Chicken amused everyone by knocking on the front door during our enjoyment of her fowl-weather friend.

We gave the boys’ bedrooms to some family members spending the night, and I took the boys into our room to sleep. Because I had to work at the station this morning, I went to bed at the same time they did. Gideon is the worst sleeper, though. He made noise, kicked and pushed all night.

So thanks to Gideon and the stress of the feast-making process, I am dragging today. DRAGGING.

However, I am always entertained on my drive in to the station on Black Friday, because I can marvel at the people standing in line at Best Buy. There is nothing in there that would be worth it to me to camp out. It’s not like camping out for KISS concert tickets or something.

Anyway, this is me this morning, doing my thing on the green screen.

The magic of television

And here I am with Lyndy Brannen on The Morning Show set.

With Lyndy on set

With Lyndy on set

When we’re not on the air, Lyndy likes to talk about rednecks and politics, and how he thinks it is stupid to recycle. He’s usually got some cockamamie mantra, such as this one from yesterday: “Reagan saved the world.” I have no idea what he really believes, but I believe he likes to say things that will get people riled up.

And I also believe I need a nap.

Hands near flushing hold

I guess this sign is supposed to tell folks that the faucet is on a sensor, but it makes no sense as written. It’s funny, though. I took this image somewhere in Shanghai last year.

My reaction to the photo is similar to what I’m doing today: trying to make sense out of the vast amount of communication research that deals with media ethics and the journalistic decision-making process.

Or it could be a reminder that my life is flushing down the dissertation toilet.

Sigh.