Tom's Life Bits

By A.C. Snow, Correspondent
We've been told over and over, “Don't sweat the small stuff.” Today I'm sweating the small stuff.

Sweating the small stuff can be therapeutic because it momentarily takes our minds off the big stuff, such as the collapsing economy and the most rabid presidential election in history.

Today's bit of “small stuff” goes back at least 20 years, to when the late Don Blackburn was Raleigh's city traffic engineer.

New street signs were going up in Raleigh, including the one at Woman's Club Drive off Glenwood Avenue in West Raleigh.

My problem: The street sign was missing the apostrophe in “Womans Club Drive,” which I drove past daily to and from work.

I complained to Blackburn, noting that City Hall was setting a poor example for our school kids and was, as a consequence, giving ulcers to every passing English teacher. Furthermore, I pointed out, there's no such word as “Womans.”

“I'll get on it,” Blackburn promised.

Weeks went by.

I thought that perhaps the city had ordered a new supply of apostrophes but discovered that apostrophes were not as plentiful as they had once been.

Perhaps cost-cutting city managers across America had decided apostrophes weren't essential. And, as a result, the apostrophe factory had closed.

But I kept needling Blackburn until one day he snapped, “A.C., if you'll get off my back, I'll go out there today and personally paint in that dang apostrophe.”

Which he did. God was again in his Heaven and the apostrophe was in “Woman's Club Drive.” And I slept well.

Or did so until one day last fall, when I noticed a handsome new overhead street sign at the same intersection. Alas! Alack! Deja vu! The apostrophe was missing from “Womans.”

What is this thing with missing apostrophes? I thought. Are they again in limited supply? Are they all being shipped to more literate cities than our own capital?

Back to City Hall, where I eventually was referred to a personable chap who remembered me from long ago when I was harassing his boss about a missing apostrophe. He promised to get back to me after he looked into the matter.

He did. And rather promptly, I must say. But his conclusion was startling.

“I have researched that street name on the map,” he said. “The map reads 'Womans Club Drive,' with no apostrophe. Now that may not be proper English, but it is the legal name of the street and we're going to have to leave the sign the way it is.”

Just to make certain that I wasn't championing a lost cause, I called Barbara Umstead, president of the Woman's Club, to see if the club was officially pro or anti apostrophe.

To my great relief, she reported that this very reputable and generally literate organization was indeed chartered with an apostrophe.

To complicate the issue, a few feet away from the apostrophe-less overhead sign, the beautiful apostrophe personally painted in by Don Blackburn all those years ago remained on the still-standing street sign. I reasoned that in order to conform with the erroneous map spelling , the city was going to have to send someone out to remove the apostrophe from the correct spelling of “Woman's Club Drive,” so it could be officially and consistently incorrect.

So, like Poe, still pondering weak and weary over this hobgoblin of a little mind, I rode by one day and found the overhead sign missing.

A few days later, it re-appeared, with a handsome apostrophe gleaming on the overhead sign. Thank you, City Hall!

I bring this matter up because recently the City Council of Birmingham, England's second largest city, banned the use of apostrophes on municipal signs.

“I had to make the final decision on this,” Birmingham Councilor Martin Mullaney said after prolonged debate over whether “Kings Heath,” the name of a Biringtham suburb, should be re-written with an apostrophe. “We keep debating apostrophes when we have other things to do.”

Ye gods! The Mother country giving up on the Queen's English, which, when it was the King's English, was so respected around the literate world.

It's true that crusading for an apostrophe on a street sign is no giant leap for mankind. But for those among us who still care about the language, it is no small step toward preserving literacy in the eyes of the public.

Now, my latest challenge on behalf of good grammar is to tackle the management at the building in which my office is located. I wish I had been present when the lobby's restroom doors were recently repainted with “Mens” and “Womens.”