Don't mova muscle.

Is 2017 going to be my year of pet peeves on this blog? Oh, yes, it sure looks that way so far.

What's wrong with this headline?

If you said the single quotes around 'Open for Business,' you wouldn't be exactly wrong. U.S. usage insists on double quotes for quotations. But newspapers have always fought for ways to squeeze more words on the page, and this is one of their tricks. We let them pass on that. The real problem is the stationary.

Stationary means the state of being still. Stationery is froufrou paper products. A stationery store sells monogrammed paper, sealing wax, and fancy pens. A stationary store does not move around.

I see this error all the time, and it irks me. Irk, irk, irk, all day long.

The following was from an e-book I was reading, which I cannot identify since I know people who work for the publisher and it would embarrass them:

That got past at least two editors and two copy editors.

Come on, people! Even your local CVS can get this right!

I know this is one of those frustrating things, words most of us don't use every day that are almost spelled identically but mean completely different things. It's the kind of error spellcheck will not catch. How can we remember which is which?

If you notice, I provided a mnemonic in the header; mova muscle gives you the A in stationary. Then again, move would normally be spelled with an E, so maybe that mnemonic sucks. How about this?

If stationery has an E
Writing letters you will be
If stationary has an A
Surely you will sit and stay

What? Don't give me that face. I'm an editor, not an SAT coach.

Try to find something that works for you. And I'll try to find a mnemonic to remind us all that the first M in mnemonic is silent. How about:

Pneumonia has a silent P
Mnemonic has its M
Take it out upon the Greeks
Who stuck us all with 'em

Ugh. I guess I'd better not wait for that call from Khan Academy.

It's Easter in January!

No, seriously. I was in the supermarket yesterday (the first day of January, if you're keeping score) and I braced myself to see all the Valentine's Day candy in the seasonal aisle.

I was not prepared for this:

It is January 2. Easter is April 16. Three and a half months away. Have some Easter candy!

Why stop there, supermarket? Why not bring out the dadblasted Halloween candy again? Why not just bring out next year's Christmas candy RIGHT THE HELL NOW?

You know what keeps a society together? It's not the laws or the billion rules made by petty bureaucrats in distant places. It's the unspoken agreements, the things we learn in childhood, most of which come from greater rules for living, some from obvious rational thought, and some from respect that members of healthy societies have for one another.

Don't steal.

Don't lie.

Don't cheat.

Help someone out who's in trouble.

Offer a square deal.

If you throw at the batter's head, expect one of your batters to get it next time.

And don't put holiday themed candy on the shelves three and a half months out!

Haven't people always lied, cheated, put out candy too early? Yes, yes, and no. Of course we know bad behavior exists wherever there are people. But the more we weaken our commonsense rules of civility -- you may call it pushing the envelope or thinking outside the box or being independent -- the more we have to make laws and petty bureaucrat rules and even take up arms to maintain order.

Does that mean putting out Easter candy on January 1 mean chaos is just around the corner? No, but it's a symptom of the same kind of thinking that leads down that path.

Plus, it's just stupid. Anyone seriously want to tell me that a Reese's egg tastes better than a Reese's heart? Because I'm not buying it.

The other side of midnight.

2017, man.

I'm ready to give up on 2017 already. If we can be this miserable with all the blessings we have in this nation now, then I don't see what we can dream about in 2017 that will make us happier.

Seriously, what do we hope for? If we say "An end to all war and poverty and racism and unfairness" we must be hoping to die and go to heaven, because that's not how things work down here. We can't even stop fighting with members of our family or the people next door or the schmuck in line at the supermarket and we expect nations to stop fighting? Please.

Many of our problems stem from willful stupidity, and I don't see that going away next year either. Here's an example.

I noted yesterday that I didn't think the spate of celebrity passings made 2016 a particularly horrific year. For me, on that note, 2015 was much worse, as I lost nine friends. If I lived in a war zone or maybe the Villages, I could expect all those wakes and funerals, but I don't. (This year, by contrast, I had but one wake to attend.) One of the friends I buried in 2015 was a young man whose life was cut short by alcohol and drugs.

Now, how do you suppose some friends of that young man chose to pay tribute to him online the other day?

Cheers,

The world is full of idiots, and all of us can be stupid at some times about some things. Let us pray that in 2017 our lapses in judgment, which may be inevitable, will not be disastrous or cruel. 

Happy new year to you and yours. 

Death be not taking our celebrities.

Okay, everyone, let's get morbid.

Because many people are unhappy about Brexit and/or the American elections, and think we've lost a huge number of celebrities this year, and think Harambe got a raw deal, they say that 2016 was the worst year in the history of ever.

To say that this was the worst year ever is ridiculously shortsighted, and I'm not sure I know anyone who really believes it to be the case. I'm not looking to write about politics today, and I'm never going to write about Harambe, but I would like to address the case of the various celebrity deaths.

Of course we are saddened by the loss of people of genius and vision, people like Dr. Henry Heimlich (96), the inventor of the lifesaving maneuver that bears his name. (If you missed the story in May, Dr. Heimlich actually used the maneuver to save a life in person, the first time he'd ever done it.) Or men like Robert Hulseman (84), who invented the iconic red Solo cup.

As for the various stars of film, TV, sports, and music -- I really don't think much of celebrities. I can't think of a time when I did. Growing up in the post-Ball Four era, I never thought sports figures should be the subject of idolization, and they at least didn't pretend to be something they weren't for money. I always pretty much figured that even the authors I liked would have feet of clay if I looked to closely, so I haven't, not unless they've been dead for fifty or more years. But actors and musicians? I always assumed I could never talk with these people, that I was nothing more than the price of a ticket to them. I didn't think they'd like me in person and I wasn't going to imagine I'd like them or approve of their actions. It hasn't stopped me from admiring their work.

While I'm sorry if you were devoted to Prince or Bowie or Abe Vigoda, it's a plain fact that celebrity culture is killing our actual culture. No one deserves worship, not even the saints. Not even Abe.

As for the death toll, I suppose that most famous people are from the baby boomer cohort, still the largest in history although no longer the largest living. The boomers are now entering their 72nd year. Worldwide life expectancy is 71.4 years. What I'm getting at is that the huge cohort of postwar babies is going to be dying off for some time, passing through life like a cow through an anaconda. Even if 2016 was the most deadly year for celebrities (Snopes says no) it wouldn't stay that way. We're probably not even at the bulk of the famous yet -- we still have two Beatles, three Traveling Wilburys, three Monkees, and if the elder Bush and Jimmy Carter hang on, a tie for the record number of ex-presidents as of January 20.

So if you're all upset about celebrities we've lost in 2016, just wait.

On plans and needles.

O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree  
How lovely are thy branches 
O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree 
How lovely are---

OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH OUT OF THE FRIGGING HOUSE, NOW!

Whoa, harsh.

This sad ex-Christmas tree (now known as tree) was spotted in this low estate on the morning of the fourth day of Christmas. While the rest of us were all playing with our new calling birds, this family seems to have heaved Christmas to the curb.

What's the rush? I wondered. Not everyone sticks it out with their decorations through Epiphany, but before New Year's? That seems a little hurried. A lot of us may desire to return to normalcy -- see yesterday's entry on PCL, or post-Christmas letdown -- but in my experience the post-emotional-event sadness will just leave you wiped out, pining (so to speak) at the tree, not taking it to pieces in a fit of pique.

Of course, the tree could have been dying prematurely, but that doesn't seem to be the case. This was no denuded, brown zomb-tree. This tree looks so fresh you might almost try replanting it. It looks like it might want to go for a walk.

Tossing a tree with so much left to give seemed mean, wasteful, and impatient to me at first, but then it occurred to me that the family might have been going away. If you're going off to Disney for the week between Christmas and New Year's, you'd better not leave a real tree around. The National Fire Protection Association makes it sound as if a dry tree could spontaneously burst into flame and burn down your house, and I for one would not chance it.

So if you are going away for any amount of time following Christmas, your options are: 1) no tree throughout December; 2) artificial tree; 3) arrange for a tree waterer to come in, as people will with live plants; 4) toss it ASAP and skedaddle; 5) cancel your plans and stay home with your tree.

Being an adult means being able to make the hard choices. While I'm sorry to see a tree on the curb so early -- especially since I don't think the town is even picking them up until next week -- it may have been the responsible thing to do.

Farewell, O Tannenbaum! Rest and pine no more.

Post-Christmas letdown.

Are you experiencing post-Christmas letdown?

As you may know, it was the eminent psychiatrist Lucy Van Pelt who first discovered, diagnosed, and named the condition.

Maybe it will make the DSM-6.

In one of her early disquisitions on the topic, Van Pelt described post-Christmas letdown this way:

I know how you feel about all this Christmas business, getting depressed and all that. It happens to me every year. I never get what I really want. I always get a lot of stupid toys or a bicycle or clothes or something like that.

In her own case, of course, she linked her disappointment and depression for not receiving the gift of real estate.

Not getting what one hoped to or expected to receive can naturally lead to disappointment (see the work of R. Parker, "Red Ryder Dismay: The Physiological Effects of Denial, and the Ophthalmological Effects of Acquisition").

Thing is, I get rather sad after Christmas even now, and I'm not bothered by what I got or didn't get as a gift. I have not lost any dear ones in some time, deaths that leave an acutely painful space at the dinner table. I'm not one who is saddened by the holidays, although I can let myself get stressed. All I can think of that causes my blue state is what we casually refer to as an emotional hangover, a feeling of sadness or even desolation that comes at the end of any event that excites high emotion. I knew a woman who was so sad after her wedding that her beautiful island honeymoon was almost ruined.

So is this a real thing, this post-Christmas (or other emotional event) letdown?

Apparently so.

Researchers at NYU and other universities have found that strong emotion does affect memory in significant ways, notably improving memory of non-emotional events that follow emotional events. This new study doesn't say that emotional events leave one feeling sad, but there is clearly a physiological effect on the brain.

On one hand it seems silly to have to come up with a label for the sorrow we feel when something we enjoy and have looked forward to is over. On the other, post-Christmas letdown (or PCL) seems quite common, and fairly strong. As usual, I think Charles Schulz was onto something.

Since the boffins like to label everything, I think they could do worse than an official title of Post-Christmas Letdown. If that's too calendar-specific for people like my friend with the post-wedding blues, maybe Post-Event Affective Disorder, or PEAD. Not as catchy as SAD, though. In any event, it is usually over by Epiphany, so there's probably no need to prescribe anything for it. Take two gingerbread men and call me in the morning.