Fun with trademarks!

In the editing business, one perennial bugaboo is the issue of trademarks. Trademarks, and their kid brothers service marks, are intellectual property and should be capitalized. They include Budweiser, Marlboro, Green Mountain, Apple, Yankee Candle, Walt Disney World, Colt .38 Super, Chantix, and so on and so forth. If they appear in print or online, in nonfiction or fiction, they need to be capped. Unless they are out of context. Or dead.

Apple, of course, when referring to the computer company, is a trademark. But just because they own that trademark doesn't mean that you need to cap apples. Unless the apples HAS a trademarked name! For example, the names Honeycrisp and Gala were at least at one time trademarked for apples, so although their status is not clear at the moment, they are usually capped. The McIntosh is not a trademark, but is the name of the man who discovered the apple, so is also capped.

Elsewhere on the food front, cheeses are often capped because they are named after a place, like Camembert and Brie. But sometimes they are trademarked, like sorta-cheese Velveeta. And sometimes it doesn't matter. There is a place called Cheddar, a British village, but their cheese went out and conquered the world, so it is no longer associated strongly with that place and generally not capped anymore. Although it is sometimes. But that's not a trademark issue. It's house style issue. (Every publisher has long lists of house style peculiarities and preferences for the sake of internal consistency.)

Artificial substances can be very frustrating. Latex? Not a trademark. Nylon? Dead trademark. Spandex? Not a trademark. Neoprene? Not a trademark. Rayon? Not a trademark. Nitrile? Not a trademark.

Aha! No synthetic materials are trademarked!

Tyvek? Trademark. Dacron? Trademark. Tencel? Trademark.

We just have to look up crap like this all the time.

If you're in the field -- like, a communications executive for a cheese company -- you may eventually know the status of every cheese name there is off the top of your head. But then you'll run into something like Kobe beef and you're off to the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office site. (For the record, the K in Kobe beef is capped as a place name, but Certified Kobe Beef is a trademark in its entirety, and there are lots of other trademarks connected to the famous meat, but many are dead.)

Companies often fight like hell to make sure their trademarks are identified as such, because if they get used as ordinary nouns, or verbs, guess what? The USPTO kills the trademark. That's what happened to aspirin, corn flakes, linoleum, and yo-yos. So Xerox, Kleenex, and all those other common trademarks are jealously guarded, because the act of guarding them keeps them alive. If the company won't fight for it, it must not matter, right? And this is why humorless letters are sent from company law departments when they see acts of infringement.

Xerox used to have a bigger problem protecting its name before computer files made hard copies less important, and I suspect Kleenex as a trademark is actually made safer by the loss of market share to competitors like Puffs, Northern, and Scotties. People are less likely to just "grab a Kleenex" now than they were forty years ago.

I see a lot of trademarks that people mistakenly forget are trademarks. Some common violations include:

• Munchkin (for doughnut-related products)
• Solo (cups)
• Crock-Pot (say slow cooker)
• Rice Krispies (especially as Rice Krispies Treats)
• Ping-Pong (yes, the game; call it table tennis)
• Popsicle (Unilever owns it so don't listen to people who call it generic)
• Baggies (still owned by Reynolds Wrap, although the actual product line seems to be discontinued)
• Marshmallow Fluff

Hell yeah, they're still making this stuff

On the other hand, some well-known trademarks have lost their status. You may now lowercase dumpster, thermos, and windbreaker in peace.

Google is being stupid about theirs, I think. It comes up constantly as a verb, to the point where most publishers I work with have thrown up their hands and said, "All right, if the people want to say they'll 'google' stuff, leave it lowercase." Google may think that this means free publicity, and that they don't care because they have more money than God, but the Trademark Office is as picky as a copy editor in a bad mood -- if they don't try to protect the name "Google," people will start infringing it with impunity, and they'll be powerless to stop it. Or maybe they've anticipated that, which is why they changed the main company name to Alphabet. I have no idea what they're thinking out there.

The protection of trademarks makes the development of innovative products profitable, which is an economic good for all of us. So that's why we editors do our bit to protect the live trademarks. Also, we hate getting letters from attorneys. Does anybody like getting them?

Fred's Book Club: Comma-tose.

Good day! Welcome to our second edition of Fred's Book Club, also known as the Humpback Writers, because we do this on Wednesday, not because any of them were actually Quasimodo. In fact, since I've never gotten through any Victor Hugo, we're never going to deal with Quasimodo.

This week's book is Lapsing Into a Comma: A Curmudgeon's Guide to the Many Things That Can Go Wrong in Print--and How to Avoid Them, by Bill Walsh.

As the cover notes, Bill Walsh was the copy desk chief for the business desk of the Washington Post, but I came to find him through his blog, The Slot: A Spot for Copy Editors. Lapsing was his first book, largely a compilation of information from his many years in the business, and he wrote two others on the same topic. Amazon reminds me that I bought my copy of this book in 2001, so that's how far back I went with his blog. Oddly enough, at the time I was working purely as a researcher, not as a copy cat.

Walsh's book is not, of course, a comprehensive grammar book that covers every conceivable situation. That would require a tremendous book, even bigger than the bible of the biz, the Chicago Manual of Style (although being a newspaperman, Walsh instead relied on The Associated Press Stylebook). What his book seeks to be is, in his words:

a usage manual for all writers and copy editors. While my experience is specifically as a newspaper copy editor, in a way all literate people are copy editors, whether they be writers rewriting their own work or simply avid readers noticing a typo on a cereal box.

Here are some terrific curmudgeonly tips he shares with the reader:

• Avoid identifying people as Lawrence "Larry" Horn or Robert "Bob" Smith. Pick Lawrence or Larry, Robert or Bob. Let the full reference stand with quotes on a nickname that's not just a diminutive (Carmine "The Big Ragoo" Ragusa) or one that bears no relation to the real name (William "Scott" Jones).
  
• A person with a law degree is a lawyer. A person who acts on behalf of another person is that person's attorney.... Attorney is to lawyer as rescuer is to lifeguard (hope you got that one right on the SAT). Lawyers and lifeguards fill these roles as an occupation, but lawyers don't necessarily have clients and lifeguards don't necessarily perform any rescues.
  
• HIT MAN Two words, pronounced "HIT MAN," if you're referring to a hired killer. One word, pronounced "HITman," if anybody is unfortunate enough to that it for a last name ("We've been invited to the Hitmans' for dinner!").
  
• RBI, RBIs  The style of many a sports page is to make RBI the plural of RBI: He had three RBI. Three RBI? Is that like three POW? It's silly, if well intentioned, to try to apply this kind of internal logic once you've switched from a spelled-out term to an initialism. The plural of an initialism is the initialism plus s.
  
• ROOMMATE Two m's, unless you ate a room or mated with a roo.

The sad thing about all this is that Walsh died in 2017, at the age of 55. after a tough fight with cancer. He seemed to be remembered fondly by everyone who knew him; based on his blog, the guy had a terrific sense of humor that didn't desert him through all the ups and downs of cancer treatment. I can say that one time I e-mailed him to ask if "in box" should have a hyphen or not, and he wrote back quickly to admit it hadn't come up so he didn't have a ruling on that. Webster's abridged has added it since, as in-box, so now we know.

Most copy editors are pleasant people. Some may be angry and some may have no discernible sense of humor, and some may come across as garden-variety dodos, but I have known a score of people dedicated to the craft, and have only known one who was total grade-A jerk. All the others I was happy to work with, to be friends with, and to remain friends with, even if most are people who agree with me about virtually nothing. But we agree that the semicolon goes outside the close quotes, that irregardless is an abomination, that Merriam-Webster is an important guide but has begun to play too fast and loose with the rules. On these crucial matters, we are in solidarity.

Bill Walsh struck me as that kind of man, one with a clear head for the language and a great sense of humor. In a time of magazines and newspaper failures -- not just of finances but of geniality, reason, and humor -- we need more Bill Walshes. Lapsing into a Comma is always in reach on my desk. I recommend it.

Figures.

No matter where Jerry landed, somehow Phil, the most annoying guy in the flock, wound up right next to him.

No labor today.

Yes, I'm posting my photo of a hardworking laborer again for Labor Day.

You relax, kid; it's a holiday. I'm less concerned with people not working as to what happens when we do:

Regarding this meme that was making the rounds:

1) I'm afraid that Amy Winehouse is not a role model, someone from whom people ought to take advice, especially when it comes to screwing things up;

2) No one wants to hear "Oopsy!" and "That's why pencils have erasers" out of his brain surgeon, bridge engineer, pilot, or plumber;

3) I have had to swallow my pride and admit to many mistakes in my career, but I have never been cavalier about it, as this little meme would encourage me to be;

4) People who post this kind of thing want their mistakes to be overlooked, not to announce that they're hereby overlooking the mistakes of others.

Just my thoughts for the day; yours are welcome. Short dose of Vitamin Fred today; too lazy to do more.

😴

Care for a little beverage?

With the long Labor Day weekend, and gorgeous weather in the Tri-State Area, I'm sure many beverages of various types will be popped open and consumed. Well, the same is true here at Vitamin Fred, although possibly not the kind that normal people are drinking.

Last week I wrote about my quest for a strong ginger beer, one that could clear the sinuses, and I think I found one. Q Mixers makes the high-priced beverage above, specifically for making drinks like Moscow Mules. Here's how they describe their ginger beer:

"Other ginger beers try to be both a spicy soda and a mixer. So they end up doing neither well. Q Ginger Beer is a mixer and a mixer only – it is spicier, more carbonated and less sweet. It is exactly what your vodka, rum, or whiskey is looking for."

 It comes in a four-pack of 7-oz. bottles, so you're really getting a little drink if you're not using it with booze to make a big drink. However, it has the burn I was looking for, the heat in the back of the throat that tells you it is a ginger beer that is done fooling around and is here to drop the hammer. The dopey non-GMO butterfly on the box kind of undermines the badassery, and no doubt adds two bucks to the price, but as I have been looking for a ginger beer strong enough to clear my sinus headaches, I don't care. Now I have to wait until I get a sinus headache to measure its medicinal power, but with autumn on the way that won't take long.

Q Mixers also makes an elderflower tonic water, which I expect is low on the badass scale, but if I ever see it I have to try that too.

On the other end of the li'l drinkie spectrum is Nature's Promise, the all-natural house brand for Giant and Stop and Shop stores, which to my surprise is selling seltzer to children.

Aren't these little cans just adorbs? Squee!

I like seltzer, including the flavored ones that have become popular, but I never expected to see it marketed to kids. It comes in a variety of flavors, but Bubble Gum seemed the most childlike to me, so I had to buy it.

Verdict: It's good. Yes, it's a bit odd to drink bubble gum flavoring, but the flavor is the real thing. My wife said it was just like the Bazooka gum she remembers chewing, which always seemed to make the gum flavor go up into her nose. I think I know what she meant. It reminded me of that gum that came with Topps cards until 1992. No surprise, actually, since Topps makes Bazooka. (It did get me wondering if a ginger beer chewing gum was what I need for sinus-clearing....)

I'm not sure if the kiddie seltzer will appeal to children, but if it gets them drinking water and not soda or juice, that's probably for the better. Save the teeth for the Bazooka.

So those are the peewee potables I'm enjoying this Labor Day weekend; how about you?

Meanwhile, on Earth-70912...

"Clark, you know we're so proud to have raised you as our own, and we're so happy you want to use your superpowers
to help your adopted planet. But what your mother is trying to say is... the secret identity idea isn't working out."

The big weekend starts.

The chorus of moaning and wailing as New York kids go into the Last Weekend of Summer is almost deafening, but I shall try to work through the distraction.

As a matter of fact, I've been called on to work over the weekend, so I don't think I'm going to be enjoying it much myself. If I were getting time and a half or double time, I suppose I wouldn't mind so much. Ah, well, the life of the freelance editor...

Of course, in my first blush of youth it wasn't just school that started after Labor Day weekend. Everything started. The three networks -- and I suppose PBS, if you were some damn hippie -- began all their new shows, and there were new episodes of returning series. There was none of this staggered start stuff, where a few would begin in October and maybe even later. Hell, the least popular shows would be gone by Halloween.

New cars also appeared like magic, September being (at least to my kid eyes, seeing car commercials) when every car manufacturer released its new automobiles for the model year. That too no longer appears to be a hard and fast rule. Some come out earlier, some in the spring... was it always like this?

In a way, Labor Day was New Year's II: The Sequel, and in some ways even better. For a student, you were mired in the school year on January 1, so there was no point in vowing to do better. When you started a new grade in September, that's when you would be vowing to do better. Of course, like a bad TV show, that vow would also be gone by Halloween.

Another way Labor Day was better than New Year's was the weather. Coming off the summer heat and humidity in New York was almost like being released from a jail made of hot Jell-O. The very molecules of your body seemed to be free to move again, and move fast, especially if your back-to-school wardrobe included cool new sneakers.

And there were no new Saturday morning cartoons on New Year's Day.

Maybe the best part of Labor Day for a kid is that you have all the best holidays coming up in the next few months -- Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. At New Year's, they're all behind you, and you face a long slog just to get to adult-type holidays (MLK Day, Presidents Day, Valentine's [yuck!] Day)....

I'm glad that the actual calendar year starts in January for other reasons, but Labor Day is an excellent time to take stock and get busy. And isn't that what fresh starts are all about?