By Tim Sanders

Here is another one of those grammar columns, where your humble correspondent gets goofed on hard cider and tries to explain complicated grammatical principles to actual questioners just like you. And you know, deep in the pit of your heart, that without grammatical rules you’d be unable to explain the connection between the Republican Party, global warming and excessive shedding to your family cat, who’s been looking more and more like Pennsylvania Senator Arlen Specter lately.

Q: Speaking of pits of our hearts, there’s a line in the 1966 Temptations’ hit, "Ain’t too Proud to Beg," that says "Now I’ve got a love so deep in the pit of my heart." Just exactly where is the pit of my heart, anyway?

A: Last Wednesday morning I called a doctor I know, and he explained to me that you cannot have pits in your heart. You can have pits in your stomach, but only if you are extremely careless when eating peaches or plums. Then he told me never to interrupt his golf game again.

Q: Since we’re talking about oldies, in 1961 Little Caesar and the Romans sang "those oldies but goodies reminds me of you." Is that grammatically correct?
 

A: Very astute observation. While indeed they does reminds Little Caesar of you, or somebody, the line should read "Them oldies but goodies reminds me of you all."
 

Q: I sent a note to a girl in my office. It said, "Belinda, how would you like to come up to my apartment tonight and see my electric toothbrush collection and my new Dungeons and Dragons game, which I am very proud of." She said no thank you, and told me I should never end a sentence with a proposition. I did no such thing. How did she get such an idea, anyway?

A: Since Belinda was talking to a grown man with an electric toothbrush collection and a new Dungeons and Dragons game, I’m sure what she actually said was "preposition." If you’d ended that sentence with a proposition–like, for example, "How would you like to come up to my apartment tonight, look at my electric toothbrush collection and my new Dungeons and Dragons game, and then roll around naked with me on my new shag carpet, which I am very proud of?"–she’d probably have said yes.
 

Q: I read that Martha Stewart always uses her grandmother’s stool in her garden. Is that hygienic?

A: I know nothing about her grandmother, but I don’t think I’d want to buy any strawberries from Martha.

Q: I told my boss I missed work last Monday because I went to a doctor with severe gastric problems, and he said my excuse was unclear. What did he mean by that?

A: My guess would be that your boss is not in the least concerned with your doctor’s gastric problems. I hope he left the examining room door open for ventilation when he checked you out; the doctor, I mean, not your boss.
 

Q: I’m always hearing the phrase "bird flew" on TV, but it never sounds right to me. One newscaster said "The bird flew has hit Tokyo." What kind of a sentence is that?

A: "Bird flew" is one of those phrases like "horse fly," which makes no sense if the verbal modulator is dislocated. The newscaster may have meant to say "the bird poo has hit Tokyo," and although that hardly seems newsworthy, it would have made perfectly good grammatical sense.
 

Q: Have you ever seen a horse fly?
 

A: No. I did see a cat fish, once. Unfortunately, he slipped and fell into the aquarium, and after I wrung him out, he lost his interest in fishing altogether.
 

Q: My Daddy he said when he talked to my boyfriend Darrell about Momma and him going out of town to Aunt Doreen’s this weekend he noticed Darrell was all ears. I told Daddy that was a mean thing to say, because number one Darrell is very sensitive about his last haircut, and number two Darrell is a fine human being with other parts besides ears. I have seen some of them. Daddy he said if I didn’t understand what "all ears" meant, maybe he should hire a sitter for me and my dropout boyfriend while they was gone. What does "all ears" mean?
 

A: Sometimes people say things that aren’t meant to be taken literally. "All ears" is just a stupid idiom, like "Don’t try to teach your grandma to suck eggs." Now do you understand?

Q: No, I don’t. If Daddy was to hear you talking that way about his Momma sucking eggs, he would punch you right in the mouth! And I didn’t care much for that part about Darrell being a stupid idiom, neither!
 

A: Sorry. I guess I got carried away. Your boyfriend Darrell may be a dropout genius, if that isn’t an oxymoron.

Q: I don’t know what an oxymoron is, but I don’t think I like you calling Darrell one. He is very graceful for his size.

A: An oxymoron is a term that is clearly misunderstood due to the juxtaposition of incongruous words.
 

Q: Oh ... well, Darrell never had no position in Congress, but he is clearly misunderstood.

A: There you are.

Q: What does "Never look a gift horse in the mouth" mean? Is that an idiom, too?
 

A: Yes, that is another idiom, like the one about not teaching your grandma to suck eggs. As far as I’m concerned, if you want to teach your grandmother to suck eggs, and she is interested in learning, then that is your constitutional right. Likewise with horses, although I would personally rather look a gift horse in the mouth than to lift his tail and look him in the ... well, you know what I mean. Yeah, you might get bit inspecting the front end, but at the rear you could find yourself in a real mess. Of course, I’ve never received a gift horse, so I don’t even know how they wrap them or where they put the ribbons and bows. Unless you think somebody plans to get you a Clydesdale for your birthday, I’d just forget the whole thing.

Q: What does "i.e." stand for, and can you use it in a sentence?

A: The abbreviation "i.e." stands for "Italian Explanation," which comes from the Latin phrase EYE-EEE! It specifies and explains what goes before it. It may be used in place of "that is." As for your sentence: "Old MacDonald had a farm, i.e. i.e. ... oh, have a nice plate of linguini."

Q: My English teacher said you can’t have contractions without catastrophes. My sister she had contractions for three days, and didn’t never have a single, solitary catastrophe. All she had was twins, which was both bald as jugs, but one already had a tooth. Is my English teacher crazy or what?

A: At this point, she probably is. I have a sneaking suspicion that your English teacher was referring to "apostrophes," not "catastrophes."

Q: What is the world’s longest sentence?

A: As of June 12, 2005, Mr. and Mrs. Sheldon Hackletford of Kansas City, Missouri had been married for 96 years. The sentence was imposed in 1909 by Springfield Justice of the Peace Myron Deitz.
 

I sincerely hope that this little Q-and-A session has cleared things up for you. It hasn’t done much for me, but then again I’ve had seven 12 oz. glasses of hard cider. Or maybe it’s twelve 7 oz. glasses ... I forget.