Making Some Bold Moves

Words in bold attract the reader’s eye. Which word stood out in the previous sentence? The fourth one, of course. It’s darker than the others; it’s in a thicker, heavier typeface.

Bold type is often used for keywords, such as the entries in a dictionary, because it makes certain elements pop. When the bold is put on hold, When Write Is Wrong pops up.

It’s unfortunate that someone didn’t brush this newspaper section with a few more bold keystrokes. Nichole and Clinton have lost their bold builds.

Our first professional objective should be to turn Nichole’s “Career Goal” into a “Career Goal.” Next, we should enter the Dark Ages. Well, no, but we should darken Clinton’s “Age.” His “GPA,” too.

A DEEP Cut

Sexually active, responsible teens use it.

Bodyguards provide it to presidents, celebrities and other public figures.

Insurance offers it against, say, fire or flooding.

Hard hats give it to construction workers.

The paragraph at right lacks it.

What is it?

You can figure it out. Dig. 

Keep digging. It’s a DEEP hole.

This paragraph, like a quarterback who is sacked repeatedly, has no Protection.

If you live outside of Connecticut, you’re probably unfamiliar with DEEP. Your location shouldn’t preclude the recognition that DEEP is the abbreviated form of four words (disregarding small articles, prepositions and conjunctions). The Department of Energy and Environmental Protection, established in 2011, aims to control pollution, conserve natural resources and manage the state’s parks and forests.

The department’s p-word was MIA, which stands for missing in.

My apologies. MIA is an action-packed acronym. Omitting the last word has an impact.

A deep one.

Righting a Check

Lordy, lordy, look who’s turning forty … into an imaginary number and imaginary word, simultaneously. In “The Little Jerry,” a Seinfeld episode that aired in the sitcom’s eighth season, the eponymous star bounced a check — one festooned with a clown holding balloons — at a local bodega. Big Jerry made a little mistake, and I’m not talking about the shortage of funds that led the market’s owner, Marcelino, to tape the check on the cash register.

Check out check No. 1246. See the mistake? It, like Jerry’s jerry-built check, is on display.

At first glance, there appears to be no funny business, big-bow-tied clown notwithstanding. Wait a second! On the DOLLARS line, the third letter came forth out of nowhere. That u is a fifth wheel, and one need not possess a sixth sense to come to the same conclusion.

Jerry didn’t write forty; his cursive word, like many middle-aged folks, is fortyish.

Jerry’s check is in the amount of fourty dollars, which makes zero sense. Spelling forty isn’t Jerry’s forte. Fortunately for him, I’m here to help. I’ve always spelled forty with ease; it’s never been a problem for me. What? Too arrogant? I can’t suppress my forty ‘tude.

The comedian’s confusion is understandable. Forty relates to the word four, yet it drops the u, while fourteen, another four-matted word, keeps it. Perhaps it’d make more sense to spell 40 with a u and use the u-less form as an adjective meaning fort-like. Example: When I was fourty, I built a forty tree house for my sons.

To muddy the issue even more, no uniformity exists for the spelling of multiples of ten. We have sixty and seventy, so one could surmise we’d also have threety and fourty. If nine times ten is ninety, shouldn’t five times ten be fivety?

Nevertheless, Jerry should not have cut this erroneous check. Even a fourth-grader knows forty forgoes a u. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that nobody on the Seinfeld crew spotted the error.

Then again, hindsight is twoty-twoty.