Conversat* + Conservat*

I cannot be entirely sure of this, O Best Beloved, but I almost feel as if I can trace my unabashed love for alliteration to my first reading of "The Elephant's Child" by Rudyard Kipling, a pourquois story first published in 1902. "I am going," the Elephant's Child declares one day, "to the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees, to find out what the Crocodile has for dinner." While searching in OhioLINK for today's typo—which got a whopping 175 hits in OhioLINK—I had to stop and smile at one rather lengthy one, which read in part: "... on the effectiveness of the African Elephant Conversation Act ..." I am not conversant with this act, but it certainly has my wholehearted support (I'm not a conservative, after all). Still, no matter how many lawmakers sit around jawing about elephant conservation, I doubt it will ever do as much for our love of these gentle giants as that wonderful Kipling tale has done. The Elephant's Child, with his 'satiable curtiosity, chatted up nearly every single animal in the jungle, and got repeatedly spanked for it. But in the end, those conversations served him well, as did the spanking new nose he received from the Crocodile. (Please note that not all 175 records retrieved contain typos; the majority, in fact, proably don't. For example, the first one in the list is for a 1938 publication called Conservation conversation, concerning the Civilian Conservation Corps in Tompkins, New York.)

(Original woodcut illustration for the Just So story, The Elephant's Child, by Rudyard Kipling, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Sibyl* + Sybil* (for Sybil* or Sibyl*)

Got room for one more cutie pie? Originally groomed to be competition for Fox Studio's Shirley Temple, Sybil Jason was a talented little actress in her own right. Jason was born in 1927 in Cape Town, South Africa, where she began to play the piano at the age of two, and was doing full-blown public impersonations of Maurice Chevalier by three. Though her career with Warner Bros. was relatively brief, she continues to thrive today and is an active member of the International Al Jolson Society. (Jason co-starred with Jolson in The Singing Kid in 1936.) She never achieved the cultural status of Shirley Temple, but she did have supporting roles in The Little Princess and The Blue Bird and remained close friends with Temple her entire life.

A sibyl was one of approximately ten ancient Greek or Roman oracles; the word is now generally used to mean any female prophet. According to FreeDictionary.com: "The most famous was the Cumaean sibyl, described by Vergil in the Aeneid. When she offered Tarquin her prophetic writings, the so-called sibylline books, he refused to pay her high price. She kept burning the books until finally he bought the remaining three at the original price..." Today marks the 90th anniversary of the ratification of the 19th Amendment to the Constitution. Let's all take a moment to celebrate the 19th-century sibyls who struggled so long for women's suffrage and prophesied the rise of feminism in the coming decades. Long live the right to vote, along with the right to be cute! Sibyl* + Sybil* turns up 25 records in OhioLINK, nearly all of which predictably contain at least one typo.

(Sybil Jason, from ClassicMovieKids.com.)

Carol Reid

Hitchock, etc. (for Hitchcock)

Continuing along with yesterday's theme of cute and geeky child actors, today we're featuring the memorable Edna May Wonacott, a complete novice who got her start in Alfred Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt, filmed on location in her hometown of Santa Rosa, California. The film (with screenplay by Thornton Wilder) was purportedly Hitchcock's personal favorite, and is definitely one of mine. It's the story of a devoted niece and namesake (Teresa Wright), her smart and skeptical kid sister (Wonacott) and oblivious little brother (Charles Bates), their dotty, trusting parents (Henry Travers and Patricia Collinge), and unctuous Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten), who suddenly shows up on their doorstep without much of an explanation. Wonacott plays that frequent Hitchcock character (frumpy, quirky, bookish, wise, and often ignored by the others; another one I love is the ornithologist, Mrs. Bundy, in The Birds), the one who can see most clearly and dispassionately the evil that surrounds them. There were 19 cases of Hitchock, five of Hichcock, and five of Alfred + Hitchock lurking in OhioLINK this morning.

(Edna May Wonacott and Teresa Wright contemplating a quick trip to the library, in Shadow of a Doubt, 1943, from Toutlecine.com.)

Carol Reid

O'Brian + O'Brien (for O'Brien or O'Brian)

Of all of "America's sweethearts," from Mary Pickford to Shirley Temple to Natalie Wood and so on, one of my all-time favorite child stars was Margaret O'Brien. She had a very naturalistic way of portraying youngsters who were naturally melodramatic; her histrionics seemed genuine and heartfelt. She was always sticking up for herself, her size, and her sex. O'Brien was a girl-power gamine, a true force of nature. She could be both howlingly funny and seriously affecting. Plus she could sing and dance up a storm. Everybody has seen this kid somewhere: adorably paired with big sister Judy Garland in Meet Me in St. Louis, tending The Secret Garden with Colin and Dickon, tugging heartstrings and jerking tears as the dying Beth in Little Women. Or perhaps as the young heiress of a castle haunted by The Canterville Ghost, the idealistic farmer's daughter in Our Vines Have Tender Grapes, or the psychically scarred war orphan who adopts Robert Young in Journey for Margaret (her first film and the one that gave young Angela O'Brien her stage name). There were 16 instances of O'Brian + O'Brien in OhioLINK, only a couple of which were cases where the spellings correctly refer to two different people.

(Margaret O'Brien, from Flickr.)

Carol Reid

Greee* (for Gree*)

There are plenty of greens in our vegetable gardens this time of year, including mesclun, collards, chard, mustard, and often, most strikingly, kale. But how to realistically consume all this vitamin-rich, leafy, high-fiber greenery? I recently discovered that you can satisfyingly (and surreptitiously) add it to a smoothie, which is also a good way to avoid heating up the kitchen on a hot summer day. Put the green stuff in the blender first and turn it up till it makes a noise sort of like today's typo. Then add the softer, sweeter ingredients (banana, avocado, berries, whatever you like). Delicious and nutritious! An ape called Kanzi, profiled in Time magazine last week, might have been wishing he had had a blender too when he used the words "Slow Lettuce" to indicate the kale he'd been given for lunch, an apparent reference to the fact that kale takes a long time to chew. I was equally enchanted the other day to learn that James Barrie had been a member of the so-called "Kailyard School." These were authors who wrote about rural life in turn of the century Scotland. (Kailyard is Scottish for "kale field.") According to one such story, the town of Kilmaurs was justly esteemed for its excellent kale, and had been offered a princely sum for some seeds. The "cunning" farmers of Kilmaurs (perhaps greedily) agreed, but gave the seeds a "gentle roasting" on a shovel over some hot coals before delivery, thus guaranteeing that the greens wouldn't grow for the neighbors. Greee* has bloomed 38 times in OhioLINK and should, in virtually every case, be pruned to a more manageable gree*.

(Ornamental kale blooming in January in Washington, DC., by Terren, 2008, from Wikimedia Commons.)

Carol Reid

Cutural* (for Cultural*)

Like me, many of you work in the cultural field (my library is actually under the aegis of something called the "Office of Cultural Education") and, if so, you're probably suffering from massive budget cuts as well. We were recently advised not to call ourselves a "library of record" or "backup library" anymore. Nor should we consider ourselves "collection-based," but rather, well, let's just say "service-oriented" instead. I feel sorry for writers who've had their books published during the past few years because we probably weren't able to buy them (it's nothing personal!) and most likely never will. The only lasting testament to this fact will be a large lacuna in our catalog for the lean years in question. Cutural* turns up 20 times or more in OhioLINK, so let's cut the cr--, I mean typo, from our own library of records, and hold onto a bit of culture while we still can.

(Ribbon cutting ceremony at a local branch library that was recently renovated, from the Albany Public Library website.)

Carol Reid

Congess* (for Congress*)

How Congress decides to spend our money is truly anyone's guess. Sometimes the whole thing seems like a giant con. When it comes to reading, writing, and 'rithmatic, our reprobate reps seem to be remiss in at least one of the 3 R's. Today's typo for this congealed mess is also missing an R: Congess* turned up on 104 records in OhioLINK this morning. Yes, that is a lot, but fortunately it's not 104 billion ... or 9.6 trillion. Mind-boggling debt and deficit numbers tend to inure folks to the current problem, but if you want an accessible and entertaining explanation of what we're really up against these days, check out the 2008 documentary by Patrick Creadon, I.O.U.S.A.

(Benjamin Harrison, whose legislative branch was known as the "Billion Dollar Congress," portrayed here as wasting the surplus gained under Cleveland, from Puck magazine, 1892. Remind you of anyone?)

Carol Reid