Grammar Moses: Saving lives, one comma at a time

Commas really DO save lives.

You've seen permutations of these sayings in internet shareables and on T-shirts and probably a few crocheted potholders:

"Let's eat, Grandma."

"I like cooking, my family and pets."

"Have you eaten, my child?"

"Help, a thief!"

Remove the comma in each sentence and the meaning is altered significantly. With the exception of the aiding and abetting example, much of it involves cannibalism.

I promised David Borck of Arlington Heights I would explore the whole "Commas Save Lives" movement.

Let's examine these sentences one by one.

If you were suggesting to Granny that people had probably had enough of the port wine cheese ball and stale Triscuits, you might slide her a note suggesting, "Let's eat, Grandma."

But "Let's eat Grandma" is a sentence you might surreptitiously text to a roomful of hungry Thanksgiving celebrants if you discovered someone had forgotten to buy the bird.

If you were listing your interests on your dating profile, you might write: "I like cooking, my family and pets."

One separates items in a list by commas, you see.

If you were trying to impress your new werewolf date, you more likely would write, "I like cooking my family and pets."

"Have you eaten, my child?" is the same construction as "Let's eat, Grandma," but in a question. You should precede the person you are addressing with a comma.

The comma-less alternative is somehow grosser than eating Grandma, though probably a good deal tenderer.

This discussion reminded me of a wonderful little best-seller by British journalist and author Lynne Truss titled "Eats Shoots & Leaves."

The title is based on a panda-walks-into-a-bar joke, with a comma providing the punchline.

If you're interested in reading more about the importance of punctuation, pick it up. It's a hoot.

A just clause

Judging by the mail I receive, I have more nonagenarians as regular readers than AARP magazine does.

It's always fun to find people who are passionate about language, especially when they tell me they clip out these columns and put them in a scrapbook or send them to friends or grandchildren.

Bobbie Briggs of Vernon Hills just turned 93, and her blue pencil is as sharp as ever.

She writes: "In your paper is the sentence: 'I trace my roots back to 1984, when a 19-year-old Texan funded me with $1,000 and started selling computers he assembled from parts from his college dorm room.' I'm just curious what he used from the room: doorknobs, hinges?"

Bobbie, I suspect my TRS80 back in the '80s did contain a variety of household items - and was as helpful in my journalistic pursuits as a toilet brush - but that probably wasn't your point.

All you need to fix that sentence is to set off an adjective clause with commas.

"He started selling computers, which he assembled from parts, from his college dorm room."

My own hat

I've been thinking lately about the importance of branding.

In my research for the Commas Save Lives movement, I found an online T-shirt outlet that sells (I'm not making this up) one that reads "Let's Eat Uncle Jim."

Sure, it would be a fun Thanksgiving outfit, but that's not going to create the groundswell I am hoping for.

So I went on a website that hawks customizable hats and came up with something that just might do the trick. It seems to work best in white stitching on a red background.

Do you think it'll catch on?

Write carefully!

• Jim Baumann is vice president/managing editor of the Daily Herald. Write him at jbaumann@dailyherald.com. Put Grammar Moses in the subject line. You also can friend or follow Jim at facebook.com/baumannjim.