Grammar Moses: If I were a rich man

"I have a problem with the words 'were' and 'was,'" writes reader Linda Cohen. "'If I was rich' or 'If I were rich.' Please help with that."

Let me understand the question, Linda. Would you like me to help you get rich or help you with this common usage issue?

I'm ill-equipped to assist you with the former, given that I've spent a career in journalism.

However, there is an easy way to remember the latter.

Who doesn't know the opening line to the signature song in "Fiddler on the Roof"?

"If I were a rich man ..."

See how easy that is to remember?

Now, if you can tell me what the second line is without looking it up, you win my undying admiration.

Another way to keep this straight is the telltale presence of "if."

I'll try to explain why.

"Was" suggests past tense.

"If I was rich" - a tortured construction - implies that I no longer am rich, not that I might be rich someday.

Consider the past week's behavior of the Dow if you need a reminder about what being rich was.

"If I were rich" is an example of the subjunctive mood.

The whaaaaat?

That sounds like the title of a Dave Brubeck album, if you ask me.

The verb is in the subjunctive mood if it expresses a hypothetical or conditional version of reality.

"If I were rich, I'd make a career out of giving away all of my dough."

"If I were skinnier, I still wouldn't wear skinny jeans."

Seriously, fellas, it's not a good look.

In "Fiddler On the Roof," Tevye sings that if he were a rich man, all day long he'd biddy biddy bum.

Maybe you can explain to me what that means.

Bunting isn't just for mourning

The Merriam-Webster website is a fascinating place. You should visit it sometime.

This week it featured a piece on words that describe animal behavior.

If your life is anything like mine, your cat will visit you during an important Zoom meeting with your boss, turn its butt to camera and then headbutt you.

Not great for your career, but a solid sign of affection that we all crave these days.

That head-butting is called "bunting."

And that's a new one on me.

Its origin is in "butting," and not the kind I described earlier.

Remember Mr. Ed?

He wasn't really talking to Wilbur. Sorry for a spoiler, but you've had almost 60 years to figure that out yourself.

When horses curl their upper lip back and show you their teeth, they are exhibiting flehmen. Basically, they're tasting the air - a pretty good indication another animal has peed nearby.

In this case, however, Alan Young, who played the character of Ed's owner, Wilbur, said the trainer used to put a piece of nylon thread under Mr. Ed's tongue, and what looked like flehmen in most horses was Mr. Ed's attempt to get the thread out of his mouth. After a while, though, the horse - whose real name was Bamboo Harvester, of all things - learned to do it when the trainer touched his hoof.

Keep that in your back pocket for trivia night.

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.