Thirteen years ago, old-school copy editor John McIntyre had what I called “a delightful hard-boiled detective story celebrating National Grammar Day”; now he’s got a follow-up, Grammar Noir: The Old Editor grilled, which begins:
I was at the bar sipping an afternoon boulevardier when some rando came in and asked, “Are you the Old Editor?” When I owned the soft impeachment, he handed me a piece of paper and said, “You have been served.”
The paper was a summons to testify before the House Subcommittee on Governmental Travesties, chaired by one Representative Browbeat, with regard to challenges to my book, Bad Advice: The Most Unreliable Counsel Available on Grammar, Usage, and Writing.
My attorneys at Dewey, Cheatam & Howe assured me that there was no option but to appear, so I selected a dark suit, a somber bow tie, and a humble demeanor, taking my seat in the chamber.
The Old Editor acquits himself nobly, and I learned a new cocktail name (“The boulevardier cocktail is an alcoholic drink composed of whiskey, sweet vermouth, and Campari”). Thanks, John!
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