When I was a young editor, I hated the Language Police who would call the newsroom.
They were almost always older readers, and they reminded me of cats under the couch. They’d just sit and wait to swipe at the ankle of any grammatical error or typo that walked by.
I could detect a note of glee in every call from the officers of the Language Police. It was as if, with no papers to correct, these retired English teachers and copy editors were sitting there clutching their red, felt-tipped pens while being cruelly denied an outlet for their impulse to scold.
I don’t doubt they felt honestly disappointed at some grammatical transgression or spelling atrocity we had committed, but they sure sounded happy to report it. When they called the newsroom, all I could think about was Gomer Pyle on the the old “Andy Griffith Show” yelling: “Citizen’s arrest! Citizen’s arrest!”
Now, being suddenly older, I understand Language Police impulse.