First time for everything

I've never been in the New York Times ... until today!

Unprecedented, you say? Not so fast.

As I've said before, "unprecedented" is one of those words that drives me crazy. So when I noticed this week that the New York Times editor who oversees language issues for the newspaper was responding online to questions from readers, I jumped at the chance to register my gripe. Today they used my question.

Here's my published exchange with the editor, Philip B. Corbett (that's his mug above, from the NYT):

An Unprecedented Question

Q. First, thank you. The current discussion is very interesting, and I admire the evenness of your tone and the thoughtfulness of your answers.

My question concerns the use of a pet-peeve word: unprecedented. A favorite editor, discouraging the word's use, once told me there's a precedent for almost everything. I agree, and yet I seem to see it cropping up more and more. The Times isn't as guilty on this score as many other publications, but even in your paper I see Moscow imposing unprecedented restrictions on election observers, an unprecedented federal aviation survey, unprecedented numbers of uninsured patients, and dairy costs at unprecedented levels. And that's just one day!

I've had trouble getting reporters and editors in my own newsroom to address this language tic. Or maybe it's just me. What do you think?

— Mark Matassa, Seattle

A. Mr. Matassa is in good company with this pet peeve. Al Siegal, who literally wrote the book on The Times's style, also discouraged use of this word, for the same reason. Our stylebook elaborates:

UNPRECEDENTED means for the first time. Do not modify the word with a term like very, rather or almost; either something is unprecedented or (far more likely) it is not. Use the term rarely, and only after verifying the history. Then carefully specify the aspect that qualifies.

It may be that since Mr. Siegal's retirement last year, our vigilance on this point has eroded. I'll keep an eye out.

There! See that, people?

Anyway, Mr. Corbett's entire "Talk to the Newsroom" Q&A is very good. I recommend it for language geeks, news hounds and anyone interested in good writing.

Spazziversary

Today is the first day of the rest of your life, the old saying goes, and it's true for all of us, every day. But a year ago today really was the first day of my new life -- nothing much has been the same since; some in good ways, others not so great.

I don't remember a lot about the day, except that I was exceptionally tired at work. I had no energy, even to walk across the newsroom or sit upright at the news meetings. I kept feeling like I was about to fall asleep. Michelle reminds me that my plan for that night was to go play cards because she had a night meeting to attend. But her meeting got canceled, and I was beat so I decided to stay home too. Also, I had just taken over management of the P-I sports department as part of a reorganization, and I was going to edit the paper's star sports columnist, Art Thiel, for the first time. I could do that from home.

While I was waiting for Thiel to file, we had some dinner and put on the TV to watch "Lost," the stupid show I'd grown tired of but Michelle still liked. Pretty soon I told Michelle I felt sick to my stomach and, sure enough, I went into the bathroom and was sick.

That's all I remember. Michelle tells me that shortly after that, sitting back in the living room, I looked at her funny and then suddenly went into violent convulsions. She, being a lover of technology, dove across the room and caught my laptop just before it hit the floor. And then (simultaneously, she says, but I don't know) tried to help me.

I woke up several days later in the hospital. I had had a tonic-clonic seizure. It's been a blur of surgeries, doctor visits, procedures and pills since.

Not long ago we were watching a terrific HBO documentary, hosted by James Gandolfini, about soldiers who were seriously injured in Iraq. They called the day they escaped death their "alive day," and that became the title of the show. Michelle and I immediately made the connection to my seizure evening. And although "alive day" seems a bit dramatic and overstated for my deal, it definitely feels like an anniversary worth marking. So that's what we're thinking about today.

Halloween Past

Okay, well this is the oldest Halloween memory with photo I bet any of us can muster.

This is a Halloween photo taken of me and my sibs and mom back in 1973. I can still smell the plastic of that mask. Man, I thought that mask was AWESOME.

Yes, and at the time, Mark, we were living in Italy. Mark loves it when I say that. Guess which one is me.

Our latest contributor

I just want to welcome my cousin Ronelle, from Oceanport, N.J., who stumbled across M&M yesterday and already has posted her first comment, on the subject of naming Michelle's new car.

Ronelle sent me a few pictures of her daughter Christin (my third cousin?), who just graduated from high school. I've met her a couple of times -- Christin, I mean -- but in my head she's like 9 years old. Ronelle I don't know a heck of a lot better, but I've always felt a very close connection to her. We just hit it off.

Here's Christin:

Here's Ronelle's comment on Michelle's car:

How presumptuous of me to make my first comment a suggestion for naming your new addition! Then again, I do have the BEST idea so it would just be wrong for me to keep it to myself. It seems obvious to me that your new very blue ride should be named Jake or Elwood - you get to pick which one you like best. Enjoy it!

And here's what she's talking about (I have to admit it's a pretty good idea):



Thanks Ronelle. And welcome!

Here they are!

Michelle and her new ride:


Very cool. The car, too.

Michelle even made an exception last night to her strict I'm-not-riding-with-no-damn-epileptic policy and let me drive the Element around the block. Nice. Sure glad I didn't seize out and crash.

Good purchase, baby.