Editing the Yuletide

In my new job as an editorial director, I deal with a lot of people who think they know how to write. They can't, mind you...but god bless 'em, do they try.

Imagine my excitement this morning when opening my inbox and seeing a mere one email -- clearly labeled, "Re: Xmas Humor FUNNNNYYYY!" from one of my colleagues.

Though my normal reaction to such an original subject line would have been to drop that email directly in my "New Jersey" folder (formerly known as "The Recycle Bin"), I let my love of the holidays get the best of me.

The joke went as follows:

Q: What do you call Santa's Helpers?
A: Subordinate clauses.

Oh dear, could someone help me clean up all this milk? Of course, I had to reply. I hit the button and started typing,

Dear Bill,

What exactly is a subordinate clause?

Brad

Twenty minutes later, I get an email back...

Shut up.

Now, any decent human being would have accepted his "Shut up" as a concession and let him return to writing Oprah's next best seller. But I'm not one, so I pressed forward.

Bill,
After spending a few minutes pondering your reply, I determined that you may not actually know what a subordinate clause is. And since you're clearly too proud a man to take five minutes searching the internet to actually find out what a subordinate clause is, allow me to offer you a clear definition of the rule:

A subordinate clause—also called a dependent clause—will begin with a subordinate conjunction or a relative pronoun and will contain both a subject and a verb. This combination of words will not form a complete sentence. It will instead make a reader want additional information to finish the thought.

Hope this helps,
Brad

The next hour went by without any further mention of the subject. I went about my day, and actually started to feel guilty about punking the guy on grammar, especially since all he really did was try to give his editor a little holiday levity. Maybe I came across a little too heavy handed on the guy -- don't want him thinking I was being a schmuck to him in the name of syntax.

On the way back from Subway, I decided to write the guy an apology and say I was just busting some grammatical chops. But all of that goodwill left me when I got to my desk, and read the following:

Dear Brad,

Haha. Thanks for letting me know. Of course I know what a subordinate clause is. And I promise I will never end a sentence with one.

Bill

God, I hate firing people so close to the holidays.