LEND ME YOUR EAR: THOUHTS ON RELAXING STANDARDS OF USAGE

Authorities on grammar estimate that the number of tenses in the English language is nearer 30 than three.

True, we have only three basic tenses -- present, past, and future. But grammar guides and textbooks include perfect as well -- present perfect, past perfect, future perfect. This gives us six without counting pluperfect, with a host of auxiliary words to swell the count. Not only the modal auxiliaries "may, must, might, could, would, and should," but hosts of others in addition to "have, has, had", used to form perfect tenses. Various forms of the verbs "will, can," and the many elements of "be" enter in, and in earlier columns we ushered in modes and moods to join the crowd.

We now add three more ways in which to express ourselves: simple, progressive, and emphatic -- and we have long since stopped trying to count.

Never mind the number, it's usage that matters. Simple is familiar to everyone who uses words. Today we talk, yesterday we talked, tomorrow we will or shall talk, though the distinction between "will" and "shall" is now observed only by those of us who still apply what we were taught eons ago.

Still talking, we move to progressive. Let us suppose I have a sister living with me. (I have always wanted a sister.) We will, would, could, and should be talking with or to each other every day. At times, however, my sister might complain that I don't talk, I just babble on about language. I insist that I can and do talk, and in so saying I have changed the tense to emphatic.

Strict grammarians might chastise me for having changed tenses in medias res, but how else could I have discussed the subject? Meanwhile, my sister has added yet another tense by saying that if I don't shut up I will have talked the night away. She has just spoken future progressive, though she is chairman of the Board of Multitudes who couldn't care less. Chairwoman? BLSPH!

Sticklers for rules could also question the propriety of my combining two sentences with only a comma, and no conjunction or even a semicolon to separate the two. "Never mind counting, it's usage that matters" is the sentence at issue. In statements this brief, true masters of the art permit us to relax, and I do so without a qualm. Common sense wins out over fuss-budget punctuation.

It is also considered an offense to use contractions in formal or serious writing, but we language columnists by-pass formality if the form sounds stilted. In the sentence still smoldering, "it is usage that matters" strikes me as stuffy. Still, if some long-faced grammarian were to threaten me with a whip, I'd turn emphatic again and reply it "is" usage that matters, placing the emphasis on "is."

William Safire, in his charming little book, "Fumble Rules," stated that he had taken pains to write the book in an intentionally informal style "to make the medicine go down." At the same time, he explained that in anything as formal as a constitution or an inaugural address (Safire was President Nixon's speech writer), he writes in a style no less than majestic. Having thus laid bare his soul, he advises us to either "contractuate" around, or mind our manners and proceed according to Hoyle.

I "contractuate" around any time my ear tells me it sounds better and seems suitable to circumstance. Grammar is essential, but only as medicine to take as needed -- not to gulp or swallow in heavy doses without considering how it might affect healthy muscles or tissues.

Relaxation of standards in every area of life and living has been playing havoc with the moral fiber of our country for generations. A recent article in the Missourian on the lowering of standards in office wear prompted venerable staffer B. Ray Owen to describe his own surroundings in this regard. In a paperwork environment such as his newspaper's, he affirmed, "neckties and spike heels have gone the way of the typewriter and mimeograph."

As a homebody who writes in a muumuu gown and no heels at all, I am all for comfort in the workroom. But I must take exception to our revered gentleman-writer's low opinion of typewriters and the outdated mimeograph. My faithful Smith-Corona with the correction key still serves my needs, aided by correction strips and whiteout, and I've been searching through newspaper ads for some time for a workable mimeograph. It would be a blessing to me in these modest quarters, and surely to my Girl Friday who comes twice on Thursday to do shuttle service between Insta Print and the Missourian in my behalf.

In view of all the effort put forth by friends and the House of Rust to get these columns in print, I confess to being much less relaxed about standards in general than I appear.

Aileen Lorberg of Cape Girar deau is a longtime English grammer columnist for the Southeast Missourian.