Ben Duke, of Philadelphia, has sent me a photograph of the front of a store in Brierly
Hall, England. The sign reads:

Goodwyns Furniture Ltd.
SOFA’S CHAIR’S RECLINER’S BED’S

Ben calls this signage “The Four Aprostrophe’s of the Apocalypse” and informs me that
“the establishment is now permanently closed, so punctuation matters!”

I call such absurd punctuation “prepostrophes.” Hey, there’s an s at the end of a word, so
I have to insert a squiggle before that s. No you don’t. The s is a plural, not a possessive!
And to top it off, the word Goodwyns, which is the only word that should have an
apostrophe, doesn’t!

DEAR RICHARD: My husband played pickleball once on his 18 th birthday in his hometown, near
where it originated. Forty-three years later, we joined the craze and are regularly enjoying
playing (thanks to your lessons). We were wondering how the strange name of pickleball came
about -Jan Nikolai, Escondido

The game started during the summer of 1965 on Bainbridge Island, a short ferry ride
from Seattle, Washington. Then State Representative Joel Pritchard and two of his friends — Bill
Bell and Barney McCallum — returned from golf one Saturday afternoon and found their
families bored with the usual summertime activities. They tried to set up badminton, but no one
could find the shuttlecock. So they improvised with a Wiffle ball, lowered the badminton net,
and fabricated paddles of plywood from a nearby shed.

According to Joan Pritchard, Joel’s wife, the name of the sport came “after I said it
reminded me of the Pickle Boat in crew, where oarsmen were chosen from the leftovers of other
boats. Somehow the idea the name came from our dog Pickles was attached to the naming of the
game, but Pickles wasn’t on the scene for two more years. The dog was named for the game.”
The team on the north side of a pickleball court serves first as a tip of the hat and a bow to
Bainbridge Island.

DEAR RICHARD: With the possible demise of penny production, have you considered a piece
coveting the multitude of idioms and sayings that encompass the word? -David Smollat, San
Diego

To coin a phrase, a nickel for your thoughts, David. Your idea is nickelwise but not pound
foolish, certainly not nickel-ante. You are clearly not a nickel pincher. Thanks for sharing your
five cents. They’re worth a pretty nickel, and a nickel saved is a nickel earned. Like you, I’m in
for a nickel, in for a pound, and we both know that a bad nickel always comes back. Now my
favorite songs are “Nickels from Heaven” and “Nickel Lane,” my favorite store JCNickel, and
my favorite footwear nickel loafers.

DEAR RICHARD: I enjoyed reading your column about Fadspeak, all the worn-out clichés that
pollute our language. My question: How do you do it?:How do you come up with a topic and keep
the theme going for an entire column? How do you make it look like a piece of cake and
not a hot potato? -Nick Dieterich, Rancho Santa Fe

When I was a child, I conjured up “a butterfly will flutter by.” As a teenager, I improved
that to “a dragonfly will drink its flagon dry.” I was editor-in-chief of my junior high school
literary magazine and my high school newspaper. Words have always embraced me, and the
alphabet dances in my brain. And when a topic like Fadspeak starts shouting, “Write me! Write
me!,” a battalion of examples instantly line up and report for duty.

I owe these abilities to three letters — OCD. In truth, I am blessed with CDO, which is
OCD in alphabetical order. Thanks to the convergence of genes, environment, and drive, I
experience spasmodic joy about my unstinting love affair with language.

DEAR RICHARD: By any chance,, are you related to William Lederer, author of The Ugly
American? Probably not, but just thought we’d ask -Sally and Craig Fox, Vista

I am not related to William Lederer, but I did meet him once and asked him, “People
often ask me if I’m related to you. Do people ask you if you are related to me?” He replied, “All
the time!”