A long time ago (and I do mean long, as in several decades ago), I worked for awhile as a paste-up artist, sometimes called a finish artist. This was so long ago that scanners were new technology and the company I worked for had a scanner located in a room separate from everyone else with a controlled environment meant to reduce dust so the lone person who toiled at the task of scanning pages. This was so long ago, that I did manual paste-up, work that is now done by all kinds of people as desk top publishing. This was also so long ago that the company employed a professional proofreader. Because my job was to make minor pasteup corrections the proofreader found, I got to know the proofreader fairly well. He was an interesting fellow from South Dakota who told me he was probably the only person I'd ever met from South Dakota and that was true. He also told me he had literally read every book in the library of the town where he grew up. He also told me that he'd applied for a job as a proofreader at Coca-Cola. He had to take a proofreading test. He said that he not only found every mistake on the test that he was supposed to find but also one additional one they'd never noticed. He got that job and worked for Coca-Cola as a professional proofreader before he worked for the company where I met him.
It's so weird to think of a time when there were people who did manual paste-up work or who were professional proofreaders. For that matter, it's weird to think of a time when scanners were so new that a single person operated them in a room devised solely for that purpose.
I found that proofreader to be a very entertaining person with a clever sense of humor. He was often telling me interesting stories about his life in South Dakota.
Wonderful piece, John! I see so many typos, both in print and on TV, that I just shrug.
Good Punctuation Saves Lives
"Let's eat Grandpa."
"Let's eat, Grandpa."
Yes indeed. "She liked dating dogs and Justin Trudeau..."
So, nobody's spotted the typo in this piece yet? C'mon, you're highly literate folks...
A long time ago (and I do mean long, as in several decades ago), I worked for awhile as a paste-up artist, sometimes called a finish artist. This was so long ago that scanners were new technology and the company I worked for had a scanner located in a room separate from everyone else with a controlled environment meant to reduce dust so the lone person who toiled at the task of scanning pages. This was so long ago, that I did manual paste-up, work that is now done by all kinds of people as desk top publishing. This was also so long ago that the company employed a professional proofreader. Because my job was to make minor pasteup corrections the proofreader found, I got to know the proofreader fairly well. He was an interesting fellow from South Dakota who told me he was probably the only person I'd ever met from South Dakota and that was true. He also told me he had literally read every book in the library of the town where he grew up. He also told me that he'd applied for a job as a proofreader at Coca-Cola. He had to take a proofreading test. He said that he not only found every mistake on the test that he was supposed to find but also one additional one they'd never noticed. He got that job and worked for Coca-Cola as a professional proofreader before he worked for the company where I met him.
It's so weird to think of a time when there were people who did manual paste-up work or who were professional proofreaders. For that matter, it's weird to think of a time when scanners were so new that a single person operated them in a room devised solely for that purpose.
I found that proofreader to be a very entertaining person with a clever sense of humor. He was often telling me interesting stories about his life in South Dakota.
It was quiet oblivious, Hair Commandant.
Well done! Nobody else spotted "Commandant" when it should have been "Commandment"!