It’s A Girl

With text messaging entering it tenth year of existence earlier this week, it is getting increasingly more difficult to imagine life with this handy method of instant communication. But caveat textor — Let the texter beware! Phones, which seem to be getting “smarter” with each new generation, now employ auto-correct. Auto-correct, for the people in my life who are clinging to their stupid phones, is like spell-check juiced up on steroids.

See here for some astounding examples.

Which reminds me of a story — again, I’m a rabbi and everything reminds rabbis of a story — well, two stories, actually.

***
In fulfillment of the requirements for Rabbinic Ordination at HUC-JIR, I was required to write a Rabbinic Thesis. My thesis advisor was a straight-shooting, grumpy, brilliant character. Giddy with the completion of my first chapter, Dr. P returned it with a single red circle.

I used spell-check, I lamely responded, rather humiliated.

Ms. Frummie, he said, spell-check will never correct ‘pubic library.’

Dr. P was right.

Upon learning the grade of tumour that had infiltrated MamaBear’s, z”l, brain, I send a text to a doctor-friend. She thought that congratuations were in order.

Because spell-check changed “glio” to “girl.”

it’s not a girl. It. The tumour. It is a glio. A glioblastoma. A 5 cm tumour in the posterior parietal lobe with some extension into the temporal lobe.

So not a girl.

***

Caveat textor.