Everyone is bedeviled by a word they cannot quite remember how to spell. Sometimes you're hung up on a rule — is it L before Z except after T? Sometimes it's a matter of usage. Complementary or complimentary? Further or farther?
You turn to Google for the answer. If you get a word wrong, Google will tell you, kindly. You search for "philoxerikeurotynicalogical," as one does, and the page will say "did you mean philoxerikeurotynicological?"
It always knows where you're at, thanks to your IP address, so it can assemble all the spelling searches by location.
Last week they decided to embarrass (two R's? Checking ... yes) everyone by releasing a state-by-state list of the words that residents don't know how to spell. Of course we will get to Minnesota, but let us first consider our neighbors.
Wisconsinites were most vexed by "lose." The most charitable explanation: They didn't know whether "loose" had one "o" or two, but that would mean they were writing "my pants feel loose," and that is unlikely in a state that consumes so much beer and cheese.
North Dakota: "sorry." Again, it's a mystery. Are there people writing an apologetic letter who type "I'm just so surry," then pause, and think, "You know, that doesn't look right. How about ... I'm so sorey. I'm so sarry. Oh, never mind. I'll just write: 'I tender with solicitous mien my most sincere apologies.'"
Iowa is stumped by "cousin." If it were another state, I'd think they were trying to spell "spouse."
New Mexico has a sensible query: They want to know how to spell "bologna,' because someone said there was a "g" in it, and no, you're wrong, dude, it's not balag-na, it's baloney." Then they stared with disbelief at the results. "So the 'g' is silent? Then why is it there? Is it like one of those featherbedding jobs where the 'g' gets paid but never shows up and does anything?"
Idaho's top search: "Tokyo, " which is wierd — sorry, weird. Georgia was stumped by "little," perhaps because the "e" does nothing but bring up the rear. West Virginia's entry is the most confusing: They google the spelling for "West Virginia," perhaps surprised to find it's two words and not "Wesferginya."
Virginia must have a lot of French people who cannot believe the word "prank" isn't spelled "pranque." Alaskans are curious about "cheese." "Oh, so it's not cheez? Is the stuff in the can spelled Cheese Whizze, then?"
Some of the queries were perfectly sensible. In Alabama, they check on "exercise." Understandable. Some of us cannot shake the conviction that the word has a "z." Florida is confused by "separate," as are many of us: It looks wrong. I will go to my graav thinking "separate" has too many A's.
Which brings us to Minnesota. We're one of nine states whose spelling search had between nine and 11 letters. We searched for ... "paparazzi."
This is like Californians searching for "lutefisk." Why would we be so interested in that word? We have so few celebrities we only need but one paparazzo. Our famous people do not walk a gantlet of nervy bottom-feeders detonating flashbulbs by the dozen as they run to their limo. It's possible there's a pizza joint in Pipestone called Papa Razzo's, and people are just looking for the phone number.
I think the whole thing's nonsense, to be honest. So many sports fans in this state, and no one looked up the spelling for "championship"? Perhaps it's because they don't think they'll ever need to use it.
