Just call me a lucky so-and-so

Kymberlie Caulkins, an author from the California Writers Club, texted me: “Was your editor on vacation last week?”

I texted back: “What does that mean?”

“Your column last week,” she wrote. “It was filled with So’s and And’s. Do they not edit you for grammar?”

“Ah, but you see,” I explained, “There’s a difference between grammar and voice. Look at Mark Twain. Look at Alice Walker.”

“I get that,” she replied, “but those are authors. You write a column. And besides, you don’t talk like that.”

I might not talk like that when I’m having dinner with my husband and sons, but when I sit down to write this column, I become the guy who talks like that.

What Kymberlie doesn’t know is that between me and the published version of my column stands a battalion of editors, each of whom has an encyclopedic knowledge of Bay Area trivia and has memorized Strunk and White’s “The Elements of Style.” They tell me how many muralists painted Coit Tower.

They tell me when I have spliced commas and confused antecedents. They tell me whether I lay, lie or have lain. One robust fellow corrected, “It’s not the outer, outer Excelsior. It’s the Outer, Outer, Outer, Outer Excelsior” — complete with capital O’s.

But just in case Kymberlie is right, I’m rationing the amount of “So’s” I use.

Ironically, perhaps, this Saturday is National Grammar Day. It was established in 2008 by Martha Brockenbrough, the founder of the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar, who has noted that March 4 is not just a date, it’s an imperative.

Grammar is the set of rules that govern the relationship between words. As you might have guessed, the concept of grammar was invented by the Greeks. In this case, in the second century B.C., Dionysius Thrax of Alexandria wrote a treatise called “The Art of Grammar.” And ever since, philosophers have argued whether grammar is an art or a science.

My pal Crazy Mike will tell you that grammar is only for the written word, not the spoken. He embraces the Roman maxim Verba volant, scripta manent. (What is spoken flies away, what is written endures.) But me, I believe that grammar is where you find it, whether in the book or in the sky.

In a completely unscientific study, I asked friends and family whether or not they liked grammar. Not one person said yes. My son Aidan shrugged, and my son Zane wasn’t even sure what it was but was sure it was no fun. (I must admit that secretly I love to diagram sentences.)

What makes Grammar Day even more ironic is that on that evening, the Berkeley Public Library Foundation will host its 20th annual Authors Dinner, “honoring 22 writers who are shaping today’s Bay Area literary landscape.” Including me. Kymberlie would have you believe that I changed that landscape by lobbing grenades filled with “So’s”.

You’re thinking that maybe I don’t belong. And maybe you’re right. The honorary chair of the event is a Nobel laureate. There’s a guy from Clinton’s Cabinet. There are at least two authors I had to read because they were on Aidan’s high school reading list (Gene Luen Yang, “American Born Chinese”; Dashka Slater, “The 57 Bus”). Some of these authors are so good their books got banned.

I am humbled to be the one writer among these authors. But we have this much in common: All 22 of us love words and the magical grammar that holds them together.

If you can’t get to the Berkeley Public Library Foundation’s 20th annual fundraiser, here are some other ways to celebrate Grammar Day:

1. Be nice to a grammar nerd. There’s a thin line between a grammar nerd and a grammar nazi.

2. Avoid using the word “irregardless” all day long; “irrespective” as well. Yes, yes, there are dictionaries that will tell you that irregardless really means regardless but why not just say “regardless?”

3. Avoid using the phrase “I could care less.” What you mean is that you could not care less. And even if you could care less, what makes you think the person you’re telling cares whether you care at all?

4. Grab a red pen and circle all the errors you can find in this column. I cannot promise you a prize, but possibly an engaging argument. Someone’s gonna tell me it’s the author’s dinner. Someone else will counter it’s the authors’ dinner. And I could care less. All I know is I’m getting a free meal. (Apologies in advance for “gonna.”)

5. When in doubt, throw in a “So” or an “And.” It will make you feel colloquial.

And on Saturday: March Forth!

The concept of grammar was invented by the Greeks . ... And ever since, philosophers have argued whether grammar is an art or a science.