I’m a Believer (In the Oxford Comma)
My story: I didn’t even know what the Oxford Comma was, but in general, I was against it.
For instance, what’s the difference between these two sentences:
Grandma sent me to the drug store to buy shampoo, toothpaste, and corn plasters.
Grandma sent me to the drug store to buy shampoo, toothpaste and corn plasters.
Eagle-eyed readers will immediately see that the difference between these two sentences is one little comma, which appears to have no particular use. When you are listing items in a sentence, the “and” is a signal that you’re wrapping up the list and it doesn’t need that intrusive little curve that looks like a tadpole with a ruptured appendix. It’s redundant. I hate redundancy. I take commas out whenever they don’t appear to be needed, and if copy editors put them back in, I will sometimes (if I’m very, very, sure) take them out again.
But . . . all the experts said that items in a list must be distinguished by a comma before the “and.” Much as I hate redundancy, I hate incorrectness more. How mortifying, to be passed over for the Newbery or National Book Award because I disdained the Oxford comma. That’s almost like disdaining Laurence Olivier, or telling William and Kate that their latest baby is ugly.
So I accustomed myself to using the Oxford comma without knowing the reason why. Sometimes it’s wise to obey the rules even if you don’t understand the reason for the rules; else you may end up looking silly. Like these examples from a few years back:
Among those interviewed were Merle Haggard’s two ex-wives, Kris Kristofferson and Robert Duvall.
This book is dedicated to my parents, Ayn Rand and God.
Highlights of Peter Ustinov’s global tour include encounters with Nelson Mandela, an 800 year-old demigod and a garbage collector.
. . . .oh. I get it.
Adding the Oxford to items in a list is merely to distinguish it from items of attribution, such as those attributes falsely and ignominiously attributed to Haggard’s ex-wives, the author’s parents, and Nelson Mandela. Notice the Oxford comma in the previous sentence: does it appear to be wagging its little head at you? That means I told you so.
But don’t get me started on apostrophes . . . .
Or elipses . . .
