I belong to this company that pays you to accept email ads.  It's not too annoying and right now, I have $76 built up in my account.  With all the advertising out there that I get bombarded with and offered no compensation, this is a welcome change.

About a month ago, I received an ad for a credit card.  Right now, to keep things under control, I only have one credit card.  It has a large enough limit that I don't need another.  But the only negative is that there's no rewards program.  Getting paid to charge instead of pay cash is also part of the American Dream, right?

So I took this ad up on its offer.  About two weeks later, the American Dreamcard from HSBC arrived in my mailbox.  I smirked as I opened the envelope.

Second grade.  Mrs. Mim's class.  It was a time of innocence and playfulness.  We were kids who knew nothing of the gas shortage or the real world.  The nation had not yet tasted inflation, political correctness hadn't been invented and computers were the size of an office building.  It was 1978; I was seven years old, and the friendships I forged then would last forever. 

Little did I know.

I've written about how our nation's spelling acuities have decreased since the advent of the internet.  As a people, we spell bad.  Real bad.  But something that often escapes us is how bad our grammar is.

Now granted, I have a Computer Science degree, not an English degree.  So in many instances, I'm as guilty as the rest of you.  But that is no excuse.  Bad grammar is bad grammar.