A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.
You’ve likely heard the term “misplaced modifier” at some point in your life. Maybe you can spot one from a mile away, maybe you vaguely get the gist, or maybe you don’t have a clue and don’t care to because it’s just not relevant to your life. If the latter is you and you’re still reading, I’m going to venture a guess and say that your ego’s curiosity is getting the better of you. A small, strange part of you needs to know. What if it comes up in Jeopardy for goodness sake?
So here we are again at the bar. Frankly, all the best grammar jokes happen here so just sit back and order another brewsky. The night is still young and we have work to do.
It’s just after 6pm. I’ve got myself a summer shandy or a peach radler straight from the tap. Because I’m a light weight, I try to keep it light—especially in the summer. What are you having?
Our protagonist wanders absent-mindedly into the bar. Let’s call her Mimi, the double M. She’s our misplaced modifier. There’s something interesting about her and people start to stare. It’s not just the way she’s dressed—like she’s been beamed aboard the USS Enterprise from a far-off planet—it’s this air of carelessness with which she exists. She could be here, she could be there, she could be on the moon. It’s hard to describe.
The owner of the bar has his one good eye on her as she ponders different booths and tables, finally alighting herself at the bar. I am also seated at the bar waiting for a friend who is so late that I’ve consumed the happy hour beverage I ordered her rather than watch it get warm. I’m within ear shot of Mimi and trying to play it cool. You’re at the table just behind her. Do you see what I mean about the absent air about her?
It turns out Mimi’s a low-talker so it’s hard to make out why there’s this extended back-and-forth between her and the bartender. Eventually, he goes off to make her drink. I can’t help myself; I smile at her and ask her if she’s visiting town. She proceeds to tell me that she was walking in the woods and found a boat on a river made of wood. She quickly piled all of her clothes in the boat that she had packed when three men started to chase her with beards. This was two days ago and she said yesterday only she had lost them.
The bar owner came back with her drink. It appeared to have an orange slice, whipped cream, coke and a raw egg in it. No ice. I guess that’s what they were talking about for so long.
Mimi then told me she was happy to drink what the man had served her slowly. I was more than a little puzzled because she pounded the drink in about six seconds. Then she slapped a fiver on the bar and said, “Please tell Ralph I said goodbye. He was just kind.” I replied that I would, but that I was pretty sure the owner’s name was Fred. “No,” she said pointing at her eye, “his eye is Ralph.” And then she was gone.
“Fred, check please.”
Aren’t you glad you hung in there for this humdinger of a story? It’s ridiculous, I know. Poor Mimi is just a wandering modifier, not quite where she should be and trying every which way to fit in. As you’ve probably figured out, a misplaced modifier is a word, phrase, or clause that is improperly separated from the word or phrase it modifies or describes. The separation makes sentences with this error sound awkward, ridiculous, or confusing. The bar owner’s name is Ralph. I’m fairly certain he didn’t name his glass eye. And if he did, it’d obviously be called Harold. The person (bar owner) who is being described (his name is Ralph) is so far apart from his name (separated by the glass eye), that it’s easy to think that the name modified the eye (that the eye’s name is Ralph).
So what can we probably take away from Mimi’s story? Mimi may have been lost in the forest, but she did not find a river made of wood. She didn’t pack a boat, she packed her clothes. Men did not chase carrying beards, rather bearded men chased her. She never intended to drink her beverage slowly, but tried to comment on the time it took the bar owner to make and serve her the concoction. It’s all ridiculous.
Watch where you place your modifiers. It really does matter. “Three offices were reported robbed by the Atlanta police last week.” Assuming the Atlanta police did not do the robbing, you’d better say something like “Last week, the Atlanta police reported that three offices were robbed.” Got it?
And let’s take a peek at how one word placed in the wrong spot can mean something totally different. The word “just” for example, can be a doozy. Try explaining this to Mimi.
Just Barbara was chosen to give a speech at graduation. (Just denotes exclusivity. No one else was chosen.)
Barbara was just chosen to give a speech at graduation. (Just denotes time. This happened just a moment ago.)
Barbara was chosen just to give a speech at graduation. (Just denotes singularity. Most of the students had many tasks to perform, but Barbara only had one.)
And so my friends, do not feel bad about not being super sure what a misplaced modifier is. The odds of your teacher actually having explained it to you are pretty much nil. They just corrected that shit with a big red pen and moved on so you didn’t have a chance to know why the big red arrow was there. You just copied and pasted it to the “correct” spot and hit print once again. Take that, Miss Miller.
Lastly, don’t feel bad about occasionally misplacing a modifier. They sometimes go awry, especially when you’ve got a lot to say and describe and sentences start getting long. Just try to put them back where they belong. Otherwise, the grammar nerds at the bar are going to have a good time with you.
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Blog cartoon image from Mr. Funk’s Website here