Mystery of the Singular Gender-Neutral Possessive Pronoun

My co-workers generally think I'm an alright guy. Except for when I'm stubborn and disagreeable. Given the percentage of times when I'm right about the subject in question, you'd think that I'd have learned my lesson by now. Yet I do it anyway.

A few times over the last several months, we've had to edit some content for our company website. Each time, it seems like, a particular issue on English grammar comes up. Between us three, I go one way and the other two guys think the opposite. As a result, their way wins out, 2-1. (Stupid democracy.) Allow me to explain.

Suppose you have the following sentence:

"The chef lost ___ hat."

Now, assuming that the chef is a guy, the answer is clear: "The chef lost his hat." Likewise, if the chef is a she: "The chef lost her hat." But now let's assume we don't know the gender; after all the chef's name is Jessie, which could be male or female. With this curveball, now how do you complete that sentence?

Many people might say: "The chef lost their hat." That can't be right; the word "their" is plural, but there's only one chef. (This is what my co-workers thought was correct.)

The singular version of "their" is "its", but that doesn't make sense either: "The chef lost its hat." Sounds like the chef isn't human.

Another option is technically correct: "The chef lost his/her hat." But that sounds really clumsy to me, especially if you have to do this several consecutive times.

Old-school English profs (complete with tan elbow-patched corduroy blazers) might argue: "The chef lost his hat.", regardless of what gender the chef turns out to be, because masculinity is always dominant. That's not fair to the ladies.

So what's the right answer here? Anybody?

One More For The Road

February 2005: I become the proud owner of a 1994 Toyota Corolla, after my ridiculously awesome 1989 silver Jeep Comanche's transmission blows out on I-35E (that was one great truck; once owned by my grandfather).

December 2007: while driving some guys around for my buddy's bachelor party, a strange sound emanates from the front axle of my now profoundly beloved Corolla. I (unwisely?) choose to ignore it and drive on, but am slightly disturbed.

March 2008: Sounds come and go. I'm still alive, and I'm still ignoring them.

October 2008: It's too much to bear now. I take it to Firestone, where the service manager, shocked, asks, "Exactly HOW long have you been driving it like this?" Front struts and lower control arms need to be replaced. I replace the struts only, because apparently the latter isn't of utmost safety importance (although it was the cause of the nails-on-a-chalkboard grinding noise. The end is nigh.

December 2008/January 2009: On its last legs. I decide that a round trip around the perimeter of my own, lesser-known version of the Texas triangle (Dallas, Longview, Austin) will be its last, as my brother and I celebrate Xmas/New Years. So, I decide to dust off my camera (Which rarely is used; I always forget. Seriously, there's very little photographic evidence that I even exist.) and, in the interest of partially alleviating the intense nostalgia that will inevitably result once the car is gone, plan on taking some shots on the road. And you're in luck, you're about to see the results.

DISCLAIMER: My photography skills were substantially hampered by the fact that (1) I was simultaneously driving for many of the shots and (2) I am not my semi-pro photographer friend. Enjoy, to the best of your ability.


Me and the "golden oldie".


Profile.


Speedometer. Misleading, because the little pointer actually has gone around twice, translating to an actual speed of about 206 mph. Also, note the awesome mileage I racked up. All told, it stands at 161405, and will hopefully hit 200k for its future owner.


Duct tape holding a portion of the wheel well that mysteriously would break free and drag against the ground.


Rearview mirror. Will try to convince Pearl Jam to use this picture for an album cover on future prints of their album, Rearview Mirror. I am cautiously optimistic.


East Texas scenery. Doesn't get any better.

My brother arguing a topic of importance. I'm guessing something related to which Whataburger we should stop at on the way down to Austin.


From the passenger seat.


Hill country, out by Lago Vista, where we were looking for a disc golf course. If nothing else, it provided some good scenery.


Skyline, on the way back in to Big D.

So, late next week, Dallas Can Academy (a charity) will come haul it away, and, after some work on the engine and the wheel assembly (or whatever the technical term is), someone else will become the third proud owner of this marvel of Japanese automotive art. It really is funny how attached we can get to machines, but I guess the experiences associated with the car are what we are most attached to. Many, many road trips; countless songs played on CD/radio; people who sat in the passenger seat. Interesting.

"The sun rises, but the sun also sets."
- Ryan Adams

Radio Austin

The number one awesome thing about going to Austin for New Years': knowing someone who knows someone who owns a bar, so you get free drinks all night.

A close second: 107.1 KGSR, Austin Radio. It's provided some great listenin' in the car and at the office (they stream online, of course). A little bit of everything... Ziggy Marley to Stevie Ray Vaughn to the Wallflowers. Check it out.

CFCs of the New Millenium

Who knew solar cells would kill Earth?

Talk about going against conventional wisdom. I came across this article today, from which the following excerpt is taken:

"Many of the newest solar panels are manufactured with a gas that is 17,000 times as potent as carbon dioxide in contributing to global warming. Nitrogen trifluoride, or NF₃, is used for cleaning microcircuits during the manufacture of a host of modern electronics, including flat-screen TVs, iPhones, computer chips -- and thin-film solar panels, the latest (and cheapest) generation of solar photovoltaics."

It goes on to say that the Environmental Protection Agency, thinking only 2 percent of NF₃ would ever make it to where it could do damage in the atmosphere, actually encouraged its use. Now I'm not a mathematician or a, um, atmosphere...chemist...guy (even though I use sciency graphics that I steal from Wikipedia), but it seems to me that even if 2 percent of this stuff made it up to the sky that's still 340 times as much damage as the junk that's spewed from the back of our cars' tailpipes. Surely I'm oversimplifying that logic, but still.

It's so unexpected, because solar energy was supposed to have absolutely no emissions or any other adverse effects. The problem was that they were just so expensive. This obviously doesn't help the viability of solar cells. And given our growing dependence on "modern electronics" whose manufacture also uses NF₃, maybe it's time to find another fancy compound to do this dirty work for us.

Don't look at me -- I'm just a simple-minded software developer...

Wasting Away Again Here In Loserville

Fitting that 2008 here in the City of Athletic Heartbreak (a.k.a. Dallas) ended with a thud as the Cowboys lost to Philadelphia by a score of 173-6. I specifically remember being so excited when they handled the Green Bay No-Brett-Favres their first loss of the season to move to 3-0 and looked so invincible. They still looked decent at 8-4 with 4 games left, after Romo's pinkie fiasco. But alas, another December collapse did them in, and now all us Dallas-ites will watch the NFL playoffs with an air of apathy and complacence.


I got to thinking about how unbelievably tough it's been for DFW fan-dom. Take into consideration:

Exhibit A: The Dallas Cowboys. Since the Cowboys' last Super Bowl Victory 12 years ago, futility has pretty much dominated Texas Stadium. But the last three years have given us hope. That's a blessing and a curse, really, as da Boys cruised into the playoffs last year at 13-3 and home field advantage throughout, only to be rudely dismissed by Eli "Sure Wish I Could Host SNL Like My Brother Did" Manning and the New York Giants. That could at least be explained by the Giants' eventual Super Bowl victory over the evil Patriots. But the collapse this year, after so many NFL "experts" predicted great things for the Cowboys, has just been one more tease.

Exhibit B: The Dallas Mavericks. Since Mark Cuban took over as owner nearly 8 years ago, the Mavericks have the second-best record in the NBA, with the only exception of the boring ol' San Antonio Spurs (who by the way have won three titles in that span).

Since 2001, the Mavs, who were the butt of all NBA-related comedy in the 90's, have had no fewer than 51 wins every season. Not to mention some crazy-entertaining teams back in the Steve Nash era. I guess those players appreciated the PS2s and super-souped up TVs in their locker room, furnished by Mr. Cuban. But apparently, they didn't appreciate them enough to bring a championship home to Big D. In 2006, the Mavs came out on top of the Western Conference after knocking the Grizzlies senseless, eeking out an OT Game 7 win to top off the best non-finals playoff series in the history of the NBA over the Spurs, and riding Dirk's 50-point Game 5 performance to a 6-game beatdown of Nash's Phoenix Suns. Then, up 2-0 in the 2006 NBA Finals, the Miami Heat and the games' referees teamed up to send the Mavs home sans trophy. It was like all us Dallas-ites had been staring down a huge bounty of presents under the Christmas tree for weeks, only to eventually realize they had all been taken away on Christmas Eve by Bennett Salvatore. True story: I did not buy a Western Conference Championship t-shirt because I thought it'd be silly since they'd obviously be NBA champs a week later. Ooo, that hurt.

I feel your pain, Coach Johnson. And I need not mention their 66 win season in 2007 when they were ousted by 8-seeded Golden State and Baron Davis's beard in the most stultifying debacle in sports playoff history.

Things aren't looking especially good now, either, but us Mavs fans are so jaded and numb that we wouldn't really believe it even if it they actually did win a championship. But at least we still got Dirk, who, when he's on, can be the most fun player to watch in the NBA. Take that, LeBron. Official Josh-In-Real-Life Prediction: Mavs find themselves a 5-seed in the playoffs at 52 wins, 30 losses, and knock off Portland in the first round, only to be blasted by the Lakers in 5 games in the conference semis.

Interesting question: is it better to have your favorite team charge to the precipice of a championship, on the verge of being a part of sports legend, only to come crashing down right at the end of the journey (not to mention like 4 years in a row), or is easier to take if the team is perennially bad, and you never have the scent of near-glory in the first place?

Exhibit C: The University of Texas at Dallas. Still no Comet football, dammit. Temoc angry!


Exhibit D: The Texas Rangers. Outside of Josh Hamilton's 28 home run performance in the Derby, nothing has been right in Rangerland for probly 10 years. And I think we're still paying Alex Rodriguez's contract and will be until the end of the universe.

Exhibit E: The Dallas Burn / FC Dallas. At the risk of offending one particular soccer-loving reader of this blog, soccer is pretty much irrelevant in DFW once you reach the age of 9. Except when David Beckham is in town.

Hmm, think it's obvious from this blog's word allocation which sport I favor? So anyway, hopefully the law of averages will help us out in the next few years. Twelve years of futility is long enough here in Loserville.