LEND ME YOUR EAR: PERFECTION IS NOT THE MESSAGE OF EASTER

One frigid morning a little while back, our newspaper hit my door and jolted me half awake. Somehow, I found my way to the door and picked up the paper, turned the thermostat up, and went back to bed.

To stay awake until the chill was off, I switched the bedside radio on. First item of interest came from a town in Illinois: Permission had been granted to young riders to continue their "usage" of the horse trails.

Next, a weatherman failed to cheer me by saying the snow was "worster" in the East. A girl in a commercial followed with "I like pizza pretty badly." An announcer describing a shoot-out in an apartment building stated, "All tenants were shot where they were sitting."

To borrow a Barryism, I did not make this up. Moreover, I abandoned the radio in favor of the small black-and-white TV at the foot of my bed. The Olympic Games had ended, but the replays lingered on. My favorite weather forecaster, reporting from Norway with a map of the United States, was pointing to what he called "a gaggle of weather" all across the land.

Mark McEwen knows as well as anyone that "gaggle" refers to geese, but no doubt he was trying to conceal his shivers by riveting our attention elsewhere. For me, his gaggle of weather sufficed.

Presently, another of our countrymen covering the games said "There was less people supporting Tonya Harding than Nancy Kerrigan." Following which, still another related what would be highlighted "for the balance of the time." I turned the TV off, got up and set my mind on higher things. On a column for Easter -- about forgiveness.

Being an unreclaimable Anglophile, I was reminded at the nonce of Britain's most forgiving queen ever -- Queen Mum. Weeks earlier, I had watched a feature depicting Queen Mum's life in celebration of her 90th birthday. Her English was flawless, but not so that of her household staff. One recounted how in her childhood she "had went" to her secret garden and "would lay down" in the hedges in front of her little house. Another vowed she "had always did her best" by her staff.

Not once did Queen Mum lift an eyebrow or even wince at their grammar. Breeding tells. Of course, the Mum was a Queen, not a language columnist.

The Mum's Royal Family did not inherit her command of the English language, though Prince Charles deplores the demise of good usage all over the country. As I have noted earlier, both the heir to the throne and his mother say "I've got" for "I have" even in official parlance. A small offense, but less than royal.

To return to our less royal airborne speakers: I was surprised no end when I heard that young people in Illinois could continue their "usage" of the horse trails. "Usage" is largely limited to language. All riders must be content with merely "using" horse trails. Should we fine their announcer for allowing them to usage their trails?

Perhaps not. "Worster" struck me as far worse. Even grade-schoolers are taught that bad weather is either "worse" or the "worst" ever. Dare we hope the worst ever is behind us?

Surely the pizza company's writer of "I like pizza pretty badly" chose the worst words ever to typify pizza lovers, but we doubt that liking pizza pretty badly has had any effect on pizza addicts anywhere.

About those tenants who were shot where they were sitting -- this was impossible unless they were sitting bottoms up.

Lacking the qualities of a queen, I also take issue with "less people was." Having spent more than a decade on the distinction between "less" and "fewer", I have little hope of ever getting it across to those who need it. But once again, "less" denotes quantity or amount, as in an amount of sugar; "fewer" signifies number, as in a number of people. Need I repeat my objection to "people was"?

Finally, a gentle admonition against the use of "balance" when we mean "remainder." We may try to balance our checkbooks, and our government is trying desperately to balance trade with Japan and China. But to balance trade worldwide promises to be no more successful than my lifelong efforts to balance a checkbook. I know arithmetic, but I do not understand bankatric.

PERFECT BALANCE, pa-tient readers, is a product of Hills Bros Coffee. Unfortunately, as I discovered early on in my study of the English language, perfect balance in what is right and almost-right in the yeas and nays of proper English has not been achieved since before Dr. Johnson completed his famous Dictionary of the English Language in 1755. And scholars will remind me that it was never completed.

Accordingly, in this holy season, I humbly forgive all offenders of our beautiful if impossible language, and entreat their forgiveness as well.

HAPPY EASTER