Would I Lie?

Yes, I know the “Lie-Lay” Train has left the station without me on it, but two recent misuses of these verbs were so egregious that I cannot forbear making a last-ditch effort. The cases in point:

1. The Houston Chronicle, the backbone of the Hearst newspaper empire, reported that the “body of Mrs. Bush will lay in state at St. Martin’s Episcopal Church.”

2. A few days later, a CNN on-line item related that the passengers on a Southwest Airlines plane, trying to rescue a woman sucked through a window when an engine blew out, “grabbed her and lay her on the floor.”

Those two usages, mirror opposites of each other in their wrongness, sound so painfully offensive to the ear that it’s difficult to imagine anyone, let alone a professional writer of the English language, thinking they were right. O, copy editors, where art thou?

One more time, allow me to point out:

In the present (or future) tense, lie means to “repose or recline, to be prone or supine.” (There’s a little mnemonic rhyme.) It also means simply to “be situated.” Mrs. Bush’s body will lie in state.

The past tense of lie is lay. Mrs. Bush’s body lay in state last week.

The past participle of lie is lain. Many important people have lain in state before they were buried.

OK, now then: lay in the present (or future) tense is an entirely different word. It means to “put or to place something.” The key here is “something.” Lay in the present (or future) tense requires an object. The rescuers are going to lay the woman on the floor.

The past tense of lay is laid. The passengers laid the woman on the floor.

The past participle of lay is also laid. The rescuers have laid the woman on the floor and are now back in their seats.

Of course, everyone knows—I pray I am correct—that lie, meaning to “tell an untruth,” comes from an entirely different root and has nothing to do with the words we are discussing. (This lie's past and past participle is lied.)

‘Nough said?

The Bard of Buffalo Bayou thinks he never says enough, and so he relentlessly offers this verse, which will be of no help whatsoever in remembering whether to use lie, lay, or laid.

            I was laid up, so I lay down           

            To lie low while I was sick.

            My boss rang up to lay me off,

            And I laid it on quite thick.

           

            But still my boss laid into me--

            That made me worse, no doubt.

            Now on my tomb, engraved, you’ll see:

            “Laid up, laid low, laid off, laid out.”

Hoist the Wenches!

 

The Houston Chronicle reported last week that a new sculpture depicting bird migration that is being installed at the George R. Brown Convention Center could be moved by an elaborate system of wenches. The story did not specify how many wenches were involved or how they came to be employed for this unusual purpose. During times when there is no need to move the sculpture, I presume the wenches will be put to work at other tasks more suitable to their qualifications. I’m sure they’ll be especially busy when conventioneers are in town.

The same rapidly thinning newspaper also stated recently that an engineer was pouring over the plans for a new freeway system. With typical lack of detail, it did not specify what the engineer was pouring over the plans, or why. It could have been water, milk, beer, oil, Koolaid, or any one of hundreds of other liquids, for all I know. I do think responsible journalists should report the full story.

On a final note, it was not the Chronicle but the New York Times that reported that someone was advised to lay low. What was to be laid and how low it was to be laid were of no concern to the Times’ feckless correspondent. Details, good Old Gray Lady, please!

The Bard of Buffalo Bayou has plans for a system of wenches for his bedroom, where he could be laid as low and as often as he liked. Unfortunately, he poured Chardonnay over his plans and now they’re all wet. 

            There once was a wench from Missouri, 
            Who disposed of a guy in a fury. 
                        But she claimed self-defense 
                        To twelve upright gents 
           And charmed the pants off that jury!

 

Recumbent Lie vs. Setdown Lay

In this corner, the reigning intransitive champion of the English-speaking world, Recumbent Lie. And in the opposite corner, the feisty challenger, the transitive champion, Setdown Lay. Lay has been trying to overcome Lie since the 14th century and is making great headway. According to Bryan Garner in A Dictionary of Modern American Usage, the use of lay when lie is correct is the most frequent mistake made in the English language.  Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary is almost (but not quite) prepared to throw in the towel: “Some commentators,” says the lexicon, “are ready to abandon the distinction.”  But it cautions, “…even though many people do use lay for lie, others will judge you unfavorably if you do.” 

In the simplest terms lie means “to recline” or “or to be situated.”  People and objects may both lie: You lie on the floor of the saloon. The empty whisky bottle lies next to you. Lay means “to put or set [something] down.” One may lay both people and objects: I will pick you up and lay you on the sofa.  Then I will lay the whisky bottle on the bar. 

The confusion between the two is caused by how the verbs are declined. (For a definition of decline, see The Decline and Fall of the Woman Umpire.) The past tense of lie is lay, and the past participle is lain.  Lay’s past tense and past participle are both laid.  So if you lie on the floor in the present, and lay on it in the past—some people will naturally, though incorrectly, assume that you can lay on it the present as well. 

Both Messrs. Lie and Lay, by the way, hope that you will not confuse them with other similar-sounding verbs.  Prevaricating Lie, whose past tense and past participle are both lied, does not even stem from the same root as Recumbent Lie.  And Setdown Lay’s cousin, the disreputable Getz Laid, has been disowned by the family as too vulgar for words.

Ken Lay and Frito-Lay do not enter into this discussion.   

Always eager to add to the confusion, the Bard of Buffalo Bayou hopes these

demonic, mnemonic verses will be just the ticket:

                                                I.

            The lazy farmer’s wife declared, “You layabout—

            Get up, go buy a chicken coop on layaway.

            Don’t lie to me about the cash that you lay out,

            My hens must have a decent place to lay.”

                                               

                                                II.

            I was laid up, so I lay down           

            To lie low while I was sick.

            My boss rang up to lay me off,

            And I laid it on quite thick.

           

            But still my boss laid into me--

            That made me worse, no doubt.

            Now on my tomb engraved you’ll see:

            “Laid up, laid low, laid off, laid out.”