(Alma) Ahhh, technology! Smartphones have unarguably streamlined and enhanced our communications — but so, too, have they created lots of opportunities for disastrous and hilarious miscommunications. Who among us hasn’t responded to a funny text with “gag” instead of “haha”?
Yes, autocorrect provides plenty of frustration — but just as many gems. Case in point: My cousin once invited me to meet his “old wombats.” He meant “roommates,” but I’ve saved a screencap of that conversation for years just for the laughs.
For Members of the Tribe, autocorrect presents a special challenge: typing Hebrew and Yiddish phrases. Smart as our smartphones may be, they’ve not yet mastered the art of multiculturalism. While my iPhone can manage “Shabbat shalom,” just about everything else in the Jewish realm is beyond its capabilities.
When I type: Mazal tov (“congratulations”)
My phone autocorrects to: Nasal tic
This is probably my most frequently typed Jewish term (I’ve got lots of friends who are gettin’ hitched and poppin’ out babies, I guess), yet for some reason, my phone has yet to catch onto it — and seems to autocorrect it to something different every time. This version happens to be my favorite, if only because I recently came thiiiiisclose to posting, “She’s beautiful. Nasal tic!” on a friend’s Instagram photo of her newborn daughter.
When I type: Rosh Hashanah
My phone autocorrects to: Roush has Hannah
One of the holiest days of the Jewish year, and my iPhone has the nerve to make it sound like some sort of hostage situation. (To be fair, I guess some people do feel that way about going to services on Rosh Hashanah…)
When I type: Yasher koach (“well done”)
My phone autocorrects to: Washer coach
Hey, you did a great job! Now wash my old-timey car, wouldja?
When I type: Mishpocha (“family”)
My phone autocorrects to: Mishap has
This feels appropriate, given that family gatherings are, in my experience, often rife with mishaps. Here’s a great and terrible example: On Thanksgiving a few years ago, one of my aunts took my other aunt’s two big dogs for a walk… and fell and broke her pelvis. That was the year we ate pie in the E.R. Mishpoca mishaps indeed!
When I type: Nachas (“pride”)
My phone autocorrects to: Nachos
In defense of my iPhone, this is an understandable autocorrect, and also, I wish I had more excuses to text about nachos. In fact, eating more nachos would bring me much nachas. New goal?
When I type: Matzah ball
My phone autocorrects to: May she ball
I’m pretty surprised, actually, that my phone doesn’t know “matzah.” After all, matzah ball soup, while still a darling of the Jewish people, has become just about as widely beloved as bagels and lox. Still, “may she ball” sounds like a kind of awesome blessing, the “Never the less, she persisted” of benedictions. Go forth and ball, ladies.
When I type: Schmutz (“dirt”)
My phone autocorrects to: Schnitzel
Autocorrecting one Jewish word into another? I can’t even be mad about this one — except that now I’m hungry. (I kindly request no schmutz on my schnitzel, though.)
When I type: Moshiach (“messiah”)
My phone autocorrects it to: Mod his home
This has me imagining that the eventual messiah will reside in a very hip and minimally decorated Frank Lloyd Wright mansion.
When I type: Boker tov (“Good morning”)
My phone autocorrects to: biker too
Can’t forget about those bikers. Good morning to Harley Davidson and Hell’s Angels and all the rest of you badasses, as well!
When I type: Refuah sh’leima (“Get well soon”)
My phone autocorrects to: Refuse Sharon’s
Well, that’s kind of rude. Sharon is just trying to send you her well-wishes.
When I type: Mensch (“good person”)
My phone autocorrects it to: Men’s hair
Fear not, toupeed men of the world! You need not have naturally flowing locks in order to be one of the good guys.
When I type: Shonde (“shame”)
My phone autocorrects to: Standard
I suppose this autocorrect is appropriate these days, when every other headline seems to be a shonde. You could even say it’s become… standard.
L’hitraot (see you soon), fellow Jews — or as my phone would try to make me say instead, “Hit raptors!”