Putting the word to rights

Tourists in Washington are always looking for something: monuments, the Mall, the president, their hotel.

On a recent visit Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson were no different, except that they were seeking something smaller and more subtle, a prize that could win you favours from an English teacher but has no place on a traditional postcard.

"We are with the Typo Eradication Advancement League," Deck said to a surprised waiter at Bistro Bistro in Dupont Circle, presenting a business card.

The 30-year-old in the Indiana Jones-style hat explained that he had noticed a missing "p" in the "red snapper" written on the menu board outside.

"It reads `snaper'," Deck added helpfully.

The TEALsters offered to fix the mistake, using the correction kit that dangled from Deck's waist.

The waiter graciously accepted the assistance, admitting that he himself had probably omitted the consonant, his focus wavering because he was fasting.

He then asked whether Deck, the designated artist of the two, could "put some decoration" on the board as well.

Chalk in hand, Deck plugged in the missing letter, then sketched a small fish beside the name of the dish.

Another typo banished.

"Once you start, it's really hard to stop," said Deck of his multi-state typo pursuit.

"It's in some part of my brain at all times, but it's not interfering with my enjoyment of places."

Two years ago, Deck heard the call of the road, a siren that sounded strangely like a stern grammarian.

Groomed as an editor, he was sensitive to the literary mistakes that litter signs in the United States, menus and placards.

Living in Somerville, Massachusetts, he was constantly mocked by a sign that read, "No Tresspassing".

To redress these errors, he embarked on a 10-week-long, 33-state journey with a rotation of friends who would help him clean up the grammatical rubbish.

One friend, Herson, joined him for two legs: suburban Washington to Los Angeles, and Madison, Wisconsin, to Somerville.

The two friends from Dartmouth College spun their experiences into the book The Great Typo Hunt: Two Friends Changing the World, One Correction at a Time.

"Jeff wanted to see the country, and he needed a reason.

"He didn't want to be a hedonist," said Herson (30), who again plays the sidekick during their 36-city book tour.

"I confess that I was in it for the road trip, but his obsession grew on me."

For fixing mistakes, Deck carried with him a transparent satchel filled with marking pens in multiple colours, correction fluid, chalk and crayons.

In many cases, they would stealthily fix the errors, but now they ask for permission.

"It's about beautifying the textual landscape," said Herson, picking up a piece of litter on Connecticut Ave to illustrate the similarities between stray wrappers and typos.

They stopped short outside a liquor store.

A sheet of paper taped to the window spelled out "Spirt" twice.

The guys pointed out the mistake to the proprietor, offering to add the vowel.

She demurred, saying that her husband would take care of it, then asked whether they laminated signs.

"That was a good reaction, but the real crowning glory is if we could have actually fixed it," said Deck, who has experienced responses ranging from sweet (the woman at a shoe store in Manchester, New Hampshire, transformed an erroneous apostrophe into a sprinkling of stars) to gruff (a chef at an Albany, New York, fair rudely rejected their offer, then ignored them).

The book is an illuminating hybrid of travelogue, English usage textbook and sociological experiment.

In Atlanta, for instance, Deck and Herson come across T-shirts of Barack Obama's (pre-election) image with the tag line, "He's black and Im Proud".

The missing apostrophe sparks a lively conversation with the vendor that touches on politics and race.

In New Orleans, they are charmed by Louisianans' warmth and spirit, and in Santa Fe, New Mexico, by the city's individuality.

"Typos are really an interesting lens to viewing a place," Deck said.

"And typos really are universal. We all make mistakes."

Deck and Herson made one giant blunder, although not a grammatical one.

At the Grand Canyon, on a supposed day off from hunting, they innocently altered a sign at the Desert View Watchtower.