Well now, I admit I've used I've used incorrect grammar in some of my poems, usually because the speaker was a person who might not be expected to have been initiated into the mysteries of the irregular verb. "Knowed" comes to mind, because it rhymes with "slowed". It was poetic license. I can't do anything like that right now because I was recently stopped while reciting too fast and my poetic license was suspended. (Ba-DUM-ching!)

Having confessed, however, I wish to take issue (in the politest possible way, of course) with all who have said that the language is evolving and what was not permissible before may now be permitted because it's the way we all talk to each other. The so-called "evolution" of the language is in fact decay. Many young people today are unaware of the fact that they don't know how to speak proper English. A high-school senior of my acquaintance told me the other day, "Me and Becky seen you at the book store, but you was too far away to get your attention." She is a dear child and means well, but forsooth! She's been through twelve years of school and they "seen" me? Words failed me then and they fail me now. People who know how to speak properly may take liberties (Mark Twain is a prime example). People who never learned how have nothing to apologize for. People who have the tools and refuse to use them should be boiled with their own syntax and buried with an OED through their hearts.

There are of course exceptions. Anyone who thinks good English and slang can't co-exist peacefully (and for a purpose) should read P. G. Wodehouse. And I think great oratory could be excused an occasional lapse -- Winston Churchill was once taken to task for splitting an infinity in a speech and replied, "That is the sort of arrant pedantry up with which I will not put." The point is, he knew the difference and made an informed decision about how best to convey his meaning.

And while I'm ranting, may we reintroduce the phrase "You're welcome" into common usage? I get so tired of saying "Thank you" to someone for some service they have rendered, a server in a restaurant, for example, and being told "No problem." I may not care if what I asked for was problem -- in fact I may have thought it might be some trouble so I took pains to express my appreciation.

Please let us not allow the language of Lord Acton and Edward Everett to degenerate into grunting noises.

There. That's as many words as I've spoke since I've knowed you.