Old habits r hard 2 break

"The Elements of Style" -- the elegant little book on correct writing -- celebrated its 50th anniversary last week.

I have an original 1959 printing, courtesy of my father, also a writer.

During my many years as a newspaper man, "The Elements of Style" and "The Associated Press Stylebook" were my sacred texts. Any question about how to write something or about usage had an answer in one or the other.

The AP Stylebook has been updated many times over the years. Back in 1984, for example, it did not have a reference for the Internet.

"The Elements of Style," by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White, hasn't changed too much. It's in its fourth edition, having been updated last in 1999.

As a Baby Boomer who's making a concerted effort to navigate his way online, I find it hard to unlearn the style of Strunk and White in favor of the shorthand style that electronic communication sometimes demands.

I always want to write in complete sentences. I always want to have a subject and verb. I always want to use proper punctuation, and proper capitalization and proper voice. I always want subject/verb agreement and noun/pronoun agreement.

Email became the first excuse to write in a tone and manner that was both abbreviated and, quite frankly, often lacking in style. It became worse as we exchanged emails using the BlackBerry keyboards, and it became worse still when we began texting off the cellphone keypad.

The new ways we write to to each other cramp the style of "The Elements of Style."

Are became r. To became 2. Oh, my God became OMG. Honestly, I need a glossary to help me sort through it in the same way I needed "The Elements of Style" and the AP stylebook.

But I refrain from using the abbreviated language of cellphone texting at a 160-character limit and the micro-blog Twitter at 140 characters.

I won't substitute the online shorthand for the words. You won't see me use SWAK for sealed with a kiss.

I actually find myself becoming a better writer and self-editor. By using whole words within a character-limited box, I shrink my thinking about what I want to say to its essence. Say it, say it clearly and say it in 140 characters or less. It's the haiku challenge of online communication.

"Omit needless words," Strunk and White advise.

Needless words, indeed.

At 55, I feel a kinship to my 50 year old book: We're both a bit dog-eared and maybe a little outdated, but still fundamentally sound.