In New Jersey, well, we aren't spellers. And this word is our most misspelled — Ervolino

Today’s word, also known as the most misspelled word in the Garden State, is…

Well, you’ll have to guess.

Clue 1: It’s a number.

Clue 2: You’ll find it in the salad dressing aisle of your favorite grocery store.

Clue 3: It’s referenced in most history books that mention Helen of Troy: “Her face launched this many ships.”

Clue 4: You’ll find it in scores of timeworn phrases, from “batting this many” to “cast of this many” to “a picture is worth this many words.”

OK, time’s up.

According to a recent study that used Google trends data, the most misspelled word in the state of New Jersey is “thousand.”

(Sorry if I gave you too many clues. As we say here in Far East Jersey, “a thousand and one apologies.”)

The timing of this spelling study probably wasn’t accidental, since so many kids have returned to school in the last two weeks.

Some of these kids will begin learning how to spell this year. A couple will become spelling bee champions. Many more will never, ever, ever learn to spell.

Even worse: They won’t care.

As someone who has earned his daily bread as a writer and editor, I’m endlessly concerned about other people’s communication skills.

Does that mean I’m one of those annoying creeps who scold people for their spelling errors?

I used to be. Eventually, though, I stopped because, like everyone else, I have some “problem words” of my own.

I’ve been told this is due to a mental block, like not remembering the date of your wedding anniversary, or your license plate number, or the names of your children, or whether you even have children.

Words I often spell incorrectly include “recommend,” “broccoli” and “hypocrite.”

I’ve also frequently  misspelled “misspelled” — with one “s” instead of two.

Related:Don’t know Y: Even after summer school, I never learned algebra — Bill Ervolino

And don’t get me started on “Czechoslovakia,” a country that, in 1993, was split into two sovereign states, the Czech Republic and Slovakia. They are not U.S. states, however, so they didn’t make the list.

Among those that did: North Carolina, where the most misspelled word is “multiplication.” In Utah, it’s “boutonniere.” And in Minnesota it’s “paparazzi.”

Understandable?

Sure. What I can’t understand is that the most frequently misspelled word in Idaho is — are you sitting down? — “Idaho.”

Isn’t it stamped on every potato?

I’m also baffled by the people of New Mexico, Alaska and California being unable to spell staples like “bologna,” “cheese” and “tomato,” respectively.

As for “thousand,” if some Jerseyans  don’t spell it correctly, how DO they spell it?

“Thousind?” “Thoosand?”

Just thinking about it gives me a headache.

A few years ago, a noted writer, professor and longtime friend told me that we (the world) seemed to be entering a “post-literate era.”

She attributed this to Spell Check, autocorrect and kids who intentionally misspell and shorten words, just for the hell of it.

Ervolino:Should grown men wear shorts in public? I’m gonna go with NO

As my friend explained, “They drop vowels, write things out phonetically ... they’re basically rewriting the English language to suit themselves.”

Sure enough, a few years ago on social media, I noticed that many younger people had begun shortening “OK” to “K.”

Why?

Was including the “O” really so time-consuming?

This bizarre shorthand coincided with the rise of the millennial acronyms LOL, OMG, IDK and scores of other increasingly tiresome shortcuts brazenly culled from our appallingly tortured and abused alphabet.

All of this became very personal for me around 2009, when my niece Talia got her first cellphone and began texting her friends, her parents and me. Naturally, I had to learn to text, too, or risk never communicating with her again.

In late November of that year, she and her parents were attending the Christmas show at Radio City Music Hall. So, that afternoon, I texted, “Having fun?”

Her irksome response: “Suckkks,. Im sick. Its cold raning and Im wearing a swat shirt and caprese.”

Using my extraordinary powers of observation — sharpened by years of watching Sherlock Holmes movies — I was quickly able to determine that it was raining in New York City and that she was wearing a sweat shirt and Capri pants.

“Caprese” is, after all, a salad consisting of tomatoes, basil and mozzarella. And no one in Manhattan wears salad after Labor Day.

In the past, any time I tried pointing out my niece’s spelling goofs, she struck back with “Whatever” — the teenager equivalent of “go jump in a lake.”

It took a while before her mother — my sister-in-law Joyce — told me that Talia had impeccable spelling. (In school.)

As for the irritating spelling in those texts, Joyce added, “All kids do this now. If you correct them, it means you’re an old fogey and they’re cool.”

Hmm…

With that in mind, I didn’t respond to the “caprese” text.

An hour later, Talia wrote, “Arent you gunna correck my spelling?”

In an effort to be youthful, cool and annoying I wrote back, “Whever.”

This article originally appeared on NorthJersey.com: Ervolino: New Jersey isn't known for its spelling ability