It has become common usage to tell someone when you want them to sign something, “Put your John Henry on that.” My understanding is that it should be “John Hancock” after one of the signers of the Constitution. It’s questionable that John Henry could write his name in his historical context.
I had a friend who consistently said, “That took the sails out of his wind.” One day I finally commented on it and she told me it was her little joke. I thought about it a moment and then got it.
I work with a couple people who always say that they’ll make sure we’re in agreeance with [the terms and conditions of our contracts]. Agreeance? Really?
Also, our division is a subsidiary of a larger company. Several of my coworkers, including the guy who does all of the outgoing messages for our voicemail, pronounce it subsiderary. Way to put our best foot forward, guys.
Uh…the deaf are legendarily bad spellers. There are even books on the subject like this one.
I believe that “carrot-and-stick” used to mean one thing but has been misused so much that it now means something else.
The original meaning was akin to “a promised reward that is always out of reach”. The owner of a mule tied a carrot to a stick and dangled it in front of the mule to get it to move forward. As the mule moved forward so did the stick and carrot.
Of course, the term now just means “reward and punishment”. It’s possible that this usage of carrot and stick arose from something other than the scenario I describe, but I doubt it. I can think of a lot of nice incentives for good behavior but a carrot isn’t one of them. And there are plenty of words that mean “a stick for punishment,” such as “crop” and “club” and “switch”.
It would be great if I could ascribe him that much couth.
You nailed it with the edit.
His biggest brag was that he had never read a chess book. Everybody he played had no problem believing that, since unorthodox was a gentle way of describing his play. Thing was, he was a lot like the guy who kept playing chess with his dog until one day a friend asked if the dog was any good. The player responded, “Not really. I’ll beat him four out of five times.”
Couple of guys on a sports message board I frequent have a derogatory name for players who think they’re too good to do mundane tasks, or the little things that help a team win.
They call them “pre-Madonnas.”
I’ve given up trying to make them see the error of their ways.
Really, cite?
Yeah, putting your John Henry on something should mean hitting it with a hammer. 
Is that really a common one now?
Is that like a ‘wax job’? (It blows the wax out of your ears! :eek: )
I don’t doubt you (and it doesn’t surprise me), but I’ve never heard this. Everyone who’s said it to me correctly says “John Hancock.”
I added the bolding.
First off, let me say that I agree that “homing in” is the proper term, like all the spies that plant homing signals on their enemies cars to find out where they go.
However, after thinking about it while reading Sailboat’s post, “home” seems like a bad term in both instances.
I’ve always thought that “home” is where someone is from. The only time I’ve heard of “home” being a goal is in baseball, where home plate is where you started and hope to get to again after rounding the bases.
And a missile that goes back to where it started isn’t a very effective missile.
psst…Declaration of Independence
I don’t have a cite, but that is what I have always thought it meant. I actually didn’t even understand it the other way (in other words, when people used it the other way, I didn’t understand that stick = beating…I just thought they were misunderstanding the original usage).
I seem to dimly remember an old fable or something about a mule with a stick and carrot tied in front of him. I’m not at all sure, though. ( I did find this cartoonon google images)
“Hone in on” drives me crazy.
As does “Let’s take a different tact.”
No, no, no! “Take a different TACK!” It’s a sailing metaphor.
I also hate it when people call a lectern a “podium”, but that’s a lost cause … .
I have a friend who mangles phrases on purpose all the time. He claims I’m the only one who ever notices, but I believe I’m the only one who doesn’t mind calling him on it.
Two of his favorites:
We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.
Six of one a dime a dozen.
It had quit being funny a long time ago, but I can’t refrain from deliberate botching of this one by saying, “We can drive off that bridge when we come to it.”
Others I botch on purpose:
A bargain at half the price.
A fool and his gold weigh more than just the gold.
It is better to sit idle than to do nothing at all.
Little things come in small packages.
In numbers there is quantity.
My dad mixed a couple and came up with a gem once. He was leading a school fund-raising effort and he wanted to let everyone know that if we came up a little short, the principal had a plan to help us hit our goal. I think he meant to say “Ace up his sleeve” but he was also thinking “Ace in the hole.” He wound up declaring that the principal had an “ace up his hole.”
:eek:
Lucky for everyone, we met the goal and didn’t need that ace.
One deliberate botch I like (not mine) is “Seven of one, half-dozen of the other,” which makes the point that two choices are rarely exactly equivalent.
The keys to a good botch are that (a) it’s clear the speaker understands what he’s saying, and is referring to the established phrase rather than corrupting it, and (b) the revision itself carries an additional relevant meaning.
Aaand, ignorance fought. Ah. Feels good to shake off a bit of ugly ignorance. Refreshing really.
Had it fucked up my whole life.
I’m one of those folks that believes if the language shifts and evolves, and people are still making themselves plainly understood, then it’s all good. I don’t dare correct them, and I don’t flinch when they use the ‘wrong’ words.
But, secretly, I like to know and use the so-called ‘right’ word or phrase.
Ted Kennedy:
“We’ll drive off that bridge when we come to it.”
