Bob's your uncle (but I thought his name was Robert)

 I recently became intrigued with names. My dad's brother was Robert Casey, but I always called him Uncle Bob. And I have a friend named James, but we all call him “Little Jimmy.” And everyone knows a Dick, but in all probability was christened Richard. Hi, I’m Travis, but call me Steve. (Just kidding)

The search led me to something interesting. Many of these nicknames originated in Medieval England. As history shows us, the popular names of the era were: Richard, William, John, and Henry—which must have made roll call sound less like attendance and more like someone testing the echo in a castle. Richard the first, Richard the second, Richard the third ….

With so many Richards, Williams, Johns, and Henrys around, it was difficult to know who you were talking about. It was like yelling “Mom” at a family reunion. So rhymes came into play. Richard was cool until you got to about Richard III, or Henry VIII, but who wants to be known as William XXVII?

To distinguish your brother Richard from your neighbor Richard or your adversary Richard, they dubbed one of them Rich (logical), then to a variant cousin, Rick. Eventually, the kings and knights went to identifying friends and foes with rhymes. Now there was a Hick and Dick. Dick stuck. Hick moved into the country without an education. Robert was initially rhyming with Hob and Dob (derived from Rob) until Bob finally stuck around and even gave us Bobby. So, William, Will, Bill, was not that far of a journey. So far, so good, right?

Then we get to conundrums like John to Jack. Why do we call John F. Kennedy Jack? They don’t rhyme! But we still go back to Medieval England. This has to do with a popular "pet" form of names where folks added "kin" as a suffix. William was Wilkin. Peter was Perkin. You can still see these nicknames today in surnames like Wilkinson and Perkins. John would have been changed to Jenkin. That could have easily been shortened to Jenk, which is a quick trip to Jack. Another theory points back to the Norman invasion and the arrival of the name Jacques, which is actually the French form of James, not John. But the cultural mingling of Jenk and Jacques could have been enough to produce Jack from John.

James to Jim? The path is roughly: James → Jamie/Jemmy → Jimmy → Jim. In English, people often made familiar “pet forms” by adding -y or -ie, so James became Jamie or Jimmy. King James’ heir became Prince Jamie, his son Little Jimmy- why not just call him Jim?

Hank? Can you rock? Can you rock to the rhythm that just don’t stop? (Sorry. That was rap from the Sugarhill Gang circa 1978.) But in Middle English, Henry was often pronounced closer to “Herry,” which sounded a lot like “Harry,” especially in everyday speech. The name came into England through the Normans from forms like Henri, and over time English speakers softened and shifted the sound. Medieval spelling was flexible, so the same person might appear under slightly different forms. English often turned formal names into familiar versions that sounded easier in speech. So, in short: Harry is what Henry sounded like once Medieval English got comfortable, loosened its belt, and stopped trying to sound formal.

Hank is more an Americanism that evolved as a nickname for Henry through a linguistic bridge via the Dutch name Hendrik and its diminutive Henk. When Dutch settlers brought these names to America, "Henk" sounded phonetically similar to "Hank" to English speakers, eventually replacing earlier medieval formalities.

Since I’m not writing a dissertation on name variations, I’ll cut it off now and hope I’ve shared some enlightenment. Mostly that Medieval history is more than dark age mysteries, but customs that have stood the test of time some 700 years later. Which proves that if you give English enough centuries, it will turn a perfectly good name into a nickname, a nickname into a riddle, and then act like you should have known all along.

But I would be remiss if I didn’t address the title of this article. “Bob’s your uncle” is a British term often used to indicate success, such as: “Add the flour, stir in the eggs, bake it for twenty minutes, and Bob’s your uncle—you’ve got muffins.” It originates in late-19th-century Britain and involves Robert “Bob” Gascoyne-Cecil, who was Prime Minister. In 1887, “Bob” appointed his nephew, Arthur Balfour, to the powerful post of Chief Secretary for Ireland. Critics believed Balfour got the job largely because “Bob” was his uncle—so the phrase supposedly came to mean that if Bob’s your uncle, success is conveniently arranged.

http://www.traviscasey.com/

Ship Happens: More Idioms from the Sea

 

Some phrases are basically old ship rules that escaped into society. “Show your true colors” comes from naval flags: ships identified themselves by flying national colors, though less friendly vessels sometimes tried a last-minute flag swap and didn’t show their true colors. And when someone tells you to “pipe down,” they’re borrowing from the boatswain’s pipe—an actual whistle used to signal commands. Translation: “Stop using your voice; we have a dedicated instrument for that.”

Then we have people who are loose cannons. Today it means a reckless, unpredictable person—the coworker who replies-all during a crisis, or the uncle who treats Thanksgiving dinner like a political debate with gravy. On old warships, cannons were massive iron brutes secured by ropes. If one broke loose in rough seas, it could crash across the deck, smashing equipment, ribs, morale, and anything else foolish enough to be nearby. A loose cannon was not just inconvenient. It was a two-ton workplace injury with wheels.

Then there is all hands on deck, which now means everybody is needed immediately. On a ship, “hands” meant crew members, because sailors were apparently valued by the useful parts attached to their arms. When the cry went out, every available person was expected to report to the deck and help. Nobody got to say, “I’m more of an ideas guy.” At sea, the storm does not care about your preferred work style.

Above board means honest, open, and not sneaky. The nautical image is simple: anything happening above the deck was visible. Anything hidden below could be suspicious, especially if pirates were involved, which they often were in the better stories. If your dealings were above board, everyone could see what you were doing. If they were below board, someone was probably hiding weapons, contraband, or the office birthday card they forgot to sign.

We also say someone is high and dry when they have been abandoned or left helpless. Originally, it described a ship stranded out of the water, stuck on shore or a sandbar after the tide went out. A ship belongs in water. When it is high and dry, it is about as useful as a lawn ornament with rigging. That image eventually became a handy way to describe anyone left without help, resources, or a ride home from the airport.

Give someone a wide berth also comes from ships. A berth is space for a vessel to maneuver or anchor safely. Ships are large, stubborn objects, and asking them to make sudden graceful movements is like asking a refrigerator to tango. So captains gave other ships, rocks, docks, and general disaster plenty of room. Today, we give a wide berth to suspicious people, bad moods, wet dogs, and anyone standing in a grocery aisle reading every ingredient on every brand of mustard.

Finally, there is in the same boat, meaning people share the same situation or problem. On land, we can pretend our problems are private. On a ship, if the vessel is leaking, everyone is suddenly very interested in teamwork. Nobody gets to say, “That hole is more of a you issue.” The phrase reminds us that shared trouble has a way of turning strangers into colleagues, neighbors, or at least people frantically passing buckets.

That may be why nautical idioms have lasted so long. Life on a ship was cramped, dangerous, practical, and full of colorful language—basically a family vacation with worse food and more rope. Sailors needed short, vivid phrases because long explanations are not helpful when the deck is tilting, the cannon is loose, and somebody is shouting that all hands are required immediately. English kept the phrases because they still work. We may not be at sea, but we are all trying to stay afloat, avoid loose cannons, and give certain people a wide berth.

Idioms We’ve Been Saying Wrong or on Porpoise

I had a friend who mixed his idioms but somehow still made sense. Sayings like: Don’t put all your eggs in one basket because they might hatch before you can count them. And after a certain period of time, one could not be prosecuted for a crime because the statue of eliminations ran out. And I could never blame this guy for anything because he didn’t want to be the escape goat. And of course, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him swim upstream.

I’m sure we’ve all mixed up some sayings in our time. Personally, for years I said that things meant in every practical sense were for all intensive purposes instead of the correct saying, “for all intents and purposes.” Which is embarrassing, because “intensive purposes” sounds like your goals at the gym to lose twenty pounds.

And if you cannot be tried for a crime because of an expired legal time limit, the statute of limitations has run out, whereas a statue of limitations would just stand there quietly judging your inability to sue.

Years ago, I thought if something was handled in one go, it was taken care of in one foul swoop, which sounds less like efficiency and more like a chicken with digestive issues. The correct phrase is one fell swoop, and it comes from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. In the play, Macduff uses it after learning his family has been murdered, comparing the act to a hawk swooping down and killing defenseless birds in one savage strike. Here, fell means fierce or deadly—not fallen, not foul, and not a lumberjack taking down a pine tree before lunch. Today we use it to mean doing something all at once, usually with fewer murders and considerably less poetry.

Here are some idioms people often get wrong—and some are simply the spelling giving a different meaning yet sounding the same:

• Nip it in the bud
  Often misheard as: nip it in the butt
  Meaning: Stop a problem early, before it grows.
  Difference: “One is gardening. The other is assault.”
• I couldn’t care less
  Often said as: I could care less
  Meaning: You care so little that caring less is impossible.
  Difference: “If you could care less, then congratulations—you still care.”
• Another think coming
  Often said as: another thing coming
  Meaning: You need to rethink your assumption.
  Difference: “Though honestly, ‘thing’ has become so common it may have bullied its way into acceptance.”
• Bated breath
  Often written as: baited breath
  Meaning: Breath held in suspense. (bated meaning moderated or restrained. with bated breath = with breath drawn in or held because of anticipation or suspense)
  Difference: “Baited breath sounds like you’ve been chewing minnows.”
• Champing at the bit
  Often said as: chomping at the bit
  Meaning: Eager or impatient to begin.
  Difference: “Horses champ; toddlers chomp.”
• Home in on
  Often said as: hone in on
  Meaning: Move toward or focus on a target.
  Difference: “You hone a knife. You home in on the dessert table.”
• Moot point
  Often misheard as: mute point
  Meaning: A debatable or irrelevant point.
  Difference: “A mute point refuses to speak, which frankly improves many meetings.”
• Pique my interest
  Often written as: peak/peek my interest
  Meaning: Stimulate curiosity.
  Difference: “Your interest is not climbing a mountain or looking through blinds.”
• Deep-seated
  Often said as: deep-seeded
  Meaning: Firmly established.
  Difference: “Unless your resentment is growing tomatoes, it is not deep-seeded.”
• Whet your appetite
  Often written as: wet your appetite
  Meaning: Sharpen or stimulate desire.
  Difference: “To whet means sharpen. To wet your appetite sounds like soup went wrong.”
• Toe the line
  Often written as: tow the line
  Meaning: Obey rules or conform to expectations.
  Difference: “Toe means put your foot on the line. Tow means you brought a truck.”
• Sleight of hand
  Often written as: slight of hand
  Meaning: Skillful trickery, especially with the hands.
  Difference: “A slight of hand sounds like your palm insulted someone.”
• Free rein
  Often written as: free reign
  Meaning: Freedom to act, from loosening a horse’s reins.
  Difference: “Unless you’ve been crowned king of the conference room, it’s rein, not reign.”
• One and the same
  Often written as: one in the same
  Meaning: Two things are actually the same thing
  Difference: “one in the same” sounds like one thing has crawled inside another thing and is living there rent-free.
•  Scapegoat
  Often written as “escape goat”
  Origin: Scapegoat means someone blamed for something they may not be responsible for. The word comes from an ancient biblical ritual in which one goat was sacrificed and another was sent into the wilderness carrying the sins of the people. In other words, the goat got blamed, exiled, and probably left wondering why everyone suddenly had theological beef with livestock. People often mishear it as escape goat, which is understandable, since the goat did technically escape. But the correct word is scapegoat—the original poor creature assigned everyone else’s problems and then told to take a hike.

·      
·       AND BREIFLY:

·       “Take it for granite” → Correct phrase: “Take it for granted.”
Meaning: Fail to appreciate something because you assume it will always be there.

·       “Biting my time” → Correct phrase: “Biding my time.”
Meaning: Waiting patiently for the right moment.

·       “Deep-seeded” → Correct phrase: “Deep-seated.”
Meaning: Firmly established or deeply rooted.

·       “Hunger pains” → Correct phrase: “Hunger pangs.”
Meaning: Sharp feelings of hunger.

·       “Pass mustard” → Correct phrase: “Pass muster.”
Meaning: Meet the required standard.

·       “Case and point” → Correct phrase: “Case in point.”
Meaning: An example that proves or supports what was just said.

·       “Beckon call” → Correct phrase: “Beck and call.”
Meaning: Always ready to obey or respond.

·       “Extract revenge” → Correct phrase: “Exact revenge.”
Meaning: Carry out revenge.

·       “Shoe-in” → Correct phrase: “Shoo-in.”
Meaning: Someone or something almost certain to win or succeed.

Over the Hill and Picking Up Speed

 

It’s funny how we spend our whole lives trying to achieve something. We have goals and ambitions. We strive to get our prize. That thing that will fill our desire, feed our ego, and satisfy our pride. We spend our youth heading uphill, fighting gravity, ambition, acne, bad decisions, and eventually office politics. Then, if we’re lucky, we reach the top and enjoy the view for approximately somewhere between seven minutes to ten years before someone hands us reading glasses and a cholesterol pamphlet. Once we begin down the far side, we are said to be “over the hill.” It doesn’t mean we’re finished, exactly—just that gravity has joined the conversation and is pulling us down the other side.

That’s a fairly easy concept to grasp. But why are we said to be getting “long in the tooth?” The phrase comes from horses. As horses age, their gums recede, and their teeth appear longer. People who bought, sold, or judged horses could estimate a horse’s age by looking at its teeth. So if a horse was “long in the tooth,” it was getting old. Eventually, English did what English always does: it looked at a practical livestock detail and said, “Let’s use that on Grandma.”

Unless they are a thoroughbred racing in front of tens of thousands of excited fans, most horses have a pretty mundane life: eat hay, stare over fences, swat flies, and occasionally pretend a canvas sack hanging around their neck full of feed is the equivalent of being a mountain lion devouring its prey in the open plains of Midwest America. Once a race horse is no longer in its peak form and can’t preform well enough to bring home the trophies, they are put out to pasture so they too can eat grass, stare over fences, etc.

I do not consider myself “long in the tooth,” but I’ve certainly been around the block—several times, in fact, and maybe once or twice I may have taken a wrong turn and have endured life experiences that have either made me wiser to life’s challenges or become too embarrassing to share with anyone who has had less than six drinks of strong whiskey. The phrase simply means I’ve lived long enough, seen enough, and made enough mistakes to recognize a bad idea even when it shows up wearing a tie, carrying a clipboard, and calling itself an “opportunity.” The origin is easy to picture: someone who has been around the block has been out in the world instead of standing on the porch waiting for instructions. They know the streets, the shortcuts, the suspicious alleys, and which neighbors borrow tools permanently. So when we say a person has “been around the block,” we mean they have experience—not necessarily wisdom, but enough mileage to know when life is trying to sell them an extended warranty on something they never bought.

After going over the hill, getting long in the tooth, and being around the block, a fellow may eventually find him or herself at death’s door. The phrase means very near death, though it is also used by men with mild fevers who believe their wives should gather the children and prepare final remarks. The origin comes from the old image of death as a doorway or threshold—the final entrance a person reaches at the end of life. For centuries, writers and preachers described death as a gate, door, or passage into whatever comes next. So when someone is “at death’s door,” he is imagined standing on the porch of eternity, knocking politely and hoping nobody answers.

And since we’ve made a turn toward darkness, let me leave you with why my wife has banned me from saying “bless you” or the even more damning “God bless you” when she sneezes. Apparently, my tone makes it sound less like a blessing and more like I’m signing a medical release to “pull the plug.” The custom of blessing someone who sneezes dates back to the 6th century during a plague outbreak—kind of like COVID on steroids, except with worse hygiene and fewer people arguing on the internet. Sneezing was thought to be a sign of imminent death, which seems dramatic until you remember they were dealing with plague, not seasonal allergies and a dusty box of Christmas decorations. Pope Gregory I decreed that people say “God bless you” as a quick prayer of protection whenever someone sneezed, but more than likely, you were on your way out.

Of course, if the sneezer was already halfway to meeting his maker, the blessing may have arrived a day late and a dollar short—an Americanism that means too late and not enough. Missing a deadline by a day or coming up short by a dollar are both small failures—but together they form a tidy little disaster. It’s what happens when you finally show up with a solution, only to discover the problem has already packed its bags, left town, and charged you a convenience fee.