My grammar always said
Please stop running the gambit and towing the line, because I could care less.
I love words, but I have noticed that we are not all using them the same way. For example:
It’s toe the line, not tow.
This phrase most likely dates to the early 18th century, when members of the British Royal Navy had to line up for inspection on deck, with their toes all lined up along the same plank. This is not to be confused with the 1970s folk song, “One Toke Over the Line,” which was inspired by a band member who had smoked one joint too many.
It’s cut and dried, not cut and dry.
The preferred expression is “cut and dried,” which has been around since the 17th century and was adapted from herb shops, where the goods were offered fresh, or harvested and dried. These days we use it to mean something straightforward or routine — i.e., the opposite of fresh.
Is it card sharp or card shark?
Either one. Both will hustle you in a card game. Although you never hear about pool sharps or loan sharps.
The words “sharp” and “shark” both emerged in the 17th century, probably related to the German word “schurke,” meaning “scoundrel.” This is also when folks started calling the predatory fish “sharks.” Before that, they were called “sea dogs.”
Why is the proof in the pudding?
There should only be eggs, milk, sugar and chocolate in the pudding.
Proof belongs in whiskey.
This makes more sense when you learn it’s a shorthand version of the 17th-century adage, “The proof of the pudding is in the eating.” Meaning, “You’ll know the pudding is good if people eat it.”
It’s run the gamut, not the gambit.
“Gamut” means “a whole range of things.” If you’re “running the gamut,” you’re running through all of the options.
The word “gamut” was coined by an 11th-century musician-monk named Guido d’Arezzo. He was applying syllables to the notes of the scale (just like Julie Andrews did in “Do-Re-Mi”). Instead of “do,” d’Arezzo used “ut.” The lowest “ut” on his musical scale became the “gamut.”
“Gamut” later expanded to mean all the notes on d’Arezzo’s scale, then all the notes in an instrument’s range, then all the things in any sort of range.
“Gambit,” on the other hand, is a move meant to gain advantage. It’s a word frequently used in chess.
Could I care less?
If I could care less, that means I care at least a little bit. So what this statement really means is, “I care.”
But if I could NOT care less, that means I have no cares left to give. “I. Do. Not. Care.”
The logically correct phrase “couldn’t care less” was used in the U.S. prior to the 1940s. But by the 1950s, “could care less” was creeping into use — even though it means the complete opposite of what you’re trying to say.
To quote the fine folks at the Merriam-Webster website (where much of this information comes from), “We must warn you that people who go through life expecting informal variant idioms in English to behave logically are setting themselves up for a lifetime of hurt.”
Could I care less?
You tell me.