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April 2024 . . . .
“It’s always about the language.”
On a recent visit to the coffee shop, my wife described something — I don’t even recall what — to me, saying “. . . it runs the full gamut . . .” As a dues-paying member of the grammar school police athletic league, I corrected her — the gamut is the full — the complete — something. She is quite used to this by now, having me say things that only show that I’m paying attention in a vaguely insulting way — and didn’t throw her whole milk latte at me, perhaps because it was an excellent latte, and not worth wasting on me. Literally (as the ubiquitous they too frequently say). Told me I was wrong, and gave me a patent-pending shut-up look. |
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