by Max Cryer
One good turn deserves another.
(That’s) one small step for (a) man, one giant leap for mankind
After four days in space, the crew of Apollo 11 started their descent towards the moon, landing on (Earth time) July 20, 1969. Astronaut Neil Armstrong was seen and heard live on telecast to Earth, saying:
That’s one small step for (a) man, one giant leap for mankind.
NASA later explained that the word “a” before “man” had been obscured by static and was inaudible on earth. There has been much debate about whether Armstrong did or did not actually speak the “a.”
There is unsubstantiated belief that before the Apollo left earth, the line had been supplied to Armstrong, perhaps by his wife or by a professional writer. Whether or not that is the case, Armstrong certainly had it ready before he landed—in his book Chariots for Apollo he refers to having “rehearsed” the line before speaking it.
One-upmanship
Besides his study of D.H. Lawrence, and the edited Coleridge letters, British writer, academic, radio producer, drama critic and wit Stephen Potter wrote a series of tongue-in-cheek guides to living.
Gamesmanship, published in 1947, dwelt on possible ways of achieving psychological advantages over fellow players. This was followed in 1950 by Lifemanship, advising (somewhat lightheartedly) how to find success in both social and business activities.
His later output included Supermanship and Golfmanship. But his standout work, an exposé of how to gain status by making other people feel inferior to oneself, was his 1952 book One-upmanship. The title not only put a new word into the language, but spawned other uses of the suffix “-manship,” such as Adlai Stevenson speaking of the “brinkmanship” of John Foster Dulles.
(The) only thing we have to fear is fear itself
Even if inaccurately remembered and slightly misquoted, everyone knows Franklin D. Roosevelt said it. But there is some doubt that it was an original thought on his part. Sir Francis Bacon had written, “Nothing is to be feared except fear itself” (Fortitudo, 1623). Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington wrote, “The only thing I am afraid of is fear” (1831), and philosopher Henry David Thoreau wrote in his diary, “Nothing is so much to be feared as fear” (1851).
Eleanor Roosevelt reputedly said that Franklin D. was very familiar with Thoreau’s writings, and Roosevelt’s speechwriter denied that he had put the “fear” phrase into the speech script.
It is certain, however, that in March 1933 when Roosevelt made his inaugural speech, he introduced the expression to a wider public than that familiar with Francis Bacon, The Duke of Wellington or Thoreau.
Roosevelt’s “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself ” is sometimes misquoted as “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.”
Only ... shopping days until Christmas
The idea of reminding people how much shopping time is left before Christmas is not new. On December 19, 1900, the Los Angeles Times displayed a reminder: “There are only (counting today) five more shopping days till Christmas.” Four days later the Washington Post took up the cry: “Only one more shopping day until Christmas.”
At the time Gordon Selfridge was working with Marshall Field and Company in Chicago. He may have picked up the idea from the newspapers mentioned, but certainly he soon instructed his staff to drive the same slogan, which put a real sense of urgency into the shopping lead-up to Christmas. Before long it was used worldwide.
On one’s last legs
The image is believed to come from the practice (still current) of referring to sections of a journey as “legs”—of which the last would be the most tiring, and could end in collapse.
In this physical sense it was first seen in Thomas Middleton’s play The Old Law (1619). Commenting on the imminent demise of Eugenia’s husband, a courtier says:
On his last legs I’m sure.
By 1672 the expression had become more metaphorical. John Ray applied it to insolvency and bankruptcy: “He goes on his last legs.” From there the term has moved to apply to any object or idea—washing machines, shoes, computers, Government policy—seen to be getting close to its use-by date.
On the grapevine
Gaining information through informal sources, usually conversational. Before that meaning developed, American abolitionists helping escaped slaves sometimes used a system of hanging garments on a clothesline in a prearranged sequence of colors that gave out information to those observing. The “clothesline” became a synonym for “discreet and clandestine delivery of information.”
The concept took a further step in 1859. Although he didn’t say it, the association of information with grapes came to pass through the efforts of Colonel Bee, who set up a rudimentary telegraph system between Placerville in California and Virginia City in Nevada. The swaying of the trees stretched the wires until at times some lengths were lying on the ground and the general convolutions of the “telegraph” resembled the trailing of a Californian grapevine.
The efficiency of telegraph information was severely compromised and newspapers of the area began to refer to information of doubtful validity as “grapevine telegraph.” This became abbreviated and developed into the concept of hearing rumor and gossip usually at some distance from its source.
(The) opera’s not over until the fat lady sings
In 1976 Fabia Rue Smith and Charles Rayford Smith published Southern Words and Sayings, a collection of old sayings from the South. It included the (apparently familiar) expression:
Church ain’t out ’til the fat lady sings.
Sports instructor Ralph Carpenter of the Texas Technical University may have known the saying prior to that publication. In the same year, during a tense tie in a basketball match playoff, Carpenter made what was presumed to be his own variation on the existing expression, saying:
The opera ain’t over until the fat lady sings.
Carpenter’s remark was heard by comparatively few people at the time but was later published in the Dallas Morning News (March 1976). The remark reached the knowledge of San Antonio sports writer Dan Cook, who in May 1978 spoke the line during a televised sports match. This in turn was seen by celebrated sports broadcaster Dick Motta, who took a liking to the expression.
One thing led to another and the term went into use worldwide. None of the men involved claimed to have invented the line, but it is clear that Dan Cook’s use of it on television in 1978 created the opening that put it into general circulation.
Other fish to fry
Renowned for her writings about provincial society, Scottish author Margaret Oliphant was certainly not above using an informal expression when a character’s lifestyle required it. In At His Gates (vol 2, 1872) she wrote:
‘But you may compose yourself about Ned,’ added the father with irony. ‘That little thing has other fish to fry.’
Out of kilter
Kilter is a form of an old British dialect word, kelter, referring to something being in good condition or good health. Being out of kelter was to be somehow at odds with a desired state. Although the expression sounds fairly casual, it must once have been quite acceptable in a formal context. Its first known outing in print came from the high-ranking divine Dr. Isaac Barrow, whose lengthy sermon on The Duty of Prayer (c.1662) says:
If the organs of prayer be out of kelter or out of tune, how can we pray?
Some time after this, the spelling and pronunciation of kelter, for no known reason, became kilter.
Out of sight, out of mind
British poet Arthur Hugh Clough translated Plutarch, was an examiner in the Education Office, and part of a British commission to study foreign military education. He also devoted a lot of time to being an unpaid secretary to his wife’s cousin, Florence Nightingale. In 1853 Clough published Songs in Absence, one of which told its readers:
That out of sight is out of mind
Is true of most we leave behind;
It is not, sure, nor can be true,
My own and
dearest love, of you.
They were my friends, ’twas sad to part;
Almost a tear began to start;
But yet as things run on they find
That out of sight is out of mind.
Almost immediately, Clough’s line went into common usage.
See also Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Out of the frying pan into the fire
Various configurations go back several centuries BC and involve falling from a hot pan (or cauldron) into coals, or from smoke into flames.
In 1532 the expression came into English when King Henry VIII’s Lord Chancellor Sir Thomas More expressed unrest about the direction in which Christian observance might be moving. In criticising Bible translator William Tyndale, More described such heretics as:
Lepe they lyke a flounder out of a fryeng-panne into the fyre.
(Thomas More was a brave man—his religious disapproval extended to disagreeing with Henry’s marriage to Anne Boleyn and His Majesty’s separation from the Catholic church, for which impudence he was beheaded.)
(The) oxygen of publicity
There is some belief that the term was originated by London’s Chief Rabbi, Lord Jakobovits, but it became internationally prominent when British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher addressed the American Bar Association in July 1985, and her speech included the line:
Democratic nations must try to find ways to starve the terrorist and the hijacker of the oxygen of publicity on which they depend.
Later that month she repeated the expression to the Sunday Times during a press conference in Washington. It has been widely used ever since.
(Do not eat) oysters in a month with no “r”
The concept was first formulated by William Butler in 1599. His Dyet’s Dry Dinner proclaims:
It is unseasonable and unwholesome in all months that have not an R in their name to eat an oyster.
This may have less to do with safety than with flavor and conservation.
Northern oysters spawn during the warm months (May, June, July, August), and their texture and flavor is not as satisfying during this period. Apart from that, leaving them alone during warm months helps sustain the future oyster population.
Sophisticated techniques of farming and refrigeration have gone a long way to resolve these issues, so in general farmed oysters are available and can be eaten in all months with or without an “r,” though the persnickety prefer the supposedly superior qualities of oysters from the wild.
However, Northern Hemisphere epicures who relish such oysters may prefer to avoid them in months without an “r.” But this of course does not apply in the Southern Hemisphere, where wild oysters spawn in the months that do have an “r,” and are therefore best eaten in the months without one.
Parking meter
This ubiquitous feature of urban life was patented in 1935 by inventor Carlton Cole Magee (U.S. patent #2,118,318).The first ones were installed in Oklahoma City and the company that manufactured them became known as the P.O.M. company, because Magee had called the device a Park-O-Meter. Over time, public usage morphed the name into parking meter.
(The) patter of little feet
Subject to several later variations (e.g., “pitter-patter,” and “tiny” feet) the folksy original phrase emerged in 1859 in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem “The Children’s Hour”:
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
Peace for our time
From 1662 onwards, the Nunc Dimittis section of the Book of Common Prayer has the line, “Give peace in our time, Oh Lord.”
British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain may have been influenced by that when on September 30, 1938 he returned from a meeting with Hitler, and spoke from No. 10 Downing Street. His words were:
My good friends, for the second time in our history, a British Prime Minister has returned from Germany bringing peace with honor. I believe it is “peace for our time.” Go home and get a nice quiet sleep.
This has often been misquoted as “peace in our time.”
(The) people’s princess
The expression has been used to refer to three British princesses. Her Royal Highness Crown Princess Charlotte Augusta was the only legitimate heir to King George IV and the public delighted in her throughout her short life. Charlotte’s death in childbirth in 1817 when she was twenty-one caused an enormous outpouring of grief. People of every class cried in the streets; even destitute laborers wore ragged black armbands. Shops closed, memorial services were crowded, and the entire population seemed united in sadness. The Times leader wrote: “We never recollect so strong and general an exhibition and indication of sorrow.”
Another “people’s princess” was Her Royal Highness Princess Mary, Duchess of Teck (great-grandmother of Queen Elizabeth II), who lived a profligate but cheerful life in London, was constantly in debt and was much loved by the masses, in spite of her enormous size (weighing in at nearly 250 pounds, she was sometimes jocularly called “Fat Mary”—see The People’s Princess, by W.S. Jackman).
After the death of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997, the tide of mourning matched that following the death of Charlotte 180 years earlier.The speechwriter for Prime Minister Tony Blair included Diana with Charlotte and Fat Mary as a “people’s princess.”
Perish the thought
Originally with “that” instead of “the,” the line comes from English playwright-actor Colly Cibber. Undaunted by Shakespeare’s having already written an impressive drama about Richard III, Cibber wrote an alternative version in 1700 and presented it at Drury Lane with himself playing King Richard. After being visited by ghosts, the king says:
Perish that thought. No never be it said
That fate itself could awe the soul of Richard.
Personal computer
Accepting that the abbreviation “pc” means “personal computer,” the concept of everyone-and-their-own-laptop dates back to 1962. In December that year, the Hillsboro Press-Gazette in Ohio carried some information regarding predictions made by eminent American physicist Dr. John William Mauchly. It was reported that he:
... has designed computers and thinks well of them. He envisions a time when everyone will carry his own personal computer.
Indeed Mauchly became codesigner of the first commercial computer made in the United States.
(By 1982 Computerworld was using the abbreviation “pc,” and in 1983 the Los Angeles Times started advertising “laptops.”)
Pie in the sky
In the early twentieth century, a somewhat anarchistic labor organization called Industrial Workers of the World was known jocularly as the Wobblies (because of its initials). One of its unifying factors was songs. Every member was given a little songbook that contained rousing parodies of popular songs, such as “Hallelujah I’m a Bum” and “Nearer My Job to Thee.”
In 1911 Joe Hill created a song parody directly aimed at the Salvation Army hymn “In the Sweet Bye and Bye.” The Industrial Workers had taken offence at the Salvation Army’s implication that there would be joy in the afterlife so long as one remained meek and compliant in this life. Hill’s parody was called “The Preacher and the Slave” and, instead of the sweet bye and bye, referred to “Work and pray, live on hay, you’ll get pie in the sky when you die.”
This may have been rather unfair to the Salvation Army, but nonetheless the phrase went into the language very quickly and has never disappeared. In time the phrase’s origin was forgotten and the expression came to depict a dream scenario or an unrealistic hope.
Pigs might fly
A Scottish publication, written in Latin in 1586, acknowledged the impossibility of pigs flying. It failed to reach a large audience but, in 1865, Lewis Carroll did. In Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland the Duchess makes (as usual) a cryptic remark on the subject of pigs and flying:
‘Thinking again?
’ the Duchess asked, with another dig of her sharp little chin.
‘I’ve a right to think,’ said Alice sharply, for she was beginning to feel a little worried.
‘Just about as much right,’ said the Duchess, ‘as pigs have to fly . . . ’
Lewis Carroll must have been intrigued about pigs flying—or not—since the notion cropped up again in Through the Looking Glass in 1872:
‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
‘To talk of many things:
Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax –
Of cabbages—and kings –
And why the sea is boiling hot –
And whether pigs have wings.’
It seems that Lewis Carroll can take credit for putting speculation about the ability of pigs to fly into common usage.
Pillars of society
Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen’s play Samfundets Støtter (1877) was translated by Robert Farquarson as Pillars of Society. The term comes from a scene where Bernick claims that in every man’s heart there will be at least one black spot that he has concealed. Lona replies:
