Mrs. Malaprop Is in Good Company

Since my last compilation of malapropisms, the entries have been trickling in.

The gift of creating malaprops is fortunately widespread, and it is just as likely to afflict the literate as the uneducated.

Strictly speaking, a malaprop is a ludicrous misuse of words, usually through confusion caused by a resemblance in sound: thus, in the classic from the lips of the befuddled Mrs. Malaprop herself, allegories for alligators .

The malapropism is first cousin to the mixed metaphor, and in some cases the two are combined. Some are hard to classify as one or the other, and I won’t try.

As I have said, good malapropism are accidental; they can not be contrived.

Some of the following sound contrived, some sound genuine. Most are accompanied by earnest guarantees of their legitimacy. I leave it up to you.

Jan Sparks of Phoenix says she has a friend named Pam who delights everyone in her circle with her malaprops. An expression of distaste: “That irks my craw!” Of a heavy rain: “It’s wetter than a hen.” When her husband ruined her plans for the weekend: “That certainly puts the hibiscus on that! “

John W. Shaver of Anaheim swears he heard a television anchorwoman plug a coming bit about “an abdominal snowman.”

Abe Novakow used to work with a man whose sister had “very close veins,” and who complained that someone was going up the stairs “like a horse afire.”

Novakow questioned the simile, and the man asked him, “Have you ever seen a horse afire?” He said no, he hadn’t. And the man said, “Well, I have.”

Often, if its author holds his ground, a malaprop will stand up. Who are we to say that allegories don’t live on the banks of the Nile?

Frank E. Taylor for years collected the malaprops of an engineering colleague whom he considered to be the only genius he had met in his 40-year career--”a highly successful and significant executive.”

One of his gems: “If you get in trouble with the phone company, you just might end up being persona non grande. After all, you can’t fight Mother Goose.” And, “I could watch them work because they didn’t know me from Adams.”

Jacquie Endicott of Hollywood has a friend who sat in front of her new carrousel microwave oven to count the number of revelations it made per minute. She complained that when her husband came home from work he gouged himself from the refrigerator.

Diane Reed of Irvine says her favorite was in a letter from a friend about the death of her beloved grandfather: “The whole family is very upset with grandmother; she gave grandfather a real no-thrills funeral!”

Pat Porter of Reseda has a daughter who believes that “a rock in the hand is worth two in the bush.” Also, she had a friend who became “an albacore” around her neck.

Bradley Brewer writes that his friend and neighbor, an elderly gentleman, reported that his wife had bought him some terminal underwear. Also, he noted that, according to his newspaper, an attorney was trying to flea bargain his client.

Superior Court Commissioner Florence-Marie Cooper reports that her “dear Nana” complained that American football had “too much unnecessary roughage,” which nobody can deny.

Marjorie S. Long says she uses shorthand and a pocket notebook to jot down the sayings of a friend. Among them: “The earth rotates on its axle.” “What she said was out of contact.” “It is difficult to commute with her.” (All those make sense.)

Mark Winogrond writes that he has collected malaprops uttered by officials of a small Southern California city. They include: “That issue is now mute.” “Let’s not muddle the water.” “They came in groves.” “We need a better floor mat.”

Bobby Hendig writes that malaprops sometimes lighten her work, which is in therapy for sexually abused children and their families. An enraged father threatened to assault a man who had abused his daughter. Reminded that she needed him at home, not in jail, he said: “Wouldn’t the court take into account any exterminating circumstances?”

“A mother who was struggling to support three children described her financial affairs as ‘a disastrophe.’ To me, disastrophe has a wonderful resonance. It rolls easily off my tongue, and it feels even more expressive than the two words from which it sprang.”

Don’t you find them accelerating?