Boom Chicago

 

[I’ve posted twice before on improv theater, first a report on How to be the Greatest Improviser on Earth by Will Hines (Pretty Great Publishing Co., 2016) on 10 January 2017, and then I reposted an article, “Unscripted, Unrehearsed & Unflappable,” from the Spring 2022 issue of SAG-AFTRA magazine.  This is a little different.

[This post isn’t about improv technique or its relationship to dramatic acting.  This post is about an unlikely improv troupe and theater and the people—the improv artists—who populate it.  I’ll say no more about it now; I’ll let you see for yourselves.  I think most readers will be as surprised—and delighted—as I was when I watched the broadcast last Sunday.]

“IT’S NO JOKE. BOOM CHICAGO, AN AMSTERDAM IMPROV THEATER,
IS CHURNING OUT AMERICAN COMEDY LEGENDS.”
by Jon Wertheim and Michael H Gavshon 

[The transcript below is from the 60 Minutes (CBS News) episode of 1 February 2026.  The online transcript includes an imbedded video.]

These can be unnerving times for American comedy. The TV sitcom is going by way of the canned laugh track, while the president tries to heckle late-night comedians out of jobs. But funny persists. And funny travels internationally. In the early ’90s, two opportunistic comics decided to open an English language improv joint in . . . Amsterdam? It sounded less like a winning business idea than a punchline given the Netherlands’ reputation as a comic, well, Netherland. But 30-plus-years later, their club, Boom Chicago, has imported American funny folk and then exported them back as future stars – including Seth Meyers, Jordan Peele, Amber Ruffin, and Jason Sudeikis. Could it be that America’s ultimate laugh factory is an improv theater positioned near an Amsterdam canal? Yes, and . . .

[“Yes. and . . .” is, according to the uncredited “Unscripted, Unrehearsed & Unflappable,” the “basic idea” of theatrical improvisation, commonly known as “improv.”

That is, first you must mentally accept and agree with what your scene partner says [the yes]. It becomes an established element of the world the two or more of you are creating. From there, you build upon the idea by adding details of your own [the and] . . . .

[I posted this article on Rick On Theater on 12 June 2022, after posting a report on How to be the Greatest Improviser on Earth.

[Donald Trump [45th and 47th President of the United States: 2016-21; 2025-29] has a long history of pressuring television networks to fire late-night hosts who criticize him. He’s used social media, particularly Truth Social (which he owns) and X (formerly Twitter), to attack the comedians, labeling them “talentless,” calling for their firing, and suggesting regulatory action against their networks. His efforts have ranged from personal insults to inquiring about using federal power to stop the mockery. Throughout 2025 and early 2026, he intensified these efforts by celebrating show cancellations and urging networks to "ax" specific comedians. 

[In February 2026, Trump labeled Seth Meyers, host of NBC’s Late Night with Seth Meyers, the “least talented person to perform live in the history of television.” He previously called for NBC to fire Meyers immediately, labeling his criticism “probably illegal” and threatening to “find out” why the network extended his contract.

[When CBS announced The Late Show, hosted by Stephen Colbert, would end after the 2025-2026 season, Trump celebrated on Truth Social, stating, “I absolutely love that Colbert got fired.” He later urged the network to take him off the air even sooner, calling the comedian a “pathetic disaster” and suggesting he be “put to sleep” (i.e., euthanized) in a professional sense.

[Trump has frequently urged ABC to cancel Jimmy Kimmel Live!, particularly after a 10-day suspension in September 2025 following controversial comments about the shooter of conservative political activist Charlie Kirk. During Trump’s first term, reports emerged that Trump asked aides how to use executive power to stop Kimmel and others from mocking him. He has described Kimmel as having “zero talent” and claimed he was “next” to be canceled after Colbert.

[Despite Jimmy Fallon's generally more apolitical approach, Trump has called him a “total loser” and urged the network to cancel The Tonight Show alongside Late Night, insisting, “Do it NBC!!!”

[Trump has long accused Saturday Night Live of being a “hit job” and a Democratic advertisement. In 2019, reacting to a rerun, Trump posted that SNL should be “looked into” by the Federal Communications Commission or the Federal Election Commission, arguing the comedy show’s one-sided mockery constituted illegal campaign activity. (Trump has pushed the argument that anti-Trump jokes are not entertainment, but rather “illegal campaign contributions to the Democrat Party.”)

[Seth Meyers (b. 1973) is an Emmy-winning comedian, writer, and the host of Late Night with Seth Meyers on NBC, a role he has held since 2014. He recently extended his contract to continue hosting the show through 2028.  Meyers maintains a monthly residency at the Beacon Theatre in New York City with John Oliver (b. 1977), a British and American comedian who hosts Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, and he co-hosts two podcasts: Family Trips with the Meyers Brothers with his brother Josh Meyers, and The Lonely Island and Seth Meyers Podcast. Meyers spent 13 seasons at Saturday Night Live (2001-14), serving as head writer for nine seasons and anchoring Weekend Update for eight.

[Jordan Peele (b. 1979) shares a long history with Seth Meyers, dating back to their early days in the late 1990s as members of the Boom Chicago improv troupe. He’s a filmmaker, comedian, and actor known for blending horror with sharp social commentary. He first gained popularity as half of the comedic duo Key & Peele alongside Keegan-Michael Key (born March 22, 1971), an actor, comedian, producer, and writer, before transitioning into directing and producing.

[Amber Ruffin (b. 1979) is an Emmy and Tony Award-nominated comedian, writer, and actress. In 2014, Ruffin became the first Black woman to join the writing staff of a late-night network talk show when she was hired for Late Night with Seth Meyers. She hosted her own late-night series on Peacock for three seasons (2020–2023), receiving multiple Emmy and Writers Guild of America Award nominations. She currently serves as a team captain on CNN's news-based quiz show Have I Got News for You alongside Michael Ian Black (b. 1971), a comedian, actor, and writer, and host Roy Wood, Jr. (b. 1978), a stand-up comedian, actor, and writer. Ruffin co-wrote the book for the Tony-nominated musical Some Like It Hot (2022) and contributed to the 2024 revival of The Wiz. Her latest project, the musical comedy Bigfoot!, is scheduled to begin Off-Broadway previews in this month at the Manhattan Theatre Club.

[Jason Sudeikis (b. 1975) is an actor, comedian, writer, and producer who’s recently been seen on the hit series, Ted Lasso (Apple TV+ and Warner Bros. Television). Sudeikis began his career in the 1990s with The Second City and ComedySportz in Kansas City and Chicago. He joined SNL as a writer before becoming a cast member, famous for his impressions of Joe Biden and Mitt Romney and led several high-profile comedies, including Horrible Bosses (2011), We’re the Millers (2013).]

Simon Lukacs: The Bush days seem quite good now in retrospect, don’t they?

Kate Nixon: Oh, I know. WMDs, Colin Powell, Condi Rice, what a lark ha ha ha ha!

[The “Bush days” reference is to the presidency of George W. Bush (b. 1946), 43rd President of the United States: 2001-09. Colin Powell (1937-2021) was a U.S. Army general who was the U.S. Secretary of State from 2001 to 2005 (under George W. Bush); Condoleezza “Condi” Rice (b. 1954) served as Secretary of State from 2005 to 2009 and National Security Advisor from 2001 to 2005 (under Bush). During the approach to the Second Gulf War (Iraq War), Powell firmly argued that Saddam Hussein, dictator of Iraq, possessed active WMD programs and concealed forbidden weapons, and Rice was a leading proponent of the claim that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction (WMD).  These claims, later found to be false, were used by the administration to go to war in Iraq even though Hussein had had no involvement in the 11 September 2001 terror attack on the United States.]

Comedy, they say, is hard. Improv comedy? Harder still. Then imagine doing it in a country not, generally, known as a barrel of laughs.

Seth Meyers: Dutch people, not the most giving laughers.

Jon Wertheim: I was gonna ask you about that.

Seth Meyers: Dutch people laugh like this. Ha-ha. And they immediately get quiet.

Seth Meyers needs no introduction. He and Peter Grosz — actor and Emmy-winning comedy writer — were college pals who then developed their comic chops in . . . Amsterdam?

Seth Meyers: They so lovingly tell you they didn’t like things. The honesty. The Dutch honesty--

Jon Wertheim: Withering candor.

Peter Grosz: Yeah.

Seth Meyers: Exactly. Like, it-- it’s so funny. I’ve never been in a place where there’s less malice behind deeply cruel-- 

Peter Grosz: Yeah. It’s not rude at all.

Seth Meyers: It’s not rude--

Peter Grosz: I think--

Seth Meyers: --at all.

Peter Grosz: “I’m doing you a favor. This part was not good. I did laugh a little bit at that part, so do more of that.”

Seth Meyers: No but we came out and the guy was like, “Hey. Yeah. Can I buy you a drink?” And I was like, “Oh, yeah. Of course. Did you see the show?” He goes, “Yes, I did.” And I said-- “Did you like it?” He goes, “No, I did not care for it.” And I was just-- and I go, “Why are you buying me a drink then?” He goes, “Well, maybe I will like you.”

Laura Maynard (on stage): Are you ready?

Improv is not stand-up. You’re not performing a pre-written routine; you’re working in real-time.

Deshawn Mason (on stage): What’s something you have at home that you care about?

Crowd: A watch! My shoes!

Deshawn Mason (on stage): I heard – I heard a watch right here. 

You’re relying on the audience for material and direction.

Boom cast member 1 (on stage, singing): I got a watch on my wrist, it looks so fine.

Kate Nixon (on stage): It helps me when I don’t know what’s the time.

Chicago has Second City. LA has the Groundlings and New York has Upright Citizens’ Brigade. In Amsterdam, there is Boom Chicago. Last summer, hundreds gathered outside a charming Dutch theater, which stands as a national treasure of sorts, though it’s unclear if the true benefitting nation is the Netherlands or the U.S.

[Second City, the Groundlings, and the Upright Citizens Brigade are all improv troupes of some renown. (Will Hines, the author of the improv book referenced above, was a leader of UCB.]

Jon Wertheim: This is part of your commute.

Andrew Moskos: This is-- this is part of my commute just about every day.

The set-up: it’s the early ‘90s. Pep Rosenfeld and Andrew Moskos, recent Northwestern [University in Evanston, Illinois – 20 miles north of Chicago along the shore of Lake Michigan] grads, are struggling to make it in the Chicago comedy scene.

Jon Wertheim: Do I even ask what drew you to Amsterdam when you were-- in your early 20s and--

Andrew Moskos: Oh gosh--

Jon Wertheim: --fresh outta college?

Andrew Moskos: Yeah, fresh outta college, 23 years old. I mean, s-- sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I mean, we--

Pep Rosenfeld: Right, what-- what-- what brings anybody to Amsterdam when they’re young?

Along with a third classmate, Ken Schaefle, they cooked up a half-baked idea, as one does in Amsterdam . . . Man, you know what this town could use? An English-speaking comedy club!

Andrew Moskos: It was probably the best stoner idea ever. You know, “Let’s quit our jobs and move to Amsterdam and-- and start a business.”

Aware that good comic acts often require a straight man — a straight woman in this case — they soon roped in Saskia Maas, a local who, amid the yucks, brings a measure of sobriety and savvy. She also became Andrew’s wife. 

Saskia Maas:  I mean, these are two goofballs and I’m the businesswoman. So-- but-- that seemed-- that worked out-- perfectly.

Jon Wertheim: I was gonna say, th-- 30 plus years later-- seems like the dynamic still-- still holds.

Pep Rosenfeld: Still holds.

Saskia Maas:  Still-- still holds—yes.

Accidental entrepreneurs, they wrote to the local tourist board, asking for advice, seeking validation.

Jon Wertheim: What’d they say?

Andrew Moskos: Said, “This won’t work here. Don’t do it here. That-- it’s not an Amsterdam kind of a thing.”

Pep Rosenfeld: The Dutch don’t wanna see a show in English, the tourists don’t wanna see a show at all. Andrew reads the letter and goes-- “Yeah, I-- based on this I feel like we should definitely do it.”

They named the club “Boom Chicago,” a nod to their hometown. They found a stage in the back of a bar, and eventually their own proper theatre off the Times Square of Amsterdam, the Leidesplein [a square in central Amsterdam and one of the busiest centers for nightlife in the city].

Andrew Moskos: And our little summer project became a year-round business.

As for the small matter of recruiting talent, Moskos and Rosenfeld went back to Chicago and made their pitch to two recent Northwestern grads, Meyers and Grosz.

Jon Wertheim: What was your level of knowledge about the Netherlands?

Seth Meyers: It was so bad that I think my first thought was, “I think ‘Hamlet’ takes place.” Does ‘Hamlet’-- and then I-- the other thing I did was I remember just in my head, I think I pictured just “Sound of Music.” And I was like, “Well, first thing I’ve gotta do is get some hiking shoes. And then the next thing I’ll do is I’ll buy a guidebook.” So it was, like, bought the shoes. And then the next thing was, like, flattest place on Earth. 

Once they assembled a cast, it was time to assemble an audience.

Pep Rosenfeld: So the way it worked was that before the show I’d be there sellin’ tickets. And we didn’t have a bank account, so the money went in one-- in my boots. I wore cowboy boots then.

Andrew Moskos: He was eccentric.

Pep Rosenfeld: I was eccentric. I still am.

Andrew Moskos: I would go out on the s-- on the Leidseplein, which is a big square, and-- just tell people, “What are you doin’ tonight?” “Oh yeah, well, we don’t know.” “Now you know. You’re comin’ to Boom Chicago.”

Jon Wertheim: Can we just discuss-- you talked about the finances of this club being stored in his boot without irony. We just glossed over that as-- as a –

Pep Rosenfeld: One-- one time–

Andrew Moskos: Oh this is so funny. I-- I-- I-- I-- I was in my room after a show. It was evening, nighttime. I get a knock on the door. And Pep is over there and goes, “Yeah, I brought this girl home. And-- I don’t know if I wanna leave her in the room with the boot.” And he handed the boot over to me for safe keeping that evening.

Pep Rosenfeld: Business before pleasure.

Andrew Moskos: That’s right.

Back in U.S. comedy circles, word spread. Josh Meyers, Seth’s younger brother, and Ike Barinholtz were hired 25 years ago. 

Josh Meyers (on stage): I had extensions put in, Dad. 

Ike Barinholtz (on stage): Oh. My. God.

Josh Meyers (on stage): I’m sorry, Dad!

Today, Barinholtz is an actor in ascent, nominated for an Emmy for his role in the Apple TV show, “The Studio” [satirical cringe comedy television series].

An early Boom Chicago comedy lesson: avoid cheap jokes. The references to the Cleveland Browns [National Football League team] or the Olive Garden [casual dining restaurant chain specializing in Italian-American cuisine] don’t cut it.

Ike Barinholtz: When you get here and you’re playing for 300 people or so and their, English isn’t all their first language, you have to learn how to be bigger. You have to learn how to own a room and-- and make references that are a little more universal and deal with concepts and themes that someone from Australia or someone from Finland or someone from New Jersey can all relate to.

Josh Meyers: Yeah. I remember in an early show, I said I was gonna key someone’s car. And then our director was like, “People don’t know what keying a car [act of vandalism where a person intentionally scratches a vehicle's paintwork with a key or other sharp object] is over here.”

Ike Barinholtz: You mean (foreign language)?

Josh Meyers: (foreign language) here.

Brendan Hunt: If you happened to live here long enough to have, like, one or two Dutch words in your pocket, and could throw one Dutch word into your improv, you were a god to them.

Brendan Hunt (on stage): We want you to know that Americans aren’t about hate, we’re about love.

Brendan Hunt arrived to Boom in the late ‘90s. Like many other comedians, moving to Amsterdam sounded like a risky career move. Or maybe not. 

Brendan Hunt: When I was doing improv in Chicago in the late ‘90s, there was this thing called Boom Chicago that you would hear about. And it was sort of in hushed, mythical tones. Like, “Apparently they do improv in Amsterdam.” “Amsterdam? You ever been there? You ever been there? You ever been there?” No one’s ever been there. Like, wow, that’s cool. But, I mean, no one would ever do it. Right? I mean, some people do it but we-- we can’t do that, right? You’d be gone for a year, and our flourishing careers will be interrupted while-- where we’re making $10 bucks a show-- twice on a Friday.

Then, as now, the 10 or so comedians in the troupe commit to one year minimum and are paid enough to make it a full-time job. Performing six shows a week means a lot of reps on stage, with little time to wallow after the inevitable rough nights.

Stacey Smith is in the current Boom Chicago troupe.

Stacey Smith: Our ensemble works together so often that we can, at intermission, also, like, discuss, like, what’s working, what’s not working, what kind of crowd are they, what are they resonating with, so--

Jon Wertheim: You do that?

Stacey Smith: Yeah. Absolutely--

Jon Wertheim: It’s like halftime? It’s like--

Stacey Smith: Well, because-- yeah, ex-- exactly like halftime.

Stacey also heads Boom’s comedy academy, which teaches improv to more than 200 students. Improv has an unpredictability and reliance on teamwork that makes it the ultimate building block of true humor – less joke telling, than acting and reacting.

Stacey Smith: When you’re working on a team, you do need to come in with the mindset that you’re building that piece from start to finish as a unit.

Jon Wertheim: You wanna be the class clown, go do ten minutes on open mic night.

Stacey Smith: Yeah. Because we do believe that if you are a good improviser, then you already have the tools to be a good stand-up comedian.

To wit: Seth Meyers. In 2000, a touring show he developed with Boom caught the eye of “Saturday Night Live.” He was offered a writing job. It was like a baseball player getting called up to the big leagues. 

It was also a Boom Chicago moment of arrival.

Seth Meyers: It was really special to know it was the sort of thing that made people want to see more of you.

Jon Wertheim: That was a great source of success. Right?

Seth Meyers: Totally.

Jon Wertheim: And you can draw a direct line to Boom Chicago.

Seth Meyers: 100%. 100% direct line.

So, too, for Brendan Hunt. At Boom, he became obsessed with European soccer. He and two other Boom cast members — Jason Sudeikis and Joe Kelly — began to develop a partnership. 

You don’t need wise Coach Beard to tell you where this story is going.

Jon Wertheim: Does Ted Lasso happen but for Boom Chicago?

[Coach Beard (portrayed by Brendan Hunt) is the stoic, intelligent, and fiercely loyal assistant coach for AFC Richmond, a fictional English professional football (i.e., soccer) club, in the hit Apple TV+ series Ted Lasso; Lasso (portrayed by Jason Sudeikis) is a former Division II (American) college football coach from Kansas who’s hired to manage the fictional English Premier League soccer team.]

Brendan Hunt: No, I don’t think Ted Lasso does happen without Boom Chicago. It opened us up to the view of Americans abroad, and like viewing yourself outside of your own home. You know, one of the rules of Boom Chicago was-- ‘cause we’d make fun of-- of all countries, basically, but like the rule was we make fun of ourselves first. We earn it. And then we go out. 

The Boom Chicago footprint goes well beyond the five days of shows each week . . .

In fact, one of Boom’s biggest sources of revenue has long been global corporate events that braid banter with business. 

With annual earnings measured in the millions — no longer kept in a boot — the business formed in the ‘90s in a haze, well, booms.

In June, Boom Chicago held an alumni reunion. 

Brendan Hunt: From the back may we please have a suggestion of another object?

Audience: A can opener.

Brendan Hunt: A can opener! Sex with me is like a can opener . . . you’re better off with the electric version.

Former cast members came back . . .

Jill Benjamin: Sorry, I kind of forgot your name again. What was it?

Seth Meyers: Joao.

Jill Benjamin: Oh! Joao! Like joie de vie?

Not just to reminisce, but to perform . . .

Ike Barinholtz: I’m so grateful for Jeff Bezos.

[Bezos (b. 1964) is a billionaire businessman (currently the third richest person in the world) best known as the founder, executive chairman, and former president and CEO of Amazon. He bought the Washington Post in 2013, and his ownership of the paper has been subject to criticism over his treatment of employees, as well as his influence on the paper’s content, in particular 2024-25 interference with the editorial and opinion pages. On 4 February, the Post announced a massive restructuring that includes laying off roughly one-third of its staff, dismantling or reducing entire departments, slashing the Metro desk and closing a number of foreign bureaus, shifting the opinion section toward “personal liberties and free markets,” in an apparent attempt to pivot away from traditional left-of-center perspectives.]

Peter Grosz: Yeah, me too.

Ike Barinholtz: I think it’s cool that he’s sending people up in space to work out their problems.

And, of course, rib each other on stage

Ike Barinholtz: I don’t think you guys look alike.

Seth and Josh Meyers: Okay.

Ike Barinholtz: I don’t.

Seth Meyers: Alright, you’re the one.

Ike Barinholtz: I think you look like a Jewish orthodontist in upstate New York. And you look like you were born on a fjord.

Seth Meyers: Which of those two is handsomer?

Ike Barinholtz: Both handsome, one of you just might be more prone to stomach trouble.

All those laughs, from such an unlikely wind-up.

Jon Wertheim: We’ve heard people say you carry something from this place with you when you--

Ike Barinholtz: Yes.

Jon Wertheim: --leave, no matter what.

Ike Barinholtz: Yes.

Josh Meyers: Yeah.

Ike Barinholtz: Just don’t put it in your suitcase. Fly home without it. 

Produced by Michael H. Gavshon.

Associate producers, Elizabeth Germino and Mimi Lamarre.

Edited by Mike Levine.

[Some random details about the improvisers named in the transcript above (in the order they’re mentioned:

Simon Lukacs (b. ca. 1983) – British improv comedian, actor, and coach; studied clowning and improv; worked as a professional improv performer for nine years; seen on BBC3 and Dutch satirical TV news program, Zondag met Lubach Sunday with Lubach]; devised a concept where guests share true, tragic stories that the cast then transforms into cathartic comedy; Tragedy Plus Time had three sold-out runs at Boom Chicago in 2023 and 2024

Kate Nixon (b. ca, 1998) – spent 10 years in Chicago, where she was a prominent member of the local improv community; performed at top-tier venues like Second City, iO Theater, and The Annoyance Theatre; co-founded the Chicago-based improv troupe Unlikely Company in 2013; Since early 2022, she has been a mainstage cast member and instructor at Boom Chicago; known for incorporating music (banjo and ukulele) and high-energy physicality into her improvised comedy

Peter Grosz (b. 1974) – actor and television writer; most recognizable for appearing in Sonic Drive-In’s “Two Guys” commercials; graduate of Northwestern University, where one of his roommates was Seth Meyers; wrote for The Colbert Report (2007-10; Stephen Colbert did improv with Second City in Chicago); has been writing for Late Night with Seth Meyers since 2014

Laura Maynard (b. ca. 1998) – improviser, performer, teacher, and writer; currently a full-time cast member and teacher at Boom Chicago; earned a Comedy Writing and Performance degree at Columbia College in Chicago

Deshawn Mason – actor, comedian, and performer; served as a Level 1 Improv Instructor at the iO Theater in Chicago; known for teaching foundational improv; often billed as a magician-comedian, he provides private magic shows at the “Owner's Table” at Boom Chicago; before Amsterdam, performed improv and sketch comedy at Second City, the iO Theater, Logan Square Improv, CiC, and The Annoyance

Andrew Moskos (b. 1968) – actor, comedian, and presenter; trained in improv at legendary Second City and iO Theater; co-founder of Boom Chicago with Pep Rosenfled and Ken Schaefle; he is artistic director of the company; married to Saskia Maas, CEO of Boom Chicago; co-author with Maas of Boom Chicago Presents the 30 Most Important Years in Dutch History (Akashic Books, 2023); uses improv techniques for corporate training

Pep Rosenfeld (b. 1970) – comedian, writer, and improviser; one of the three co-founders of Boom Chicago (with Ken Schaefle and Andrew Moskos, three high school classmates and Northwestern University alumni; an Emmy nominated writer for Saturday Night Live; author of Work/Laugh Balance (A.W. Bruna, 2025), a manifesto for leaders and employees to inject humor into professional settings to boost engagement and morale

Ken Schaefle (b. 1970) – Northwestern University graduate; high school and college classmates of Pep Rosenfeld and Andrew Moskos, his co-founders of Boom Chicago; Schaefle fell in love with sound and lighting at Northwestern; in the early 2000s, he decided to leave Boom Chicago and return to school; he entered Columbia University’s two-year intensive program of pre-med courses in 2006 and then entered med school at Albert Einstein Medical College in the Bronx; he graduated in 2014; Dr. Schaefle specialized in Global Healrh

Saskia Maas – native Dutch citizen who was an exchange student in the United States before co-founding Boom Chicago in 1994; co-owner and CEO of Boom Chicago; runs the business side of the company, while Pep Rosenfeld and Andrew Moskos run the creative side; Maas is married to Andrew Moskos; co-author of Boom Chicago Presents the 30 Most Important Years in Dutch History (Akashic Books, 2023), which chronicles the theater’s impact on the comedy world; Jason Sudeikis credits her as a mentor during his early career.

Josh Meyers (b. 1976) – actor, stand-up comedian, and writer; known for being a cast member of the sketch comedy series MADtv; younger brother of Seth Meyers; graduated from Northwestern University; performs improv comedy regularly at the Hollywood Improv as well as stand-up comedy throughout Los Angeles and in Pasadena’s famous Ice House

Ike Barinholtz (b. 1977) – actor and comedian; best known for starring roles in the comedy series MADtv (2002-07), Eastbound & Down (2012), The Mindy Project (2012-17), Bless the Harts (2019-21), The Afterparty (2022), History of the World, Part II (2023); work in The Studio (2025-present) earned him a Critics’ Choice Award and nominations for a Primetime Emmy and two Screen Actors Guild Awards; planned to become a politician but decided to move to Los Angeles to be an actor

Brendan Hunt (b. 1972) – actor and writer; known for roles in We're the Millers (2013) and Horrible Bosses 2 (2014); co-creator of the Apple TV+ sitcom Ted Lasso, as well as a writer and regular cast member; studied with Second City in Chicago before heading to Amsterdam and joining Boom Chicago; returning to the U.S., developed a one-man show based on his time in the Netherlands called Five Years in Amsterdam

Stacey Smith (b. ca. 1987-91) – worked in improv for over a decade; currently a mainstage cast member at Boom Chicago; as of September 2022, she’s the artistic director; has performed in over 60 international festivals across North America and Europe

Joe Kelly (b. 1972) – writer and producer; known for Ted Lasso (2020), How I Met Your Mother (2005) and Saturday Night Live (1975); studied at Second City and Improv Olympic in Chicago; performed with Laughing Matters in Atlanta, Boom Chicago in Amsterdam, and Second City in Las Vegas

Jill Benjamin (b. early 1980s) – performed regularly at Chicago’s Improv Olympic and Second City; moved to Amsterdam as a member of the Boom Chicago; met Seth Meyers and they created their two-person show Pick-Ups & Hiccups, which played all over the world; resides in Los Angeles and produces and stars in numerous productions, including the staged-reading of the movie Clue at The Largo and with the improv group Deep Dish at the Hollywood Second City

[Jon Wertheim, a prolific sports journalist and author, is a correspondent for 60 Minutes, a position he’s held since joining the program in 2017.  He’s also a senior writer and executive editor for Sports Illustrated.  He has authored or co-authored 11 books, mostly on sports subjects. 

[Wertheim is a two-time Emmy winner and received the Eugene L. Scott Award from the International Tennis Hall of Fame in 2022 for his contributions to the sport.  He holds a Bachelor’s degree from Yale University (1993) and a Juris Doctor from the University of Pennsylvania (1997). 

[During his second year of law school), Sports Illustrated was specifically looking for an intern with a legal background to help cover the rise of legal issues in sports.  The magazine liked his work so much they offered to pay for his final year of law school if he joined them full-time upon graduation.  He started at SI the day after taking the bar exam. 

[Wertheim’s début segment for 60 Minutes was a profile of Japanese baseball star Shohei Ohtani, which aired shortly before Ohtani moved to Major League Baseball.  Since his start, he’s covered an expansive range of topics, from interviews with political figures like Ted Cruz to investigative pieces on international affairs and sports business.  Wertheim’s legal training is frequently useful in his investigative work on 60 Minutes segments.]

Slips of the Tongue

 

[On 22 January 2026, I posted “Fossil Words,” another word-focused piece among several on the subjects of words and writing that are on Rick On Theater.  I return to that topic now, focusing on word errors of various sorts that I find curious and interesting.  I hope you will find them so, too.

[On “Fossil Words,” I admitted to being a “wordie” and a “language geek.”  Now ROTters will see more proof of that confession. One note, however: I have interrupted the two articles to add more examples of the type of tongue-slips they discuss.] 

“SPOONERISMS, MONDEGREENS AND
OTHER COMMON LANGUAGE ERRORS”
by Thomas Moore Devlin 

[The article below was posted on the website Babbel on 11 September 2020.  Babbel is a German company operating a subscription-based language learning app and e-learning platform (www.babbel.com).  The company is headquartered in Berlin, operating as Babbel GmbH, and has an office in New York City, Babbel Inc.]

Is that thing you just said an eggcorn or a mondegreen?

Everyone makes occasional mistakes when they’re talking. Even if you’ve spoken English since birth, it won’t stop you from tripping over a phrase once in a while. And though these slip-ups might seem random, there are certain mistakes that tend to happen over and over. So much so, that they even have names, like spoonerisms (errors that happen when you’re talking) and mondegreens (errors that happen when you’re listening). We decided to look at these categories of linguistic lapses to see what they are and why they happen. Here are the backstories behind our mouths’ many missteps. 

Spoonerisms

What are they? This is when two sounds in a phrase are switched. While spoonerisms are usually a mistake, they’re sometimes used to create a fun play on words, like in Shel Silverstein’s Runny Babbit.

[Native Chicagoan Sheldon (“Shel”) Silverstein (1930-99) was a writer, cartoonist, songwriter, and musician.  He started out as a cartoonist, publishing work in Playboy and the military publication Stars and Stripes (he’d been drafted into the army in 1953 and served in Japan and Korea until 1955; his cartoons appeared in the Pacific edition of the paper), before turning to children’s books, which earned him several awards. (He used “Uncle Shelby” as a pen name for his early children’s books and adult satires. He wrote, drew, or composed his later works as “Shel Sivertstein.”) Silverstein’s the author and illustrator of numerous books, including The Giving Tree (Harper & Row, 1964), Where the Sidewalk Ends (Harper & Row, 1974), A Light in the Attic (Harper & Row, 1981), and Falling Up (HarperCollins, 1996). His books have been commended for their appeal to both adults and children.

[Silverstein’s poems are often darkly humorous, irreverent, and populated with invented characters, such as the “Bloath” in Where the Sidewalk Ends, who dwells “[i]n the undergrowth” and “feeds upon poets and tea.” Silverstein’s poems and stories are accompanied by his simple yet energetic pen-and-ink illustrations. The Giving Tree, a fable about a lifelong relationship between a boy and a tree, has become a classic in the canon of children’s literature and has sold over five million copies.

[As a songwriter, Silverstein wrote “The Cover of ‘Rolling Stone,’” recorded by Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show (1972); “The Unicorn,” for the Irish Rovers (1968); “A Boy Named Sue,” for Johnny Cash (1969); and “Queen of the Silver Dollar,” which Emmylou Harris covered on Pieces of the Sky (1975). Silverstein collaborated with playwright David Mamet (b. 1947) on Oh, Hell!, a pair of one-act plays staged at Lincoln Center Theater’s Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater in 1989, and the screenplay Things Change (Columbia Pictures, 1988).  The two men and Elaine May (b. 1932) also composed a trio of one-acts called Three Plays by Chicagoans, presented at the Goodman Theatre in 1983.]

Example: Saying “mand bembers” instead of “band members.”

Where does the name come from? Spoonerisms are named after William Archibald Spooner [1844-1930; British clergyman], who was a professor at the University of Oxford. He was a widely beloved man with entertaining quirks. One such quirk is that he would often mix up letters, which is why his name became forever attached to this phenomenon. You can find many quotes attributed to him on the internet — most famously calling for a toast to the “queer old dean” instead of the “dear old queen” [that would be Queen Victoria (1819-1901; Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland: 1837-1901)] — but most of the time those are inaccurate. While it’s documented that Spooner did have funny slip-ups, many of the quotes allegedly “by” him are manufactured in the same way that many quotes are erroneously attributed to Winston Churchill [1874-1965; British statesman and writer; Prime Minister of the United Kingdom: 1940-45 and 1951-55] or Mark Twain [pseudonym of Samuel Langhorne Clemens; 1835-1910; writer, humorist, and essayist].

Why do they happen? The way your brain turns ideas into words is complicated, and there’s plenty of research still to be done on the whole process. It seems, though, that spoonerisms occur because of a problem in your “speech plan.” A speech plan is basically the plan that your brain makes to move your mouth to emit sounds that convey what you want to say. When you say “chocolate” for example, your brain has to tell your mouth how to move to go from the “ch” sound to the “k” sound to the “l” sound to the “t” sound, with vowels in between. This process is generally seamless — you probably have never had to think about where to put your tongue and when — but sometimes your brain gets mixed up. And these mix-ups are often because you have two possible speech plans and your brain isn’t sure which to use, so it splits the difference. Once in a while, this will result in a spoonerism.

[Two possible reasons you might need to think about how to make speech sounds are when you’re first learning a new language or taking on an accent with which you hadn’t grown up (e.g.: an American actor playing a British character—or vice versa). Someone suffering from aphasia might also need to do this.]

§ § §

I first learned about spoonerisms in middle school.  We had study halls scheduled during the school day, but occasionally the period would run twice as long as normal.  Such an occasion was dubbed a “double study hall.”  One afternoon, one of my teachers announced that that day, we’d have a “duddy stubble hall.” 

The teacher laughed at her mistake and explained that that was what was called a spoonerism, and explained what that was and even where the name came from.  Since that day—probably around 65 years ago now—I’ve never forgotten the word or the expression “duddy stubble hall.”

Here are some more examples of spoonerisms:

First, some examples attributed to the Reverend Spooner (remembering Thomas Moore Devlin’s admonition above)

“Kistomary to cuss the bride” (Customary to kiss the bride)

“The Lord is a shoving leopard” (Loving shepherd)

“You have tasted a whole worm” (Wasted a whole term)

“Is the bean dizzy?” (Dean busy?)

“Mardon me padom, you are occupewing my pie” (Pardon me madam, you are occupying my pew)

Some other instances:

A lack of pies (Pack of lies)
Shake a tower (Take a shower)
Chipping the flannels (Flipping the channels)
Wave the sails (Save the whales)
A blushing crow (Crushing blow)
Fight a liar (Light a fire)
Doggy fay (Foggy day)
Birty dirds (Dirty birds)
Bad salad (Sad ballad)
Cat flap (Flat cap) 

§ § §

Mondegreens

What are they? This is when you hear something incorrectly, but it ends up making sense to you anyway. Often, they happen with music or poetry.

Example: One famous example is in Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple [Haze]” [1967], where the line is “’Scuse me while I kiss the sky,” but many people have misheard it as “’Scuse me while I kiss this guy.”

Where does the name come from? The name “mondegreen” originated in a 1954 Harper’s [Magazine] essay, in which author Sylvia Wright [1917-81] mentions mishearing a line in the poem “The Bonnie Earl O’ Moray” [may date from as early as the 17th century]. The line actually said “They hae slain the Earl o’ Moray / And laid him on the green,” but she had heard “And Lady Mondegreen.” In that reading, it would be a double murder, instead of a murder and a funeral.

Why do they happen? There’s some debate about what causes mondegreens. Most psychologists agree that they often happen in music because it’s a one-sided medium, there’s often very little context, and singers and poets use words and phrases that not everyone will be familiar with. The disagreement is how the brain comes up with the incorrect hearing. Steven Connor [b. 1955], a professor of English at the University of Cambridge, has argued that if your brain can’t make sense of a lyric, it will simply fill in what would make the most sense. On the other side of it, psychologist and linguist Steven Pinker [b. 1954] has said often the mondegreens make less sense than the original phrase. Therefore, he says mondegreens are not necessarily what makes the most sense, but instead is what the brain most wants to hear. Either way, they have become a funny cultural phenomenon.

§ § §

Mondegreens I learned about many years later, but still sometime back in the ’80s or ’90s.  I came across one somewhere, though I don’t recall where, and someone parsed it and provided the name and source of the term.

Some More Music Mondegreens:

“Hold me closer, Tony Danza” (“Hold me closer, tiny dancer” from Elton John’s song: “Tiny Dancer”)

“The girl with colitis goes by” (“The girl with kaleidoscope eyes” from The Beatles’ song: “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”)

“Wrapped up like a douche” (“Revved up like a deuce” from Manfred Mann's Earth Band’s song: “Blinded by the Light”)

“There's a bathroom on the right” (“There's a bad moon on the rise” from Creedence Clearwater Revival’s song: “Bad Moon Rising”)

“Lorraine is gone” (“The rain is gone” from Johnny Nash’s song: “I Can See Clearly Now”)

Other Common Examples:

“And to the Republic, for Richard Stands” (Pledge of Allegiance: “. . . for which it stands")

“José, can you see . . .” (National Anthem: “O, say, can you see . . .“).

“Spit and image” (“Spitting image”)

§ § §

Eggcorns

What are they? Similar to mondegreens, eggcorns occur when a common phrase is changed to another similar- or identical-sounding phrase.

Example: Saying “for all intensive purposes” instead of “for all intents and purposes.” 

Where does the name come from? The word was coined by linguist Geoffrey Pullum [b. 1945] in 2003. It is itself an eggcorn of the word “acorn.” 

Why do they happen? While malapropism are word replacements that render a statement entirely nonsensical, an eggcorn tends to make at least some sense. The phrase “deep-seated,” for example, is often replaced by “deep-seeded.” While it’s not technically correct, it’s pronounced exactly the same way by Americans and the meaning of the original term — that something is particularly deeply placed — is still there. Eggcorns also sometimes happen because a phrase is antiquated, and so the speaker is unfamiliar with the original term. An example of this is people calling something the “death nail” instead of the more proper “death knell,” because who says “knell” anymore [see ‘knell’ in “Fossil Words” (22 January 2026)]?

§ § §

‘Eggcorn’ was new to me; I never heard it before I started this post.  Of course, it the newest of the slips of the tongue, the name only having been coined 22 years ago.

By the way, Devlin states that the name ‘eggcorn’ is, itself, an eggcorn—for the word ‘acorn.’  He doesn’t relate how the word came to be coined.  I looked it up, and the story is that linguist Geoffrey Pullum, in conversation with a fellow linguist on a linguistics blog, learned of a woman who’d mistakenly written “egg corn bread” in an 1844 letter when she meant “egg corn bread.”

Pullum realized there was no formal name for this specific type of mistake—where a word is misheard but replaced with a phrase that is both phonetically similar and semantically logical.  He suggested using ‘eggcorn’ as the name for the category because it was the perfect, self-referential example, since the new word sounds nearly identical to ‘acorn’ in many dialects and an acorn is roughly egg-shaped and is a type of seed or grain, much like a kernel of corn.

Eggcorn Examples:

For all intensive purposes (Correct: For all intents and purposes — Suggests the purposes are thorough or “intensive.”)

Old-timer’s disease (Correct: Alzheimer’s disease — Plausible because the disease primarily affects older people.)

Nip it in the butt (Correct: Nip it in the bud — Implies stopping someone with a physical "nip," whereas the original refers to stopping a plant from blooming.)

Deep-seeded (Correct: Deep-seated — Makes sense as something planted deep in the ground, though the original refers to a position or “seat.”)

Mute point (Correct: Moot point — Suggests a point that is silent or has no voice, though ‘moot’ actually means ‘debatable’ or ‘irrelevant.’)

Doggy-dog world (Correct: Dog-eat-dog world — A playful but logical mishearing of a cutthroat environment.)

Pique my interest (Correct: Peak my interest — While ‘pique’ means to stimulate, ‘peak’ implies reaching the highest level of interest.)

Ex-patriot (Correct: Expatriate — A person living outside their native country might be seen as a ‘former patriot.’)

Escape goat (Correct: Scapegoat — Someone who “escapes” blame by shifting it to another.)

§ § §

Freudian Slips

What are they? These are speech errors that are caused by someone’s unconscious mind slipping up to the surface. Today, the term has been generalized by some people to refer to any speech error.

Example: Freudian slips don’t have many general examples because they are supposed to be connected to a single speaker’s innermost thoughts. For an example from pop culture, there is an episode of Friends [TV sitcom, NBC, 1994-2004; 7 May 1998: “The One with Ross's Wedding: Part 2”] where Ross is getting married to Emma. During his vows, however, he says he would “take thee Rachel,” which is the name of his ex-girlfriend. The implication in the episode is that he still had deep feelings for Rachel, and thus the error ruined the wedding.

Where does the name come from? Sigmund Freud [1856-1939], the famed 20th-century psychologist from Vienna, Austria, is renowned for connecting actions to deep, unacknowledged desires. This phrase comes from his work in The Psychopathology of Everyday Life [Zur Psychopathologie des Alltagslebens; 1904], a book that has an exhaustive list of errors that he argues carry great significance.

Why do they happen? While certainly a giant in the field of psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud is largely discredited today. Cognitive psychologists [expert in the study of the mental processes involved in perception, learning, memory, and reasoning] tend to believe that, for the most part, there are more innocent explanations for the slips of the tongue (some of which are mentioned in the other sections of this article). People are more likely to make mistakes when they’re tired or distracted, meaning sometimes the brain, like any other part of the body, simply erred. But there is something tempting about the idea that someone’s true feelings could be given away by a misplaced utterance.

If Freudian slips are a real phenomenon, though, they are very difficult to test. How does one research the innermost thoughts of someone? Well, in 1979, they decided to try with a strange study. Researchers collected a number of “heterosexual males,” who were split up into three groups. The first group, the control, was met by a middle-aged professor and told to repeat word pairs that were designed to encourage spoonerisms, like saying “mack bud” instead of “back mud.” The second group did the same thing but instead of a middle-aged professor, they were met by a female lab assistant wearing “a very short skirt and sort of a translucent blouse.” The second group was more likely to make sexual spoonerisms (“fast passion” instead of “past fashion”), but they made the same number of mistakes overall. The third group was back with the middle-aged professor, but they were told that there was a chance of receiving an electric shock at some point during the study, though that didn’t actually happen. The electrified third group, like the seduced second group, made more mistakes related to their stimulus (“cursed wattage” instead of “worst cottage”). The results would seem to match the theory that people’s mistakes are influenced by what’s on their mind.

There is some evidence, then, that if something is particularly weighing on you, it could cause some sort of mistake in your speech. But the vast majority of mistakes likely don’t have such a strong subtext. When you ask someone for “pashed motato,” it’s not because there’s something in your subconscious that switched around the letters. Even without the psychological underpinnings, though, verbal slips can be a source of plenty of entertainment.

§ § §

One night in a performance of a play when I was an MFA candidate in grad school, a word came out of my mouth that wasn’t in the script. I was playing a solder, the commander of a unit in combat in which I was mortally wounded. 

I was captured after the battle and when I surrendered to victorious officer, I was supposed to say, “I beg you to treat my soldiers as men of honor.”  What I said that night, however, was “I beg you to treat my soldiers as men of iron"!  I don’t know where that even came from. Was it a Freudian slip . . . or just a flubbed line?

The actor playing my foe was standing face-to-face with me, a few inches apart at center stage. As I spoke those nonsensical words, I knew I was screwing up, but it was too late to stop, and the other actor—a pro from New York City, by the way—had a look of perplexity and, yes, fear, on his face which he was fiercely trying to hide from the audience seated on all four sides of our environmental performing area.

We nevertheless went on as if I’d said the most appropriate thing imaginable! (Later, I attributed the slip to the title of the Polish movie Man of Iron, but Andrzej Wajda’s film didn’t come out until 1981 and the show in which I misspoke was performed in 1976.)

Here are various examples and types of Freudian slips:

The Ex-Partner Slip: Calling your current partner by your ex's name, suggesting lingering feelings or comparisons.  (This, of course, is the basis for the humor/drama in the Friends example Devlin uses above.)

The “Mother” Joke: A standard definition of a Freudian slip is: When you say one thing but mean another.  The joke version changes it to: “A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.”

Unhappy Greeting: Saying “I’m sad to meet you” instead of “I’m glad to meet you” when you actually dislike someone.

Work Blunder: Telling a boss “I'm excited to stop working here” instead of “start”.

Sibling Mix-up: Calling one child by their sibling’s name.  (My mother never called me by my brother’s name, or vice versa, but when she got pretty old, she did call me by my father’s name, though he’d been dead for nearly 20 years by then.)

“Bald” Egg: A waitress saying, “Here’s your bald egg” instead of “boiled” egg—to a customer who has a noticeably bald head.

[Thomas Moore Devlin is the editorial lead, and he has been at Babbel for over six years.  He studied linguistics in college, and also has a background in English literature.  He now lives in Berlin, where he spends most of his free time walking around and reading an unhealthy number of books.]

*  *  *  *
“WHAT IS A MALAPROPISM?
THE DEFINITION WITH EXAMPLES”
by Steph Koyfman

[Also on Babbel, posted on 7 February 2020, comes a second article on another category of word errors.]

For all intensive purposes, malapropisms are a fun figure of speech — and they can teach us
something important about language. 

When Welsh Conservative leader Andrew Davies [b. 1968] told the Tory Party conference [Birmingham, England, 5 October 2016] “we’ll make breakfast a success,” he wasn’t referring to baked beans and blood sausage. What he meant to say was “we’ll make Brexit a success.” And when he made this verbal fumble, he wasn’t just providing the internet with more easily memeable content — he was unwittingly demonstrating a particular figure of speech known as malapropism.

What’s A Malapropism?

Merriam-Webster defines a malapropism [also often called simply a ‘malaprop’] as “the usually unintentionally humorous misuse or distortion of a word or phrase; especially: the use of a word sounding somewhat like the one intended but ludicrously wrong in the context. 

This last bit is key, because a malapropism isn’t just any old verbal slip-up. By comparing the “wrong” word with the one intended, it’s often very easy to see (or hear) how the mistake was made in the first place. A pretty common example is “for all intensive purposes.” It sort of sounds right, but the correct phrase is “for all intents and purposes.” Close, but no caviar.

The word “malapropism” actually comes from a 1775 play by Richard Sheridan [1751-1816; Anglo-Irish playwright] called The Rivals. The character Mrs. Malaprop was famous for her verbal gaffes, which included such gems as “contagious countries” instead of “contiguous countries” and “reprehend” instead of “comprehend.” The name Mrs. Malaprop, in turn, comes from the French term mal à propos, which means “inappropriate” or “poorly placed.”

You might also hear this referred to as a Dogberryism, after the character Dogberry in [William] Shakespeare’s [1564-1616] Much Ado About Nothing. Dogberry was also responsible for many iconic turns of phrase, such as “comprehended two auspicious persons” instead of “apprehended two suspicious persons.”

What Can They Teach Us?

The average malapropism provides us with entertainment value, and that, in itself, is something. But they also signal something important about the way language works.

Philosopher Donald Davidson [1917-2003] had a lot of thoughts about malapropisms. In his 1986 paper “A Nice Derangement of Epitaphs,” he argues that malapropisms are proof that the brain often grasps the meta-structure of language and can correct for mistakes within, even if they distort the literal meaning of certain words. In other words, we have the ability to understand the intended meaning of a phrase, even when it’s slightly garbled.

Davidson distinguishes between “prior theory,” how a listener is prepared to interpret the speaker, and “passing theory,” how the listener actually interprets what’s said. The speaker also has a “passing theory,” which is what they intend with their statement. For communication to occur, both passing theories must coincide. And ultimately, what this means is that at its core, there are no hard and fast rules, or even rote consistency, in language. Davidson writes,

“For there are no rules for arriving at passing theories, no rules in any strict sense, as opposed to rough maxims and methodological generalities. A passing theory really is like a theory at least in this, that it is derived by wit, luck, and wisdom from a private vocabulary and grammar, knowledge of the ways people get their point across, and rules of thumb for figuring out what deviations from the dictionary are most likely. There is no more chance of regularizing, or teaching, this process than there is of regularizing or teaching the process of creating new theories to cope with new data in any field—for that is what this process involves.”

Another neat feature of the malapropism? There are linguistic methods to the madness. Linguist Jean Aitchison [b. 1938] noted that malapropisms often preserve the part of speech of the “correct” word, and they also often have the same number of syllables and pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables. She argues that this suggests the part of speech “is an integral part of the word, and tightly attached to it,” and that, by extension, “the abstract meaning of a word is tightly attached to its word class.”

What Do Malapropisms Look Like In Various Languages?

Many famous malapropisms weren’t necessarily the intentional work of playwrights like Shakespeare — they come from public figures making unintentional mistakes that will probably haunt them forever.

Here are a few examples of famous malapropisms in English:

“Create a little dysentery [instead of ‘dissent] among the ranks.” — Christopher Moltisanti of The Sopranos

“No one is the suppository [repository] of all wisdom.” — Former Australian Prime Minister Tony Abbott

“He was a man of great statue [stature].” — Former Boston Mayor Thomas Menino

“It’s not rocket fuel [science].” — Former Scottish First Minister Henry McLeish

“Weapons of mass production [destruction].” — Former U.S. President George W. Bush

“He eludes [exudes] confidence.” — Former NYPD Commissioner William Bratton, referring to Barack Obama

Do malapropisms exist in other languages? But of course! One Spanish malapropism is so popular that it’s become a common expression in Spain. Former Miss Spain Sofía Mazagatos [b. 1974] once said that she preferred bullfighters who were “in the candelabra” (estar en el candelabro) instead of “in the candlestick” (estar en el candelero), a turn of phrase that means “very famous.”

Also in Spanish, the words pecado (sin) and pescado (fish) are dangerously similar. It wouldn’t be terribly hard to conflate the two and say that you’ve “committed a grave fish.”

In German, the word for Sisyphean task (Sisyphosarbeit) and “syphilis work” (Syphilisarbeit) are also close enough to create a live wire of verbal peril.

Essentially, any word that shares a similar sound, part of speech, and/or metric structure could replace the “correct” word and create a malapropism. The result is that we simultaneously understand the intended meaning and find humor in the mistake. And once in a while, there’s something kind of appropriate about an inappropriately placed word.

§ § §

True malapropisms are unintentional, but many writers invent them to create humor.  Here a few literary and character examples:

“The very pineapple of politeness” (instead of pinnacle) — Mrs. Malaprop, The Rivals

“Illiterate him quite from your memory” (instead of obliterate) — Mrs. Malaprop, The Rivals

“She's as headstrong as an allegory on the banks of the Nile” (meant alligator) — Mrs. Malaprop, The Rivals 

“Comparisons are odorous, palabras” (meant odious) — Dogberry, Much Ado About Nothing

“You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the constable of the watch” (instead of sensible) — Dogberry, Much Ado About Nothing

“. . . he is indited to dinner to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street . . .” (instead of invited) — Mistress Quickly, Henry IV (Part 2)

“If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you” (meant conference) — Nurse, Romeo and Juliet

“Capital punishment is a detergent to crime” (meant deterrent) — Archie Bunker, All in the Family

Some real-life blunders:

Mike Tyson once said he might “fade into Bolivian” (instead of oblivion)

Justin Bieber noted he didn’t want a tattoo look inspired by the “Sixteenth Chapel” (instead of the Sistine Chapel)

Yogi Berra was famous for saying, “Texas has a lot of electrical votes” (rather than electoral votes)

George W. Bush famously coined the term “misunderestimated” (for underestimated)

Richard J. Daley, the former Chicago mayor, once recommended “Alcoholics Unanimous” to those with drinking problems (instead of Alcoholics Anonymous)

Some ordinary malapropisms:

Don't take me for granite (instead of taken for granted)
Wolf in cheap clothing (instead of wolf in sheep’s clothing)
Dance a flamingo (instead of dance a flamenco)
Photogenic memory (meant photographic)

[Steph Koyfman is a senior content producer who has spent over five years writing about language and culture for Babbel.  She grew up bilingually and had an early love affair with books, and, later, studied English literature and journalism in college.  Koyfman also speaks Russian and Spanish, but she’s a little rusty on those fronts.]

§ § §

One of the lingual slip-up that isn’t covered in either of the two articles I reposted above is the folk etymology.  These occur when unfamiliar words are altered over time to resemble more familiar ones, rationalizing their form based on mistaken assumptions.  Common folk etymologies were often driven by mishearing, foreign borrowing, or attempts to make sense of old terms.

Here are notable examples and types of folk etymologies:

‘Asparagus became ‘sparrowgrass’en the original gome (‘man’) was replaced by ‘groom’ (‘stable boy’) because the former word became extinct

Cucaracha became ‘cockroach’ when the original Spanish pronunciation was mangled to sound like ‘cock’ and ‘roach’

The Algonquian otchek became ‘woodchuck’ when the indigenous name was altered to fit English words

The French chaise longue (‘long chair’) became ‘chaise lounge’ when the foreign word was reinterpreted as ‘lounge.’  It didn’t hurt that ‘lounge’ is a perfect anagram for the French word longue.

The Middle English agnail was changed to ‘hangnail’ because it usually appears on the side of a fingernail

The Middle English shamefast changed to ‘shamefaced’ because ‘fast’ in the sense of ‘fixed’ or ‘firm’ (as in “hold fast”) was no longer common; it was rationalized to ‘faced’ because a bashful person’s face often turns red.

§ § §

Another type of speech error that wasn’t covered is the malaphor.  This is an informal term for a “mixed idiom”—specifically when someone unintentionally blends two separate aphorisms, idioms, or clichés into one nonsensical (and often humorous) phrase.

The name itself is a portmanteau word of malapropism and metaphor, coined by writer Lawrence Harrison (1932-2015) in 1976. 

One rather interesting occurrence of a malaphor had an interesting repercussion.  In 1988 at the Democratic National Convention, Ann Richards (1933-2006), then the Texas State Treasurer, famously said, “Poor George, he can't help it—he was born with a silver foot in his mouth,” during her keynote address.

Richards was actually mocking then-Vice President George H. W. Bush (1924-2018; 43rd Vice President of the United States: 1981-1989; 41st President of the United States: 1989-1993), not his son George W. Bush.

George H. W. Bush had a good sense of humor about the jibe; after winning the presidency, he sent Richards a small silver foot-shaped pin as a “peace offering.”  The consequence, some historians believe, was that this public skewering of the elder Bush motivated his son, George W. Bush (b. 1946; 43rd President of the United States: 2001-09), to run against Richards for Texas Governor in 1994—a race he won.

Examples of malaphors (you should recognize easily the two clichés mashed together):

“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”
“He said it off the top of his cuff.”
“It’s as easy as falling off a piece of cake.”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.”
“Does the Pope shit in the woods?”
“You hit the nail right on the nose.”
“He’s burning the midnight oil from both ends.”
“I can read him like the back of my book.”
“That train has sailed.”

TV malaphors:

      “How the turntables . . .” (The Office)
“Get two birds stoned at once.” (Trailer Park Boys)
“If we hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards.          Checkmate.” (Futurama)
“That kind of buzz we should avoid in droves.” (The Sopranos) 

Movie malaphors:

      “Eat my rubber!” (National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation)
“It’s spilled milk under the bridge.” (Margin Call)
“You sowed your own poison, man!” (Pineapple Express)

[Catachresis is the closest to a "catch-all" term for all these speech and word errors.  It refers to any use of a word that’s not correct or defies conventional meaning.  While it’s sometimes used as a rhetorical device for poetic effect (like "blind mouths" in John Milton’s 1637 pastoral elegy “Lycidas”), it technically encompasses any strained or “incorrect” application of one word in place of another.]