The moment the syllables spilled from my mouth, I knew I’d screwed up.    

“And a repeat offender...” I said.  “Verse a detective dog.”   

Verse.   

It was the opening few stanzas of last night’s news, the part of the show where we tease a few of the evening’s top stories. And as the opening credits played, with my microphone fader pulled down, I called out to my producer in frustration with myself.    

“Versus!” I said. “VERSUS.” 

The emails flooded in. I knew they’d be waiting for me. Polite but gently critical messages, kindly informing me that due to myriad inadequacies in the New Zealand education system, I’d used a term more appropriately associated with Shakespeare or Keats than that of the cunning pest control dog starring in the evening bulletin. 

But hey. Did you notice there how I used myriad? I don’t know about you, but it drives me crazy when I hear people talk about a myriad OF something. It shouldn’t because apparently a myriad ‘of’ is perfectly correct. Myriad started its English language life in noun form. And yet anytime someone opts for ‘myriad of’ instead of the adjective usage, the snooty language snob in me can’t help but curl his toes.

It’s the same when people say less instead of fewer. There are not less than thirty days until the new year. There are fewer than thirty days. Duh. And I hate to admit it, but I’m not fussed whether you’re a stranger, a colleague, or my long-suffering wife, I’m that miserable sod who can’t help but wait fewer than a few split seconds before pretentiously correcting your mistake.

The other one that gets my goat (and yes, it gets my goat... it doesn’t get up my goat) is when anyone observes that the proof is in the pudding. The proof is not in the pudding. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. Makes sense when you actually think about it. 

Speaking of mastication, my Dad was recently spun into a state of despair by the repeated insistence of a prominent sportsperson that they were chomping at the bit for an upcoming contest. Chomping at the bit, rather than champing at the bit. I suppose that really would be a remarkable level of excitement. 

I know that language is alive. I know that language morphs and evolves. But for those of us who care to conserve usage principles and don’t mind putting others right from time, there is nothing like erring while reading the news before 700,000 people, for a rude taste of one’s own medicine. How quickly the corrector becomes the corrected. 

Myriad grammar and usage errors might get my goat, but I’ve learnt the hard way there are plenty of other grammar and usage tyrants champing at the bit to correct every error. Who knows if my cautionary tale will have any impact —the proof of the pudding is in the eating— but if you’ve learnt anything, maybe you’ll make fewer errors rather than less, after listening to this verse.  

You know... as opposed to versus.