It's all just talk

The older I get, the more preoccupied I become about the way people talk. This may seem to be a trivial matter; I beg to differ. Despite the onslaught of alternative communication methods - texting, IM-ing, emails - talking to one another is still the predominant manner in which we humans let each other know what's on our collective minds.

There are all kinds of talkers out there, but I believe most of them can be divided into five basic groups. Let's start with the group that annoys the living crap out of nearly everyone - The Likers.

When did the "like" phenomenon start? The genesis of it is cloudy at best. Some linguists put the blame on the inane, classic television show called The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, which is before even my time, and I'm a relative dinosaur at the age of thirty-seven.

Remember when the inexplicably popular program Lost used to be a comedy called Gilligan's Island? Well, ol' Gilligan, AKA Bob Denver, got his start on Gillis, and his character, Maynard G. Krebs, used like as often as athletes refer to themselves in the third person. But it hardly seems possible that one TV show could be responsible for the cancerous influx of like into our lexicon. And anyway, Gilligan-to-be had to get like from somewhere.

One thing we can all agree on; this verbal trend originated in California and moved eastward like The Blob on steroids. Between movies such as Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Valley Girl (not to mention the Frank Zappa song of the same name), like made its way into the throats of teenage girls from Ventura Blvd. to Vermont. It then spread to teenage boys and made its way to adults sometime in the 90's. Now we all sound like a bunch of fucking morons.

Even the President is riding the like van, which hardly seems surprising, since he can barely speak English to begin with. When referring to social security, Bush said "The system was about to, like, fall into the abyss." Regardless of how illiterate the current president might be; when the CIC says it, it's legitimate. Kind of, like, normalcy.

There are many subsets within the Likers, but the teenage/recently teenage girl still holds sway over the rest. There is a particular manner of speech which the nationwide valley girls use today, and it is nearly enough to send me into massive fits of spitting convulsions. For some reason, about 75 percent of American females between the ages of 15 - 25 finish each sentence with an upward, rising inflection, as if they are uncertain about something or are asking a question. It's been my totally unscientific observation that the more a particular girl has that "attractive, fun, cute cheerleader" thing going, the more likely they are be an upward inflecting imbecile.

Mix that inflection in with 17 likes per minute and it's a miracle I haven't killed someone yet.

"Well, I was like, shopping. And then Ashley called me and was like 'What are you doing?' And I was like "shopping, like what are you doing?" And she was like "Nothing, I'm like so totally bored, I want to do something ..."

Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!

The excellent newspaper known as The Cleveland Plain Dealer did an article on the like profusion, and interviewed Temple University polyglot Muffy Siegel on the subject. Here's what she had to say about like:

"It is a good, useful meaningful word because it expresses a meaning we don't otherwise have in English, which is, 'I'm about to say something with the best wording I can think of, but don't hold me to it exactly.' "

Let e respond to that by using one of my favorite words in the English language.

Bullshit!

First, never trust a linguist named Muffy. Second, anytime a person uses like outside a few logical instances, it can always be replaced by another word that accurately conveys the point that the person is trying to make. Most of the time, it can be left out entirely. If you're shopping, just say you're shopping! If you are retelling a story, why say like when you can say said? And how about using good old for instance? Where did that go? Can I get an approximately?!?!

In my opinion, it can't be a good thing for language if one word replaces seventeen others with which it is not synonymous.

Next, we have The Um-ers. Now, I'm a bit of an um-er, but I do make an effort to curtail it as best I can. In my high school, the American History teacher - a bland, balding gent permanently dressed in an aging V-neck sweater named Mr. McCullough - was the most prolific um-er I've even known. My friend once counted 136 ums in one 45 minute class. That's a lot of ums.

It's much more interesting to try and figure out why the ums happen than from where they came.

These language fillers are called phonemes. They exist in nearly every language in the world, are basically made up of the easiest vowel/consonant combination in any given language that the average human can muster, and are used for a variety of reasons. In general, they serve as a quick way of saying "Wait a moment, I'm not done making my point and I don't want to be interrupted, so shut your damn pie hole until I can get my thoughts together." Of course, there are plenty of a-holes out there who will interrupt you anyway, they moment they sense an opening. But for most of us, um is an acceptable pause in thought which most reasonable people respect.

And since I'm an um-er, it is a perfectly alright to say it every so often - but definitely not 136 times in less than an hour.

Then there's the You Know What I Mean/You See What I'm Saying set. What they are looking for is acceptance. They've said something, and they are not sure they articulated it well enough, so they need you to reassure them. "Yes, I do know what you mean. Please continue, as I clearly understand your point." My mother drove that out of my system when I was a youngster.

Whenever I would ask "You see what I'm saying?" Mom's reply would be, "No, I don't see what you're saying. I hear what you're saying, however." At the time, that kind of comment wasn't appreciated, but today, I'm an excellent talker and I owe it all to Mom.

The fourth group is in some ways the most annoying of the bunch - yes, even more so than The Likers. For lack of a better term, I will call them the Wannabe Science Professors. They like to pontificate as if they possess some magnificent knowledge that you could never hope to acquire. They talk profusely with their hands and use words like "ubiquitous" and "esoteric" because they are sure you are mighty impressed by 'em. Most of all, they are very pleased with themselves, and can never understand why everybody else isn't quite so pleased. And don't you dare disagree with them, unless you are looking for a "What college did you go to" pissing contest.

Exception: if you are actually a science professor, then it is okay to talk like that. Anyone else gets bitch slapped at the first utterance of "proletarian."

Fifth and finally, we have the Silent Bobs. One can never be sure about the Silent Bobs, and that's they way they like it. They say as few words as possible. Are they moody? Are they stoically laconic? Are they socially inept? Or are they just plain stupid? One never knows, and Silent Bob feels a sense of satisfaction about that. Unfortunately, Silent Bob can never keep a girlfriend.

Oh my God! This column is, like, so long! I had to, like, totally scroll down to finish it, you know what I mean? Talk about promulgating your cogitations!

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Evan Redmon is a manager of a public golf course in Washington, DC and writes a few things about stuff sometimes. Contact him at evanredmon@yahoo.com if you really want.