What's the Deal with, Like, the English Language?

I’ve been knee-deep in rumination lately, pondering the way the English language has changed in modern times—albeit not for the better. I purposefully used the word “rumination” because every time I use it, I picture a happy brown cow, nosing some delectable field greens, jaws grinding. In other words, ruminating. I am not quite sure how “ruminate”—which means to chew the cud—morphed into a verb that means to meditate or muse, but I’m happy it did because I like cows (sort of) and I’m hoping they like me (not really).

I deal with words every day, whether I’m reading a picture book to a gaggle of 3-year-olds or working on a column. I am constantly seeking out topics to write about, which means I listen very closely to what people are saying: the words they use, the adjectives they choose, and the cadence of their speech. I also pay close attention to words that are overused and/or misused. Farther and further, for example, are often mixed up—as they should be because, really, who cares?

Grabbing a bite is just not done anymore however, unless you’re one of the attractive vampires that populate the entertainment world. (Speaking of vampires, isn’t it time for werewolves and hunchbacks to make a comeback?) The proper phrase for dining out in midday is “doing lunch.” For the evening meal, omit the word “lunch” and insert a foodstuff in its place: “Wanna do Chinese?"; "Wanna do pizza or burgers?”

"Wanna" and "gonna" are two made-up words now spoken by everyone. I was gonna elaborate but I think you might wanna know where I get off, making light of the way we speak now. Consonants seem to be on everyone’s naughty list these days, so rarely do you hear that final “g” on the words working, going or living. Whatever happened to flowery speech? When did we become too busy to enjoy speaking properly?

That’s a rhetorical question, because we rarely talk anymore. We’re too busy texting. Who needs to speak when your agile thumbs can do it for you? I still hunt and peck with my index finger, though I did look into buying some new-and-improved thumbs on Amazon. (No Black Friday specials on that item.)

Idioms are a lost art. No one says, “I was as mad as a wet hen” anymore. Now, you’re more likely to hear “I was as mad as_________.” Insert whichever profanity you prefer because it seems profanity has replaced some of the more colorful expressions that used to adorn our language.  

Idioms are so interesting and descriptive. They’re also very confusing to someone learning English. How do you explain the term "on pins and needles,” or try to explain what it means when you describe someone as being a “loose cannon"? I miss idioms and plan on spending next week speaking only in idioms, because after all, I am a bit long in the tooth. 

I was listening to “Fresh Air” on NPR not long ago, when I heard an author talking to Terri Gross about new-cue-lur arms, not to be confused with nuclear arms. This was a learned gentleman with copious credibility in D.C. and he still couldn’t say the word properly? Along this thread, jewelry is often pronounced jew-ler-ee, athletes have become atha-letes, and realtors are now real-it-tors. Don’t even get me started on the mangling of my birth month, Feb-brew-ary.

Lest you think I am a language snob, I assure you I have inserted many “you knows” into conversation and have been known to drop a “g” at least once a day. I will also admit to having said the most annoying word in the English language—the word “like.” 

At one time it was the provenance of teen-speak. Now, it’s, like, pouring out of, like, everyone’s mouth, like, all the time. So, like, I was wondering—is this like a 20th-century thing, or have people, like, always, like, shoved that word into, like, every sentence? I am like so, like, fed up with intelligent people, like, liking that word, aren’t you? 

Upon researching the word, I discovered it’s been misused for quite a while. It was used to describe a man’s workspace (“No, he’s got, like, a loft”) in a New Yorker cartoon, circa 1928. One of the hooligans in A Clockwork Orange proclaims, “I, like, didn’t say anything.” 

If you find that you’re chronically inserting the word  “like” in a willy-nilly, fashion, you need to slow down and think about what you’re saying. This might be difficult because who wants to slow down and really think? Who’s got time for that?

Would you like to eliminate that rascally word from your otherwise intelligent-sounding monologue? If so, you’re not alone. The popular how-to website, Wikihow, has a nine-step program complete with photos to help the visual learners out there. This program should not be confused with the 12-step programs out there, unless perhaps you’re a substance abuser who, like, can’t stop saying the word "like," like, all the time. If that’s the case, I suppose you’re in a 21-one step program, which is far too many steps for one flawed human to follow. I suggest you, like, give up now.

Step number one is admitting that you have a problem. Speak slowly and try to stop yourself before you use the word “like” inappropriately. If you really listen to the words spewing out of your mouth, you might be able to catch one or two “likes” before they muddy the impact of your verbiage. 

Then, um, you’re on your own, you know, because I can’t be, like, policing the way you, like, talk. I am way too busy eavesdropping and impressing toddlers with my incredibly awesome vocabulary!