Several months ago, I wrote a column titled, “When I listen to Rosie O’Donnell, I’m like Œwow.'” The column explicated the many sins people, especially Rosie, commit in the name of “like,” the most common sin being its use as a sub for “I said something like.”
For example, rather than conjuring up the exact words you exchanged with your blind date, you take the shortcut and use “like” as the attributive, this way: “I was like Œduh’ when he asked me out again.” “Like” is, like, way overused.
The “like” column drew lots of feedback, and though most people like agreed with the misuse of like, a number of them added their own pet peeves. A woman I know only as Margie said, “You know what bugs me the most? It’s hearing people keep saying Œyou know,’ you know.”
Another person, a West Las Vegas teacher, pointed out that he couldn’t prevent his students from inserting “I mean” in every locution, this way: “I did my homework. I mean I almost finished it.”
Andy Rooney of “60 Minutes” lamented his own overuse of “I mean” and even provided a minute’s worth of edited tapes in which he said “I mean” 45 times during several interviews.
So what do “I mean” and “you know” have in common? They’re both oral attempts at filling in any nano-second pause in conversation; they’re like aspirated pauses meant to further explain meaning. But the trouble is that some people get so involved in merely counting the instances of “ya know” and “I mean” that they fail to get the import of the statement.
It’s perfectly all right to say “I mean” in the following sentence: “I mean it when I say this is good chile.” But it shouldn’t appear gratuitously. I mean, it needs to be anchored to a salient idea, not merely used as filler.
“You know” has similar traits. It too is intended to clarify things, to assure the listener that the meaning will soon be clear. “You know what I’m talking about” is perfectly acceptable, but “I’m, you know, searching, you know, for another job, you know” just won’t cut it.
When I’ve overdosed on “you know” I want to holler, “No, I don’t know,” but that’s only after fantasizing about Velcro-ing that person’s lips shut. Perhaps “you know” — and at this point, you know, I’m changing it to “ya know,” because that’s the way most people pronounce it — began as a way of flattering the listener: I’m telling you things you already know, because you’re intelligent, ya know.
Maybe it began that way, but today its use is mostly, ya know, as filler.
I mean people also use “ya know” as a way of introducing an extraneous topic. Let’s say one of the conversationalists is discussing string theory and neurons and has lost the other person whose mind is on silly string and croutons. That’s when the other cuts in with “Ya know, I need to go home now. I mean it’s been fun, but good-bye for now, ya know.”
Two other usages rankle. What convinced me I’d been in the classroom too long was a spate of strange uses of two of the English language’s tiniest, yet mighty, words, “go” and “do.”
Whenever I realize I’ve heard the use of one of these words more than 60 times a day, I wonder, as perhaps you do, whether people just started the unusual usage, or whether it’s been around forever and, ya know, I just noticed it. For example, during a week of judging speakers in classes other than my own, it was common to hear, “The coach goes, ŒYou shouldn’t smoke.'” or “Mom went, ŒI have to do some shopping.'”
Here the students use “go” and “went” in place of “say” and “said.”
That grates on the ears. I mean, people don’t GO, they SAY. Cats go meow-meow, dogs go bow-wow, trains go choo-choo, but people SAY “You shouldn’t smoke.”
And what can we say about “do”? A point I’ve made in several columns deals with tight-knit communities with few media outlets. In Las Vegas, I mean, if one person on the airwaves employs a certain locution, the rest of us are bound, ya know, to follow.
The word “do,” linked with another verb, generally has an emphatic meaning. If Natasha says to Kevin, “You don’t love me,” he’s bound to answer, “I DO love you.” But is there any use for “do” other than to counter a negation?
Only in Vegas do we hear talk show hosts say, “We DO have some guests.” and “I DID go to the bank this morning.” Apparently someone had insisted the host did not have guests and did not do any banking.
Or we hear, “I WILL be playing some favorites,” as if someone had said, “No you won’t.” And it becomes reminiscent of schoolyard squabbles: “Did too.” “Did not.”
Language is what people make it, I need to keep reminding myself. And it appears the peculiar uses of “go,” “do,” “ya know” and “I mean” will be with us always.
Just as I was getting ready to toss in many more examples, the boss DID beckon me to finish this.
I WILL write more about this in later columns, but right now I DO have deadline, ya know. I mean, the column DOES and WILL end here.