“Like,” the Verbal Funyun

In our dining room I’m thinking of rigging up one of those wires that hangs above a billiards table.  You know, the kind that holds wood beads for keeping score. But instead of pocket shots, I’ll be counting the word “like” when it crops up in our familial discourse. In lieu of beads, I’ll use Fuyuns—-an irresistible non-food that fills the belly with junk, just as “like” fills the mind with vacuous static.

I’ll probably be the first to get busted. “Like” falls out of my mouth too often, especially if I’m ranting about something to a friend. But I am conscious not to use it as a substitute for “about.” I’ll say “he seems about 50 years old,” rather than “he seems, like, 50 years old.”  It’s kind of a crusade of mine to use the word “said” when recounting conversations with others. Even still, I will hear myself say “she was like, ‘give me that drumstick.'” All caught up in the chicken leg tale, I let my grammatical guard down. Bam, “like” worms into my speech. All the while, my young children listen intently. When they talk, I correct their “likes” but it’s more important that I model good English for them.

Sometimes on Sunday mornings we venture into the local bagel shop favored by UVa undergraduates. While we wait in line holding our kids, my husband and I brace ourselves for tales of campus keg stands and jello shooters. Instead, we’re pelted with “likes” that rain down like thousands of Funyun paratroopers invading the shores of intelligent conversation. “I don’t know, I was just like, you know, like, call me, or like, don’t!”  We set our kids down and cover their ears. I’ve heard it said that the foundation of a child’s lifelong nutritional health is in place by age five. There’s probably a similar benchmark for language. A few Funyuns are ok every now and then. But day to day, we’re trying to build something healthier.