"Man does not
live by words alone, despite the fact that
sometimes he has to eat them."
- Adlai E.
Stevenson
THE
LANGUAGE OF BABY
BOOMERS
An Introductory Note
One of the most interesting and
rich contributions to the English language
comes from the baby
boomer generation. The worlds of politics,
business, medicine, law, technology, military,
music and entertainment, street
usage, toys and fads, social trends, fashion
and
media are just a few of the sources of
the great spate of neologisms, or newly-coined
words.
A PERSON NAMED
"BOOMER"
Part of the most populous generation in
American history, a baby boomer (we'll
call her Boomer for short) entered the
earthly stage in 1950. During the first
decade of her life, she was unaware that
a multitude of brave new words were
making their way into her world and
becoming enshrined in American English
dictionaries -- air show, desegregation,
carbon dating, egg cream, hi-fi, H-bomb,
idiot box, jet set, junk mail, karate,
knee-jerk, Little League, nerd,
overkill, panic button, quantum leap,
queen-size, show-and-tell, snow blower,
tank top, urban sprawl, veggies,
wash-and-wear, world-class, and yellow
pages.
But as she became an adult, then a
soccer mom, and, ultimately, an
empty-nester, she began to realize that
a gazillion neologisms -- around five
thousand new words each year! -- were
altering the way she looked at the world
and occasionally requiring a reality
check. Stressed out from life in the
fast track spent networking with
yuppies, yumpies, and dinks, she
disconnected her cellular phone and paid
some megabucks to go to a fat farm.
Feeling like a couch potato, she stopped
her feeding frenzies and gave the high
five to grazing on nouvelle cuisine.
As newly
minted words added to the
currency of the language of the wicked
awesome 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s,
Boomer felt as if she was having a
bad-hair day every day in a world in
which the parts of speech and meanings
of words transmogrified under her very
eyes and ears. FAX, Fedex, microwave,
scroll, and Xerox had turned into verbs,
and Bill Murray got slimed in the 1984
blockbuster Ghostbusters. Crack meant
more than just a small opening, and ice
more than frozen water, and going postal
became not just a decision to mail a
letter.
A pocket
wasn't just for
pants, and a bar code was no longer just
ethics for lawyers or the etiquette of
behavior in a cafe, and rap wasn't just
'60s talk. Zapping was not something
that futuristic ray guns did but
something that people did with a
microwave or a television remote control
(along with surfing). A set point was no
longer just a tennis score, and spin was
not just what a tennis ball did,
especially in the hands of the spin
doctors.
IRA no
longer stood just for
"Irish Republican Army," CD s were no
longer just certificates, and PC came to
signify both personal computer and
politically correct.
A pound was no longer just a unit of
currency or measurement but, in the
words of James J. Kilpatrick, my
colleague in columny, "the little
thingamajig above the 3 on a standard
typewriter or computer keyboard. It
looks like a blank tic tac toe game that
has had too much to drink."
Known as "elephant's ear" in Sweden,
"small snail" in France and Italy, "cat
tail" in Finland, "monkey tail" in
Holland, "spider monkey" in Germany,
"cinnamon cake" in Norway, "little dog"
in Russia, and "shtrudel" in Israel, the
@ -- or "at-sign" -- has become a
standard symbol in electronic addresses.
Used for centuries in the sense of "each
at the price of," the @ has taken on the
locative sense of "at."
In fact, the hot new technology of the
computer thoroughly befuddled the
meanings of back up, bit, boot, browser,
crash, disk, dot, hacker, hard drive,
hit, mail, memory, menu, mouse, net,
park, prompt, provider, scroll, spam,
surf, virus, Web site (no longer just
where Charlotte lives), and window. As
the wonders of the computer impacted on
her mind, she acquired a new
user-friendly vocabulary: clip art,
desktop publishing, emoticon, floppy
disk, ink-jet, Internet, keypad, kludge,
laptop, morphing, mouse potato (a couch
potato attached to a computer), number
crunching, software, spreadsheet, and
voice recognition.
To add to
these
sound bytes, bit-map, chat room, HTML,
home page, netiquette, netizen, URL,
VCR, World Wide Web, zettabyte -- and,
of course, millennium bug (shortened to
Y2K) -- all debuted in dictionaries in
the 1990s.
No wonder that Boomer began feeling like
a dissed gomer, dumbed-down dweeb,
bummed out newbie, totally loose cannon,
and ditzy airhead.
As the Me Generation (a term invented by
the writer Tom Wolfe) grew up and
grayed, our disoriented Boomer found
that the business of America appeared to
be business, and the business of
business was to devise a lexicon of new
terms to describe new fiscal realities.
The second half of the twentieth century
was a "golden" age of commerce -- golden
handshakes, golden hellos, and golden
parachutes.
The
increasingly
proactive world of business also gave us
ATMs, baby Bells, bank card, debit card,
domestic partner, entry level, Euro
dollar, family leave, glass ceiling,
intrapreneurs, maxed out, pink collar,
PIN, power breakfasts and power lunches,
and power ties, program trading, quality
circles, queen bees, telemarketing, and
white knights.
But Boomer found that life among the
movers and shakers was fraught with the
perils of greenmail, hostile takeovers,
junk bonds, leveraged buyouts, and
poison pills. It was also a decade of
considerable monkey business --
sleazebags and sleazeballs engaging in
insider trading, often leaving paper
trails that led to smoking guns and
white collar prisons.
Boomer was
bombarded with hundreds of high-tech
brave new words for a brave new world of
science and technology. She found
herself playing telephone tag with such
cutting edge dictionary entries as
blusher, bullet train, call forwarding
and call waiting, CAT scan, COBOL, cold
fusion, faux pearls (and faux anything
else), fiber-optic, fuzz-buster, global
warming, greenhouse effect, laser,
makeover, meltdown, microwaveable,
nuclear winter, quark, super collider,
tanning booth (and bed ), voice
activated, voice mail (a new oxymoron),
and voiceprint.
As Boomer grew up, she found that
medical breakthroughs broke into the
headlines almost every day: alternative
medicine, arthroscopy, attention deficit
disorder, bikini cut, genetic
counseling, geriatrician, ibuprofen, in
vitro fertilization, liposuction, liquid
diet, live liver donor transplant, Lyme
disease, mad cow disease, minoxidil,
passive smoking, PMS, product tampering,
Prozac, seasonal affective disorder
(which yields the bacronym SAD),
sunblock, taxol, and toxic shock
syndrome.
For a
while, she joined the
fitness craze and became a triathlete
who built up her abs and glutes with
low-impact aerobics, aquacise,
dancercise, and jazzercise.
At the same time, Boomer was troubled by
the spread of AIDS drugs through the
decade and the population -- ARC, AZT,
HIV complex, homophobia, and safe sex
(had it ever been safe?); crackhead,
crackhouse, freebase, gateway drug, ice,
and narcoterrorism.
Our Boomer became swept up in an age
marked by considerable political and
social change, and this change in turn
left its mark on the American language
-- action clothing, Afrocentric, bag
lady, blended family, carjacking,
charter school, codependent, condo
conversion, Contra, co-parent,
designated driver, designer jeans
(genes, or anything else), distance
learning, disinformation, Ebonics, exit
poll, extended care, gentrification,
gerontocracy, glasnost, global village,
gridlock, happy hour (which usually
lasts longer than an hour), health spa,
high top, homeschooler, Kwanza, mall
rat, managed care, no-growth, quality
time, POSSLQ, rust belt (or bowl),
seatbelt laws, significant other, single
parent, singles bar, stepfamily,
superfund, surrogate mother, touchy
feelie, and trophy wife.
Boomer learned to come to terms with
glitzy, in-your-face new entertainment
terms, such as acid rock, action figure,
boom box, breakdancing, bungee jumping,
cable-ready, camcorder, channel surfing,
clear channel, colorization, closed and
open captioned, docudrama and
documusical, extreme sports, gangsta
rap, ghetto blasters, hackysack, high
top, infotainment, laser and compact
disks, line dancing, MTV, new wave
music, new age anything, road rage, slam
dunk, snowboarding, sound bite,
snowboarding, televangelist, ten-speed,
and veejay.
Lucky Boomer. Throughout her life, a
growing interest by foodies in ethnic
and regional cuisine added a menu of new
words to the American palate, food
court, and vocabulary. The American
obsession with food is reflected in the
neologisms bagel chips and bagel dogs,
biscotti, blush wine, brew decaf,
buffalo wings, callaloo, chimichanga,
corn dog, enoki, fajita, farfalle,
frozen yogurt, green goddess dressing,
ice wine, latte, mesclun, microbrew, oat
bran, primavera, ranch dressing, sea
legs, shiitaki, smoothie, surimi, and
wine coolers -- many of which are
comfort foods, not junk foods. Boomer
wasn't really distraught, and certainly
wasn't ready to quit the day job or go
postal or ballistic.
In fact,
this
whole business of linguistic change was
a no-brainer to her. She knew that, just
as one never steps into the same river
twice, one cannot step into the same
language twice -- that, even as one
enters, the words are swept downstream
into the future, forever making a
different river. Or, to switch the
metaphor, she knew that language is like
a tree that sheds its leaves and grows
new ones so that it may live on. Changes
in our vocabulary occur not from decay
or degeneration. Rather, new words, like
new leaves, are essential to a living,
healthy organism. A language draws its
nutrients from the environment in which
its speakers live.
Throughout
history, as people have met with new
objects, experiences, and ideas, they
have needed new words to describe them.
During the second half of the twentieth
century, the tree of American English
experienced a riot of new growth -- a
sign that our multifoliate language is
deeply rooted in the nourishing soil of
change.
Thanks to R. Lederer
A BRIEF LOOK AT THE
HISTORY OF
ENGLISHfrom Merriam-Websters
Dictionary
The history of English is conventionally, if
perhaps too neatly, divided into three periods
usually called Old English (or Anglo-Saxon),
Middle English, and Modern English. The
earliest period begins with the migration of
certain Germanic tribes from the continent to
Britain in the fifth century A. D., though no
records of their language survive from before
the seventh century, and it continues until the
end of the eleventh century or a bit later. By
that time Latin, Old Norse (the language of the
Viking invaders), and especially the
Anglo-Norman French of the dominant class after
the Norman Conquest in 1066 had begun to have a
substantial impact on the lexicon, and the
well-developed inflectional system that
typifies the grammar of Old English had begun
to break down.
The following brief sample of Old English
prose illustrates several of the significant
ways in which change has so transformed English
that we must look carefully to find points of
resemblance between the language of the tenth
century and our own. It is taken from Aelfric's
"Homily on St. Gregory the Great" and concerns
the famous story of how that pope came to send
missionaries to convert the Anglo-Saxons to
Christianity after seeing Anglo-Saxon boys for
sale as slaves in Rome:
Eft he axode, hu ğære ğeode nama wære şe hi of
comon. Him wæs geandwyrd, şæt hi Angle
genemnode wæron. Şa cwæğ he, "Rihtlice hi sind
Angle gehatene, for ğan ğe hi engla wlite
habbağ, and swilcum gedafenağ şæt hi on
heofonum engla geferan beon."
A few of these words will be recognized as
identical in spelling with their modern
equivalents -- he, of, him, for, and, on -- and
the resemblance of a few others to familiar
words may be guessed -- nama to name, comon to
come, wære to were, wæs to was -- but only
those who have made a special study of Old
English will be able to read the passage with
understanding. The sense of it is as follows:
"Again he [St. Gregory] asked what might be the
name of the people from which they came. It was
answered to him that they were named Angles.
Then he said, 'Rightly are they called Angles
because they have the beauty of angels, and it
is fitting that such as they should be angels'
companions in heaven.' "
Some of the words in the original have survived
in altered form, including axode (asked), hu
(how), rihtlice (rightly), engla (angels),
habbağ (have), swilcum (such), heofonum
(heaven), and beon (be). Others, however, have
vanished from our lexicon, mostly without a
trace, including several that were quite common
words in Old English: eft "again," ğeode
"people, nation," cwæğ "said, spoke," gehatene
"called, named," wlite "appearance, beauty,"
and geferan "companions." Recognition of some
words is naturally hindered by the presence of
two special characters, ş, called "thorn," and
ğ, called "edh," which served in Old English to
represent the sounds now spelled with th.
Other points worth noting include the fact that
the pronoun system did not yet, in the late
tenth century, include the third person plural
forms beginning with th-: hi appears where we
would use they. Several aspects of word order
will also strike the reader as oddly unlike
ours. Subject and verb are inverted after an
adverb -- şa cwæğ he "Then said he" -- a
phenomenon not unknown in Modern English but
now restricted to a few adverbs such as never
and requiring the presence of an auxiliary verb
like do or have. In subordinate clauses the
main verb must be last, and so an object or a
preposition may precede it in a way no longer
natural: şe hi of comon "which they from came,"
for ğan ğe hi engla wlite habbağ "because they
angels' beauty have."
Perhaps the most distinctive difference between
Old and Modern English reflected in Aelfric's
sentences is the elaborate system of
inflections, of which we now have only
remnants. Nouns, adjectives, and even the
definite article are inflected for gender,
case, and number: ğære ğeode "(of) the people"
is feminine, genitive, and singular, Angle
"Angles" is masculine, accusative, and plural,
and swilcum "such" is masculine, dative, and
plural. The system of inflections for verbs was
also more elaborate than ours: for example,
habbağ "have" ends with the -ağ suffix
characteristic of plural present indicative
verbs. In addition, there were two imperative
forms, four subjunctive forms (two for the
present tense and two for the preterit, or
past, tense), and several others which we no
longer have.
Even where Modern English retains a particular
category of inflection, the form has often
changed. Old English present participles ended
in -ende not -ing, and past participles bore a
prefix ge- (as geandwyrd "answered" above).
The period of Middle English extends roughly
from the twelfth century through the fifteenth.
The influence of French (and Latin, often by
way of French) upon the lexicon continued
throughout this period, the loss of some
inflections and the reduction of others (often
to a final unstressed vowel spelled -e)
accelerated, and many changes took place within
the phonological and grammatical systems of the
language.
A typical prose passage, especially one from
the later part of the period, will not have
such a foreign look to us as Aelfric's prose
has; but it will not be mistaken for
contemporary writing either. The following
brief passage is drawn from a work of the late
fourteenth century called Mandeville's Travels.
It is fiction in the guise of travel
literature, and, though it purports to be from
the pen of an English knight, it was originally
written in French and later translated into
Latin and English. In this extract Mandeville
describes the land of Bactria, apparently not
an altogether inviting place, as it is
inhabited by "full yuele [evil] folk and full
cruell."
In şat lond ben trees şat beren wolle, as şogh
it were of scheep; whereof men maken clothes,
and all şing şat may ben made of wolle. In şat
contree ben many ipotaynes, şat dwellen som
tyme in the water, and somtyme on the lond: and
şei ben half man and half hors, as I haue seyd
before; and şei eten men, whan şei may take
hem. And şere ben ryueres and watres şat ben
fulle byttere, şree sithes more şan is the
water of the see. In şat contré ben many
griffounes, more plentee şan in ony other
contree. Sum men seyn şat şei han the body
vpward as an egle, and benethe as a lyoun: and
treuly şei seyn soth şat şei ben of şat schapp.
But o griffoun hath the body more gret, and is
more strong, şanne eight lyouns, of suche
lyouns as ben o this half; and more gret and
strongere şan an hundred egles, suche as we han
amonges vs. For o griffoun şere wil bere
fleynge to his nest a gret hors, 3if he may
fynde him at the poynt, or two oxen 3oked
togidere, as şei gon at the plowgh.
The spelling is often peculiar by modern
standards and even inconsistent within these
few sentences (contré and contree, o [griffoun]
and a [gret hors], şanne and şan, for example).
Moreover, in the original text, there is in
addition to thorn another old character 3,
called "yogh," to make difficulty. It can
represent several sounds but here may be
thought of as equivalent to y. Even the older
spellings (including those where u stands for v
or vice versa) are recognizable, however, and
there are only a few words like ipotaynes
"hippopotamuses" and sithes "times" that have
dropped out of the language altogether.
We may notice a few words and phrases that have
meanings no longer common such as byttere
"salty," o this half "on this side of the
world," and at the poynt "to hand," and the
effect of the centuries-long dominance of
French on the vocabulary is evident in many
familiar words which could not have occurred in
Aelfric's writing even if his subject had
allowed them, words like contree, ryueres,
plentee, egle, and lyoun.
In general word order is now very close to that
of our time, though we notice constructions
like hath the body more gret and three sithes
more şan is the water of the see. We also
notice that present tense verbs still receive a
plural inflection as in beren, dwellen, han,
and ben and that while nominative şei has
replaced Aelfric's hi in the third person
plural, the form for objects is still hem. All
the same, the number of inflections for nouns,
adjectives, and verbs has been greatly reduced,
and in most respects Mandeville is closer to
Modern than to Old English.
The period of Modern English extends from the
sixteenth century to our own day. The early
part of this period saw the completion of a
revolution in the phonology of English that had
begun in late Middle English and that
effectively redistributed the occurrence of the
vowel phonemes to something approximating their
present pattern. (Mandeville's English would
have sounded even less familiar to us than it
looks.)
Other important early developments include the
stabilizing effect on spelling of the printing
press and the beginning of the direct influence
of Latin and, to a lesser extent, Greek on the
lexicon. Later, as English came into contact
with other cultures around the world and
distinctive dialects of English developed in
the many areas which Britain had colonized,
numerous other languages made small but
interesting contributions to our word-stock.
The historical aspect of English really
encompasses more than the three stages of
development just under consideration. English
has what might be called a prehistory as well.
As we have seen, our language did not simply
spring into existence; it was brought from the
Continent by Germanic tribes who had no form of
writing and hence left no records. Philologists
know that they must have spoken a dialect of a
language that can be called West Germanic and
that other dialects of this unknown language
must have included the ancestors of such
languages as German, Dutch, Low German, and
Frisian.
They know this because of certain systematic
similarities which these languages share with
each other but do not share with, say, Danish.
However, they have had somehow to reconstruct
what that language was like in its lexicon,
phonology, grammar, and semantics as best they
can through sophisticated techniques of
comparison developed chiefly during the last
century.
Similarly, because ancient and modern languages
like Old Norse and Gothic or Icelandic and
Norwegian have points in common with Old
English and Old High German or Dutch and
English that they do not share with French or
Russian, it is clear that there was an earlier
unrecorded language that can be called simply
Germanic and that must be reconstructed in the
same way.
Still earlier, Germanic was just a dialect
(the ancestors of Greek, Latin, and Sanskrit
were three other such dialects) of a language
conventionally designated Indo-European, and
thus English is just one relatively young
member of an ancient family of languages whose
descendants cover a fair portion of the globe.