Writer attempts to crack the language code of Valleyspeak

Good morning class, and welcome to Valleyspeak 101, a language course designed to help you, our most senior students, as you attempt to crack the communication barrier that has come to separate the generations in your families.

Specifically, we’re talking about teenage girls, whose language inspiration comes from the San Fernando Valley of Southern California. By the time our course is finished, you’ll be able to, well, like, you know, be stoked to the max!

That, class, is an example of Valleyspeak. I’m sure you have heard others.

One of your classmates mentioned how she had asked her 13-year-old granddaughter why she never read any books. The young lady responded: “I’m like so totally not into that.”

Then and there, a stunned and bemused Granny knew she needed help. And I think she found it here at our language school, where we endeavor to unlock the secrets of Valleyspeak and thus provide a link of understanding to our young ones who, despite every outward display of normalcy, seem to have forgotten how to speak a language that is comprehensible to anyone but themselves and their peers.

First, a little necessary background.

While Valleyspeak took root and bore fruit among the teenage community of a Los Angeles suburb, its vocabulary borrows heavily from the California surfer crowd. It became hugely popular when Frank Zappa recorded a tune called Valley Girl, which was partly written by his 14-year-old daughter, named Moon Unit, who sang a lyric which is pure Valleyspeak:

He was like freaking me out...

He called me a beastie...

That’s cuz like he was totally blitzed

He goes like bag your face!

Im sure!

(Didn’t there used to be an apostrophe in “Im”?)

For a time, Valleyspeak sounded a bit inventive. There were several ways to describe something as “good.” You could call it awesome, classic, excellent, cool, hot or bad. Anything considered “good” could be made even better by calling it “totally.”

Example: “That dress is like so totally cool.”

Something bad could be bogus, rad, stupid, crap or (yup) good!

One grandmother told us she got so tired of hearing her little darling call things “awesome” that she suggested she check the dictionary for a proper word. The girl rolled her eyes and said, “The dictionary sucks, Gram. It’s like so last year.”

If you want to speak Valley like a native, pepper your discourse with “like” and “whatever.” Don’t worry about where in the sentence you put them, since the trick in Valleyspeak is not word placement, but its sledge-like impact on the brain. To wit, “Oh wow, I’m like ready to veg.” (Translated: “I’m tired. Time to relax.”)

And this important note: At the end of your sentence raise the pitch of your voice as though you’re asking a question. Linguists call that vocal trick a “high rising terminal.” And push the words out through your nose. The nasal effect, along with the questioning sound after a string of punctuating “likes” will guarantee your membership in the sisterhood of Valleyspeak, if that’s what you really want.

Thirty years ago, Valleyspeak could be heard solely in California, usually amidst a gaggle of teens gathered at a shopping mall. Since then, it has been on the minds and tongues of countless millions, many of whom you’d expect would know better.

You can hear traces of it among reporters questioning Republican presidential candidates during the current round of debates. News anchors are not immune to it, nor are bright young musicians on that popular public radio show “From the Top.”

A young lady on that program had just concluded an exquisite performance of a Chopin nocturne and was chatting about her background with the host, Christopher O’Riley. I lost count of the “likes” after a minute or so. Her tone was suitably nasal, and all her sentences ended on a high rising terminal. In a word, her Valleyspeak was accent-free and flawless. All this after she played her Chopin with such loving tenderness that it would have brought tears of joy to the great composer himself.

Of course everyone forgave her. Her mastery of one language, that of music, was complete, and that for any person – even a Valley Girl – is accomplishment enough.

I hope this introduction to Valleyspeak 101 has been useful to you. If not, like, my bad, or whatever. Class dismissed.

Dick Rossé is a 36-year veteran of Mutual and NBC News and is currently a member of the Delaware Speakers’ Bureau. He can be reached at drosse@aol.com.