Uhmm


Now that my summer leaves are falling, I suppose it’s not surprising that I have renewed my interest in the words that have remained faithful to my denuding branches -not just words, though: conversational words; words that used to drip like water from the leaky faucet of my mouth -on command, or not…

Sometimes though, I resort to fillers, interjections to occupy the vacant spaces between the thoughts I am trying to convey in words I cannot find. Well, it’s not quite as bad as that -the words I need are often simply camouflaged like hide-and-seek children in a game: they all appear eventually; they all get hungry to be noticed. In a conversation which depends on context and contiguity in order to maintain listener attention though, the game is often over before they emerge, embarrassed, from wherever they were hiding.

And yet, perhaps I need not be alarmed at the increasing profusion of my filler-words; they may not be as lame as I imagine. If you’re the sort who decides to concentrate on these things, try to notice the seeming shower of confetti-words strewn throughout most conversations- you may be in for a surprise. Even though I wrote an essay [i] a couple of years ago that touched on the topic,  I don’t think I ever thought it would so enmesh my speech as I aged.

Ever alert for mentions of it in the profusion of apps on my phone however, I stumbled on one that poured a bit of oil on my troubled seas as it were.[ii] Apparently many others -okay, mainly  linguists- once regarded such utterances as ‘largely irrelevant noise, the flotsam and jetsam that accumulate on the margins of language when speakers aren’t as articulate as they’d like to be.’ I mean, that seemed a bit too close, a bit too personal, to ignore…

Fortunately, I kept reading and hoping for redemption; hoping for some hint of absolution for my age; praying for a recognition that filler words can actually serve as essential tools for mutual understanding; hoping they may even make complex language a possibility. And indeed they are ubiquitous in everyday speech -for most of us, they apparently happen every 12 seconds or so, although I haven’t actually timed mine.

These little filler sounds (they’re often not even words) are signals: ‘An um or uh from the speaker, for example, signals that they’re about to pause, but they aren’t finished speaking. A quick huh? or what? from the listener, on the other hand, can signal a failure of communication that the speaker needs to repair.’ It’s a universal need: all languages use short, neutral syllables like ‘huh’ as repair signals, perhaps because they’re quick and easy to produce.

I was quickly drawn into the depths of the article. For example, I learned that ‘Other interjections serve as what some linguists call “continuers,” such as mm-hmm—signals from the listener that they’re paying attention and the speaker should keep going. Once again, the form of the word is well suited to its function: Because mm-hmm is made with a closed mouth, it’s clear that the signaler does not intend to speak.’

Or, how about the fact that some of the same interjections can serve different functions depending on the context: ‘mm-hmm might indicate that the speaker should continue explaining… yeah or OK would imply that the listener is done with that step and it’s time to move on to the next.’

In other words, listener feedback is an integral part of conversations; interjections are not only useful guides, they’re essential components of communication. ‘Every time two people converse, they need to establish an understanding of where each is coming from: what each participant knows to begin with, what they think the other person knows and how much detail they want to hear. Much of this work—what linguists call “grounding”—is carried out by interjections.’

I think I ground a lot nowadays. Too much, according to an equally aged friend I sometimes meet for walks through the woods before we go out for coffee. She usually objects to trails that have roots on them, or puddles; even trails that go uphill. In fact, she is sometimes rude about it.

The other day, I decided to confront her when she complained. “Ah, you told me you wanted to try a new…” I thought about it for a moment , then corrected myself. “Well, a different trail, Lainey.”

She stared at me for a  moment with a sad and perhaps disappointed look when she shook her head. “Are you aware of doing that, G?” she said -but gently. Kindly.

“Mmm?” I answered, unsure of whether she was commenting on my occasional tripping, or the fact that I also swore each time it happened.

She rolled her eyes and stopped in the middle of the path, so I couldn’t help bumping into her.

“Whoops…” I stepped back quickly. “Uhmm… Sorry,” I said, embarrassed at my clumsiness.

“Hahh! There you go again!”

“Oh… Apologizing you mean?”

She shook her head with an impish grin on her face. “I’ve been counting, you know…”

Curious, I stared at her. “Uhmm, counting what?”

“Filler words. Your count is, mmmh,” she glanced at her smartphone, “Ah, six in the last few sentences…”

She’d obviously read the same article, so I was ready for her. “And you’re already up to three! We have too many common interests, don’t you think? We’re even reading the same apps on our phones, eh?”

She smiled. “Seven…”

“Come on, you can’t count ‘eh’, eh?”

A huge grin appeared on her face and her eyes twinkled. “I just eliminated the weirdness by flagging the statement as news to you, not me.”

I shook my head in admiration. “You actually memorized some of that article on your phone app so you could use it on me today, didn’t you?”

She giggled and then blushed, I think. “Well, I thought I’d join you…. eh?”

“Huh…” I said in a whisper just before joining her in her laughter. Lainey is such a good friend! I’m not sure I grounded her, though…


[i] https://musingsonretirementblog.com/2023/06/25/hmm-thats-interesting/

[ii] https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/huh-interjections-are-critically-important-to-communication-180986170

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