January 10, 2018 Article

The Old Coot rediscovers the Grunt Language

By Merlin Lessler

This article was written more than a decade ago, back when I first encountered the Grunt Language. My son is grown now and speaks the same language that I do, but he didn’t back then. I’ve run into several parents of teenage boys lately, who express puzzlement over a communication gap with their teenage sons. I decided it was time to rerun the article, to help them deal with the issue.  

CIRCA 2004: Today's kids talk a lot on the Internet using Instant Messaging (since superseded by cell phone texting). They've created a new form of the written language which experts claim is a threat to the future of literature. In my day these same experts predicted that comic books would cause the demise of the written word. The problem is most pronounced in high school English classes. Can you imagine grading a literature paper describing the comedy of Shakespeare as “LOL” (laugh out loud) funny or irony portrayed as JK (just kidding). It’s no wonder that dedicated English teachers like Chris Evans at OFA are pulling their hair out.

I'll leave that challenge to Mr. Evans and his capable colleagues; I have a different problem involving teenage communication; mine involves the spoken word. I'm hard at work, learning to cope with teenage males who communicate in the “Grunt Language”. I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I can pass along a few tips to help you exchange information with male teenagers. I thought it would be a snap when my son entered the maelstrom of teenagehood, having been through the process with five daughters. I was wrong. Communication suddenly came to a halt. I thought it was my problem, something going on between my son and me, but when I looked around I discovered it’s a phenomenon that affects most teenage males.

These “boys” never use a word, if a grunt or a shrug will serve their purpose. "Hi kiddo, how was school today?" I ask, and get a microscopic shoulder shrug in reply. I try again, “How did you do on the English test?” He gives me an upward eye roll and then follows it up with a conversation stopper, “I-don-no!” Are you starting to see the pattern? The parent has to ask questions that can only be answered with a grunt or a shrug. If you ask an open-ended question you get a blank stare. You can see the wheels spinning in their heads, but it’s not because they’re puzzling over an answer; they’re trying to decide if they should use a whole sentence. They apparently allocate just 6 sentences a week for use with their parents. Even then, they try to save those sentences for important issues, like asking for money or lobbying to go someplace they know is off limits. 

If you haven't experienced the Grunt Language and wonder what it's like, you can get an idea by handing the sports page to an adult male, give him 30 seconds to get into an article and start asking questions. You'll get responses similar to those of grunting, shrugging male teenagers. The only difference is, the adult grunter has evolved his communication skill to an evenly spaced series of, “Uh-Huh, Yes dears.”

I'm determined to beat the system, to break through the code. The next time my son decides to use one of his 6 sentences, to ask me to take his gang to the mall, I'm going to grab the sports page and give him a dose of his own medicine. "Come on Dad; will you take us?" I'll lower the paper an inch and squint at him over the top of my glasses. I won't say anything; I'll just squint. "Come on Dad; we've got to meet “people” at the mall!" To which I'll scratch my chin and grunt a MB. I'll continue this pattern forcing him to use all 6 of his sentences. When they’re used up and he can’t ask for money, I'll get up and head toward the car and grunt, “Lessgo!"