Slang is the working class of words. American poet Carl Sandburg once said: “Slang is language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its palms, and gets to work.”
But slang is constantly changing. It is hard for older people to keep up with it. I am well acquainted with the slang of good old or traditional Texas. Even though we live in cities, we still use expressions from farms and ranches, such as “all hat and no cattle" (just a hat and no cattle) or “a tough row to hoe" (a difficult row to hoe). It is hard for us to escape Texas’s agricultural past. Language sticks around, and it is hard to teach an old dog new linguistic tricks.
But today’s teenagers in Texas seem to be influenced more by national youth culture than by what we consider traditional agricultural Texas culture. Oh yes, many still say “fixin“ (getting ready to) and “y'all" (you all), but that is often the only nod they give to classic Texas expressions.
Did you know that “on fleek“ (perfect), “squad“ (crew), and “lit“ (great) are on their way out? Neither did I. Those words are gone before I even know they arrived. Heck, I only learned about the “hipster“ (fashionable intellectual) a few months ago, which probably proves that I am not one. It also shows that it is too late to learn new slang. No surprise there. By the time you catch up with a new trend, it has usually already moved on.
Millennials, on the other hand, change slang faster than Taylor Swift changes friends.
One trend I have noticed recently is how many words or expressions that were common 20 years ago have either disappeared entirely or had their meanings reversed.
“Parking“ is a good example. Forty years ago, it meant finding a quiet spot on a country road and enjoying intimate moments with your date.
That meaning is gone. If you mention it to today’s college students, they will say: “I know. The parking problem on campus is terrible.” If you explain what it used to mean, they will say: “Oh, you mean Netflix and chill!” (watching Netflix and relaxing) Or “hooking up“ (getting together).
“Shade“ is something I have always tried to sit in. Now, apparently, it is something you can throw. At someone else, to let them know that they are beneath you.
“Sick“ is the new cool. It used to mean ill, but now it is high praise: “That’s a sick tune you’re playing.” Wicked is also strangely good. “Mary, you’re sick and wicked.” That is a compliment!
“Savage“ used to be a word no one wanted to be associated with. Now it works as praise. “That motorcycle jump was savage, dude.” Or you can use it as a verb: “You savaged that Snickers bar.”
“Dope“ used to mean a fool, an idiot, or someone uneducated—as in, “He’s a dope.” Now it means something or someone super-cool, as in, “That is so dope,” or “Nobody is as dope as me.”
“Howdy“ has largely been replaced among some millennials by “'Sup,” which is short for “What's up?” (How are you?)
“Awesome“ has changed in the sense that it used to be a powerful word, a word that could lift 500 pounds. It was reserved for divine things, for things that inspired awe. You would use it for a crimson sunset over El Capitan in West Texas. But now that lofty word is used promiscuously—as in, “Those tacos are awesome” or “You’ll be here in 10 minutes? Awesome.” Inflation has set in. “Awesome“ has lost its awesomeness. The same is true of “amazing“.
We also have some nonverbal expressions. Wearing a cap backward or sideways used to be considered nerdy. Wearing it crooked used to make you look like a clown. Today it can be “dope.” But only in youth culture. If I did it, I would look like an old clown.
Wearing an untucked shirt used to be sloppy. Now it is stylish. Wearing a shirt tucked in is considered nerdy. Untucked is in and tucked in is out. Unless, of course, you are talking about Western fashion, where the tradition of the tucked-in shirt generally prevails.
One word that seems to have survived the decades unchanged is “cool“ (cool). Cool is so cool that it can define itself. “Cool“ was cool in the 1960s, and it is still cool today. It is not only intergenerational, but also cross-cultural. “Cool“ is cool in the African American community. It is cool in the Hispanic community, and it is cool in Anglo culture as well. It is cool in rap, and it is cool in country. And it is transcontinental too. People around the world who do not speak English seem to know at least two words: “OK“ and “cool.” “Cool“ is uniquely diverse, with widespread acceptance. And that is awesome.
A younger friend, who was definitely trying to be on-fleek, recently heard me sharing these observations. His response: “Don’t be throwin' shade at our slang. You need to wake up, dude.”
That is probably true. I am working on it.
YOLO, y'all.
