The Noise of Boys

Where's all that racket coming from? And what does it all mean?

Photo by Ashton Bingham on Unsplash

Finally, a day arrived when Jeff and I didn't have any serious chores, classes, or other events to attend. We were ready to leave the comforts of Rancho Pequeño and visit our favorite places in the region. Arriving in Markleeville, we felt the need for a cup of coffee and found a local eatery that was bustling with business. Well, maybe it only seemed to be bustling. At one long table sat a large family with several children. That's where the bustle originated.

Our table stood within a meter of a boy who gave a rather sophisticated review of his hamburger. He didn't even have to bite into it to taste its lusciousness. He listed each condiment in tantalizing detail, the juicy tomato slice, the crisp lettuce leaf, the pickles and red onions stacked evenly across the burger to enhance every bite. Last in this sumptuous report came the fire broiled meat cooked to perfection.

Where did this kid learn to talk like that? We only came in for a cup of coffee, but this boy's description made me salivate. There was no chance of my changing my order, though, because we had already stuffed ourselves at home.

As we returned attention to our coffees, two of the boys expressed their thoughts in more unintelligible language. Buzzes and burps and harrooms echoed against the Victorian walls, but the parents seemed inured to it. I would usually be aggravated by kids' high-pitched racket, but this symphonic conversation brought up a funny memory.

A lifetime long ago, I remembered riding in the front seat between my mother and older sister while her three boys crowded into the backseat. We in front were silent, but the cacophony of sounds welling up from behind us became deafening. My mother finally broke into laughter.

"Why is it that boys make so many funny noises?"

We listened more carefully as the squeaks, quacks, rattles, and splurts continued unabated. None of them, by the way, spoke a familiar word.

In my childhood development classes, we were told that girls develop language skills faster than boys. Talking is the basis of feminine life after all. I even knew a woman who claimed that talking was her hobby even though she rarely had anything profound to say. But I digress.

I listened to my nephews and thought of them now at middle-age. The oldest remains the quietest, rarely saying much beyond a grunt. Getting information out of him would have required torture. After his years in the army, whatever he did say came out with a southern drawl. The middle boy became the party animal, lively and sociable, and a successful real estate broker. Speech became his stock in trade. The youngest, unfortunately now deceased, was the college boy, the brain trust of the family, a very serious young man who would regard me as an idiot after one sentence escaped my mouth. Guess which nephew is my favorite?

All of these personalities sprung from that cacophony in the backseat. And now I wonder if these noises that spew from boys' mouths are the precursor to their adult careers. Unlike girls, who seem to speak in lucid sentences from birth, boys take another route, exploring the capacities of their mouths. Tongues, teeth, cheeks, and breath work together to produce a range of sounds that eventually become language. Their language.

My three-year-old grandson is learning to communicate with speech instead of screams, to the delight and relief of his mother. Every now and then, however, he blurts out a sentence or two of some arcane lingo he spoke as a baby. I know it's a language rather than a bunch of noise because I recognize some words uttered throughout his narratives.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

While girls link arms with their friends and yak-yak-yak while circling the playground, boys provide the sound effects for their Tonka toys. They imitate voices and wrap their mouths around any noise made by animal, machine, and sometimes things that don't even exist. Now that my grandson is obsessed with Monster Trucks, any object or set of magnetic blocks becomes one, complete with guttural growls as he guides it across the floor.

Sound effects, then, must be a special male capacity. Mel Blanc, the genius Man of a Thousand Voices who invented cartoon personalities with a lisp or a wise crack, could make any sound for any occasion. To challenge this, someone asked him to voice of a rubber band. If he could do this, it would be used for the animated visual pun that marched across one of Bugs Bunny's nightmares. Blanc proceeded to splurt and hum a ridiculous chorus that lives in people's memories today.

From such noises come rhapsodies and oratory and that “long line that my father gave my mother" that Gypsy Rose Lee claimed was her lineage. While boys develop discernible language more slowly than girls, perhaps they create more with it. Jazz singers have formed the musical interface between instrument and voice with Scat, illustrating the oral capacities. This musical tradition, of course, crosses genders quite easily, as Ella Fitzgerald has been dubbed the Queen of Scat.

So, don't worry, be happy, parents and teachers. Our boys will grow into intelligible and intelligent men in their own time, spanning the range of lyrical sounds and language from Bobby McFerrin to Barack Obama.

Thinkin' About Your Body by Bobby McFerrin:

Bonus: Check out this video of Sammy Davis Jr. and his "theatrical" drummer, Michael Silva.

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