The Joy of Cursing

10-9-13. This idea came this morning driving to my favorite diner, God knows why; I don't. Here goes:

At some point, either consciously or unconsciously we've cursed in the past or still curse. I still curse, mainly in the privacy of my car when someone REALLY cuts me off or jumps out ahead. My earlier post about my motorcycle alluded to this flaw of mine.

I've had it since Catholic grammar school growing up in Trenton NJ in the mid and early '60s. The emotional response and words have not left me.  Let me demonstrate how I went from mild, course and common, to just plain uncaring and ignorant.

Joey, "Sister Jane (Doe) gave me an effing F for English,"  
Rodney, "No effing way! That mothereffer."

This was meant to solace the effect of receiving the bad grade.  If it wasn't enuff to molify the poor student, Sister Jane got blasted behind her back for the next week, and it was also heard from other mouths.

Heaven forbid if a fellow 8th grader was really angry, like I was one day in the school yard when Tom called me a "Pansy," Even though he was a foot taller and 200 pounds, my effing mouth and fists landed on him at the same time. After 10 minutes we pulled away, put our arms on our knees catching our breaths, and walked away from each other. A draw. But him and his mouth never came near me again; nor did anyone else, that way. 

So I had had a Phyrric victory over Tom, because next to Dave Shuster, Tom was still the worst bully. Dave was everyone's friend as long as you gave him respect, and he didn't take lunch money or punch you without reason. And he had the strongest punch in school. However he often instigated games of chicken to see who could hit who's chest hardest, in contests where the receiver of the blow was pinned by two fellow male students. Dave alwaysstarted off. "Ummph," I would utter quietly. I didn't want to seem like a pus.., a chicken.

So mostly we used effing if we were angry or surprised. Then subtlely it changed. Soon every other word was effing this or effing that, sprinkled liberally into every conversation, even with our hot eight-grade female classmates, like a handful of girls in plaid skirts and white blouses that we played Spin the Bottle or Doctor and Nurse with in their living rooms after school. It was about that time, age 14, that I started smoking Marlboro's to look as tough as Dave and others like the Gerambach twins who were also tough. No shortage of tough guys in center-city Trenton back then.

This went on thru my freshman year at Fisher Jr. High as well. Even all the Ewing Township "cool" kids talked this way. But then I was sent to California to get straightened out by my Marine Sergeant Dad, and as far as the cussin' went, it mostly cut mine down, because kids my age weren't as gross or as hard on each other, or others, in Southern California. Even bad stuff was "bitchin' man." Therefore, even now, bitch is not a curse word to me, even tho I only use it to say "What a bitch!" not bitchin' And now, never in mixed company but mostly under my breath.

That's like another curse word I learned from my dad. "Hey shithead, come back here and scrub this commode the right way!" After a number of times, it just meant well, nothin'. Maybe a term of endearment? Kinda like the F word, and has been. Now it certainly doesn't connote intercourse in any sense. And shithead just meant that your head was full of shit, figuratively speaking; not far from the truth at times. Especially 'cause I was always so forgetful of my responsibilities. So shit is not a curse word in my vocab. I try hard not to curse in any company, guys or women, and never in front of kids no matter what. The other night I said "Shit, you've got to be kidding,"  when someone was droning on and on and repeating themselves, and Janet jumped all over me even tho she was the only one to hear it. So I try hard not to jump in and comment when someone else is speaking, except when I'm really irked. Usually that's when I just can't believe someone could say such tripe.

But truly, there's one phrase I say aloud, that I learned from my Catholic schoolmates. It's not just a bad effing word, but it's mixed with a name in such a way that it's also sacrilegious. I always ask forgiveness after saying that aloud. This phrase only comes out when I'm super pissed, usually at myself, and it just pops out of my dirty mouth. But I retain a little control; I let it pop only when I'm alone.

But then I met my sweetheart Janet when I was a junior at Ewing High, and she and her friends, for the most part, didn't use such foul language. So I conformed. That got even better when I met the Baha'is and joined the Faith in 1970. 

So when do you find yourself cursing? Or do you have it under control -- like I do. Do you have any mild ones you can share?

by Rodney Richards
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