OF A GOLDEN AGE

Actually, I don’t know that I’m a notorious guttermouth, except while driving. Because oh boy, that is not a soundtrack fit for shy ears. But I can cuss a blue streak, as they say, and do a lot of swearing in general.

There’s no real ideology behind this, and I don’t believe — as many do — that swearing indicates a poor vocabulary or is not expressive. If you’re one of those believers, I suspect you’ve never met a truly artful cusser, and in a way that is both good and bad for you.

The progression worked a lot like my transition to vegetarianism. At first, I stopped with the F-word, the red meat of swearing. Then I realized I no longer liked the sound of the others (pork, poultry) and while I’d miss my very favorite swear, a seven-letter euphemism beginning with A, I’d quit it the same way I quit fish. Reluctantly.

What this means is a whole host of swear-alikes that remind me of a funny Mormon kid with whom I went to college. His love of the word “frick” was deep and he used it often. Playing Mario Kart, I can’t just yell the word I want, and instead start subconsciously spelling it aloud. What? That doesn’t even make sense, there aren’t impressionable youths nearby. In traffic, I yell complete nonsense or make noises that are silly sounding. “Nrargh!” Other substitutes sound British or, um, rural: “Drat! Dang!”

And my favorite — yelling the first letter of the word. “F! F! F! F!“

one response