I clicked on what should have been an amusing online video of things kids say the other day and was utterly shocked.
While several of the clips were just young’uns being almost annoyingly cute, a couple of the little kids, three, four and five years old, were using language that they should never have heard, much less known how to use.
I realize I am a bit of a mossback when it comes to some things, but I can’t quite understand how a toddler can let loose a three of the most vulgar curses I know of with practiced ease when my mother used to sternly address my father for dropping a simple, minor four-letter-word that likely doesn’t even count nowadays.
I had a mouth like a drunken sailor at one point; it took a lot of years of prayer and persistence to change that. There were a couple words that simply were not used, period; even among we boys who were teaching each other the finer points of cussin’, we knew better than to say a few words, not amongst ourselves and certainly not in front of adults.
All that has apparently gone by the wayside, and I think we’re the worse for it.
I am not proud of the fact that I occasionally say and all too often think certain words; such exclamations usually involved extreme frustration, disgust or traumatic pain. I long ago began assembling a veritable dictionary of euphemisms to be used in place of traditional cuss words. If you spend some time thinking about it, you can truly insult someone using just the names of vegetables and animals if you absolutely must insult them somehow. Failing that, there’s always Yosemite Sam of Bugs Bunny cartoon fame, who mastered the muttered imprecation before many of us were born.
I was raised differently, and while I have not spent my life living in a Pollananiac shelter, I still have little need and no patience for vulgarity for vulgarity’s sake, as has become commonplace.
When a four-year-old casually says she’s tired of a G-D M-F SOB’s S—, somebody has failed somewhere. If a ten-year-old boy can tell his parents to F- off, and not wake up hours later with a handprint on his jaw – something is wrong. When a seven-year-old girl can say she is “tired of a teacher’s s—” and there are no ramifications, we have a major problem.
I do not understand why this has not just become common, but acceptable; I hear F-bombs dropped during casual conversations on a regular basis. When I do, my opinion of the person drops as well. I have rarely been so embarrassed as when folks heard a former coworker drop three really profane words as he passed by between the front door and the entrance to his office. Never mind when a former coworker may have set a record for using the F word 21 times at such volume that the customer sitting with me asked if we needed to call the police.
One of the best lines I have ever heard came from one of the most profanity-laced movies ever made, Falling Down. Robert Duvall is dealing with his supervisor, who says he doesn’t trust Duvall’s character because he’s never heard him curse.
“Real men curse,” Captain Yardley tells Duvall’s Sgt. Prendergrast. To his character’s credit, when Prendergrast utter a single curse much later in the film, the timing and application are perfect.
I knew a fellow years ago who absolutely went off on me when I gently suggested he tone his language down in mixed company. He said the same thing, with the addition of a rather repetitive plentitude of modifiers and descriptive terms: real men curse.
With all due respect, I disagree.
One of the most famous Texas Rangers, who rode alongside Frank Hamer and other legends, was never heard to drop a single curse word, even in a time and place where cussing was considered an artform and de riegeur. When asked by a writer what he thought of some of the worst society had to offer, the Ranger reportedly said they were “just trash.”
My father toned his language down a good bit as I grew older; even when he let fly a particular vulgar expression, under the worst of circumstances, he always, always, always apologized that I had heard him say those words, and instructed me not to do so. Even if Miss Lois wasn’t around, Papa did his best to ensure that I knew a cuss word was only to be used rarely, and for extreme emphasis, not as a matter of daily conversation. I try very hard to do the same.
I do not buy the excuse that someone was in the military. I have a bunch of veteran friends, and two with whom I spend a lot of time curse less than I do; indeed, one of them has never said a single PG rated word in my presence. I have other friends who have never put on a uniform but can’t complete a sentence without dropping at least one word I would never have dared utter in the presence of anyone for whom I had respect.
I have a dear friend who said she gave up cussing for Lent; I had to reply, in all loving honesty, that I thought folks who practiced Lenten sacrifice usually gave up things like chocolate, special foods, alcohol or even music. I never saw cussin’ as vital for making life more enjoyable. To her credit, I rarely hear her drop more than a mildly colorful inflective, but that’s neither here nor there.
You rarely saw cursing in the books of Louis L’Amour or in many of the greater writers, yet they told beautiful stories that we want to read again and again. If those folks could create literature that lasts for decades, if not centuries, then I think someone should be able to complete the more mundane tasks of the day without adding an F-bomb or three.
I must emphasize: I do occasionally drop bad words. I’m embarrassed that it happens. I strive very hard never to do so casually in the presence of others. I try to remember to apologize, and I always ask God’s forgiveness. That’s just my standard. I do not expect folks to do as I do, unless they choose to. We have freedom of speech, and that does not protect us from hearing things that we do not like. Nor does it protect anyone from the results of practicing their right to free speech.
Coarse language is a sign of a coarsening of society; if folks can find no other way to describe things than with cusswords, then education, upbringing or something is lacking. Compounding that lack will only lead to a worsening of conditions for everyone. If we can’t communicate, we can’t improve and expand. There are plenty of ways and words to express everything without resorting to the baser vocabulary. All that does is normalize and encourage it, thus further reducing how others see us – unless they, too are too lazy or debased to speak in a polite manner.
But when little kids, who emulate their parents, are dropping words like a Quentin Tarantino film – I for one think someone needs their mouths washed out with soap, and it ain’t necessarily the little ones.
In my opinion, those folks are, as that Texas Ranger might say, just trash.
