swears

Between the ages of seven and nine, I used to play the name game in a very special way: I would make up names that ended in -oobs, -utt, -itch, and -uck so that I could say CERTAIN WORDS with impunity. If anybody overheard me, I planned to say, "I was just playing the name game, I promise!!!" Which obviously never happened.


(Joey reminded me of it two days ago when he asked his mother if he could swear at the kids who are bullying him at school. Even the way he seemed to relish saying the word "swear" reminded me of how enamored with them I used to be.)


In the fourth grade, I was kind of stuck up (even though I had no reason to be--I was not popular, pretty or rich), a goody two-shoes, and a big fat liar. In the middle of the school year, I moved to a rougher neighborhood in which none of these things were tolerated. I learned very quickly to swear, to appear tough by doing such things as spitting and making dirty jokes, and above all to be very blunt and disrespectful to pretty much anybody if I thought that person had "asked for it." People always seemed to be "asking for it" at that time in my life. CHILD OF DIVORCE ALERT.

By the beginning of fifth grade, I had become popular because I was very good at long division, cursive, telling ghost stories, and, more importantly, I could swear like a sailor and tell very dirty jokes like a truck driver. My specialties were innuendo and punning, especially in order to make people feel sheepish. I was a master of various fifth-grade versions of the "that's what she said" technique.

Anyway, in the middle of that school year, I moved back to the wealthier neighborhood, and returned to the school in which I had previously been a goody two-shoes. Instead of rejoining my old crowd of meandering girls, who were very boring to me at that point, I joined the boys on the wallball court because I had become very good at that game and wanted to stake my claim in this school after having been the best at my old school.

At lunchtime during my second day back, Lisa W. (who, incidentally, later became a swearing, drug-using, pierced-nipples badass in high school) approached me, along with the same venue of girls I used to call my friends, with eyebrows raised and arms crossed. She announced that so-and-so was mad at me for not saying hello. I remember that, at the time, I wasn't even sure I knew who she was talking about, so this seemed weird and kind of funny to me.

"Well, tell her to fuck off," I said, shrugging.

Lisa was absolutely APPALLED, but also impressed, I imagined. Her chin dropped almost down to her chest it seemed, and her arms fell to her sides. The circle around me was silent, and I was silent, waiting for them to either say something or leave me alone. Finally Lisa sputtered, "Mr. Shattuck (the principal) would not be happy to hear that," weakly threatening me. This made me laugh out loud.

"Then you can tell him to fuck off, too," I said, and after taking a moment to stare them all down making sure they knew I seriously did not give a shit, I trotted away to play wallball.



That was probably the only time I was ever super cool and completely self-confident (except for this one time when I was casually chewing a straw while sitting on the bar divider at the grocery check-out, and I felt so cool that my Mom even noticed and asked, "Are you cool? At school are you a cool kid?" and then I mumbled "...no" and felt dumb again).



IN CONCLUSION: Swearing is something one can always relish as long as it hasn't been overused. Swears should never be overlooked when bolstering one's toughness or coolness, but this only true for grades 4-8. Once ninth grade is reached, swearing, specifically swearing to appear tough or cool, has the reverse effect, and should only be shouted at one's parents in order to preserve one's ability to relish the swears. I think at some point it probably turns around again because, at least from my experience, old people who swear a lot are the epitome of cool, as long as the swear isn't paired with some sort of racial epithet. In which case, it is sad and pathetic, and you want him to just be quiet and stop swearing so goddamned much, GRANDPA.