Profanity has Prospered

My mother, a former high school English teacher, said cussing indicated a limited vocabulary. I never heard her swear.

Dad, on the other hand, did swear on occasion, although not in mixed company, and there were certain words and phrases he never used or tolerated from me. I remember being knocked on my butt once after using the Lord’s name in vain.

Profanity, however, has prospered since their passing. To a lot of folks, there’s rarely any polite company these days around which it’s improper to swear.

I’m partly to blame. I would argue with Mom, were she still here, that certain profane words and phrases add great emphasis if used sparingly.

I cussed in front of one of my grandsons last week. It wasn’t anything he’d never heard before, but I’m pretty sure he’d never heard it from me.

While I’d argue it was for emphasis, the truth is it’s simply become too familiar a part of my vocabulary.

On the way home from a morning hunt, I confronted a federal wildlife official about his agency's misguided (in my opinion) management policies. I got a bit heated and forgot my grandson was in the back seat of the pickup. I used a verb as an adjective while discussing a subject about which I’m passionate.

A polite, good-humored USFWS employee, he quietly endured this old man’s angry harangue, and said it was good we were having a dialogue.

We agreed on little but shook hands at the end, and I thanked him for his time.

Driving back to the house I thought about saying something to my grandson about the language I used, but never did. It was only one word in a relatively civil discourse.

To apologize would seem disingenuous. He already knows it was wrong. I just hope it wasn’t all he got from listening to the conversation.

I know my mother wouldn’t have cut me any slack. She would tell me my argument lost all traction when I swore.

“It makes you sound poorly educated,” I can hear her say. “Can’t you think of a better word?”

I can now, but at the time what I said seemed appropriate.

It wasn’t. That’s not how I was raised. It’s certainly not how my grandchildren are being raised.

I only hope it was a rare enough utterance that when my grandson got home he had something to share with his siblings.

“Guess what I heard Grandpa say?”

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]