by Jim Muir

I want to preface my thoughts by saying that when it comes to profanity, I’m not a prude, in fact far from it.  And it should also be pointed out that my ears will not wilt and my eyes won’t melt if I hear or read a curse word.

I worked 20 years in the coal industry and spent time daily around men who, as my late mother Geraldine would say, ‘could cuss a blue streak.’  Admittedly, I’ve also uttered my fair share of curse words and like Ralphie’s dad in “A Christmas Story” have even made up a few.

‘Nadafinga’ was light in comparison.

But, lately I see a change in the way people talk that troubles me. While my detractors will say I’m just old, I believe it goes hand-in-hand with the politically correct world we live in where everything is right and nothing is wrong, everybody wins and nobody loses and some people feel compelled, liberated or just plain old stupid enough to believe they can say or write anything, anywhere, anytime.  ‘Freedom of speech’ they will cry if anybody tries to correct them. But, I also have the freedom of speech to point out that they’re a moron.  See what I did there? That issue of freedom of speech works both ways!

As I often do many times writing a column I have a couple different stories that I want to pull together to come up with a single thought.

Let me explain.

A few days ago I was in a convenience store and the line was backed up with a woman and two small children in front of me and two 20-something knuckleheads behind me.  The two men were in a conversation and the F-bombs were flying.  Every time the queen-mother of dirty words rolled out I cringed about the woman and I cringed a little more about the children hearing this.  Given the looks of these two, more tattoos than teeth, I knew if I called them down I would have had to deal with them in the parking lot so I bit my tongue until it bled and went on about my business, simply shaking my head a their utter stupidity. Like many of you have probably done, the second I walked out of the store I regretted I didn’t say something.

The second instance happened last weekend when my wife Lisa and I went to a little bar and grill where we enjoy eating.  We were chatting with one of the owners when she told a story about a guest that night who was eating in an outdoor area.  She said a family at a nearby table was within earshot of him and she told us that on three different occasions the man dropped the F-bomb multiple times.  She said she called him down twice and then finally had to go to his table and tell him if he said another curse word he would be asked to leave.  Again, I shake my head at the stupidity.

The final example, and the most glaring and troubling one to me, was a post I read on Facebook a few days ago.  A young teenage girl that I know (a friend of mine on Facebook) made a post, obviously trying to make a point, and there for all the World Wide Web to see was the F-bomb.  Unlike the iron-heads dropping the F-word in mixed company inside businesses the third example just made me sad.

My first reaction when I read the post was to go on a rant that I often see on Facebook.  I’m sure you know what I’m referring to, where people post that they’re going to go on a ‘delete-frenzy’ and remove all those who post inappropriate comments.  After thinking about that for about three seconds I realized that would be a self-righteous, holier-than-thou move on my part.  And given my life-list of mistakes and personal failings I clearly and definitely have no reason to put myself on a judgmental pedestal.  So, instead of ascending to my Ivory Tower and ridding myself of these social network potty-mouths, I decided instead to offer them some advice.

First, I want to note that on social media I see more young people than older folks posting inappropriate things.  But, regardless of age I want to first point out that going on a profanity-laced tirade is neither cool, impressive or a way to show your intelligence.

But, in all fairness to youth and the trials of growing up, let me offer a challenge.  You see, the English language is a wonderful, marvelous, fun and challenging thing to learn and expand. And there is no greater satisfaction that being able to get your point across — and of course that means going after somebody’s jugular if necessary — than displaying a vocabulary that does not include a single expletive.  On the other hand, trying to make a point with a string of curse words is juvenile, childish, weak and, well, just downright boring. So, my advice for young folks on social media is expand your vocabulary, learn a new word and what it means every day and install a speed-bump between your brain and your keyboard.

The two instances where individuals were dropping the F-bomb in public places reminded me of a incident I witnessed many years ago while working in the mines.  There was a group of guys underground at the ‘dinner-hole’ and one miner was on a rant telling a story.  I am not exaggerating when I say that every other word was an F-word or an MF-word with an assortment of other salty curse words sprinkled in for good measure I suppose.

When he finally finished an old miner who had sit quietly and listened asked the cusser a simple question – ‘do you know the definition of profanity?’  With a dull look on his face the man who had filled the air with curse words said ‘no.’  The old miner told him, ‘profanity is ignorance made audible.’  And again with a dull look, the cusser said ‘I don’t get it.

Showing the power of words, the old miner simply said, ‘of course you don’t.’  Obviously, since I still remember that definition 35 years later, those five simple word left a lasting impression on me.  Ahh, the power of words!

While I hold on to the belief that there is hope for young people to learn that social media is not the best place to air their dirty laundry in a curse-filled tantrum, there will always be those, for shock value or pure stupidity, who will continue to fill the air (regardless of where they are or who they are around) with foul language.

To that group, I simply say again that ‘profanity is ignorance made audible.’