The F-Bomb

One of the benefits of having lived into middle-age is that I have been around long enough to be able to observe relatively long-term changes in our society based on first-hand experience.  I remember quite a bit from my very early childhood, so I have fifty-plus years of life on which to base those observations.

A change in societal norms that I never would have expected in my childhood, or even my early adulthood, is today's casual use of what I used to consider the granddaddy of all swear words, a mostly unspeakable term that was generally used only by the coarsest of people, or rarely, in extreme cases, by more civilized people:  the F-bomb.

I know that my negative attitude about this word was probably stronger than other people's.  When we were children, my mother was determined that my siblings and I would avoid the use of strong language, despite conflicting influences from our father, who occasionally peppered his speech with what we considered  Soldier Talk.  Our mother strictly prohibited such talk among us children.   In fact,  along with Dad's Soldier-Talk words, Mom included among the words we were not allowed to utter  the N-word (which was acceptable by some people in those days),"shut-up," "stupid," and "idiot."   I internalized her admonitions about "bad words" to such an extent that I remember once being shocked at the description of a lizard I read in a book I had selected from my second-grade teacher's shelf of books for us to read:  stupid.  For me, that word made it a "nasty book."  I shut the book immediately and returned it to the bookshelf where I had found it, wondering if the teacher knew about the scandalous language it contained.

I am not criticizing my mother's efforts to teach us about appropriate language.  Such motherly efforts were the norm in the 50s and 60s.   She wanted our language to be acceptable in any situation, and she wanted us to speak kindly to everyone, never hurtfully. If my childish perspective did not yet allow me to perceive the difference in degree between "stupid lizard" and "f*** you," that wasn't her fault.

Despite my  not quite grasping some of the subtleties of bad words in those days, I knew that the F-bomb was in a league by itself. Kids I knew would occasionally say "damn" or make a reference to to bodily excrement, but the F-word was rarely heard. Sometimes a rebel child might write it surreptitiously on the sidewalk with a chalk-rock. A more daring kid might slip it into a rendition of the Name Game song, especially if he knew someone named Chuck. But even when Dad was using his Soldier Talk, I never heard him say that word.

The BBMFIC

In fact, I have vivid memory from when I was about 10 years old of learning that some of Dad's soldiers routinely referred to him as "the BBMFIC." Upon hearing this term applied to my dad, I asked him what it stood for.  (I was always an inquisitive child.)   I remember my mom giving him a look that I couldn't read, but evidently he could, because he told me it stood for "Big Bad Mean Fouse In Charge." It was several years before I realized what those letters really stood for, and that "Mean Fouse" was not even close.

Anyway, as I grew into adulthood, I emulated my father's Soldier-Talk type of language in some situations, and was less constrained by my mother's list of forbidden words.  But for me, the F-bomb was still taboo, still shocking, and certainly not for use in mixed company.  I still considered anyone who used it to be an ill-mannered cretin, and probably not someone I wanted to associate with.  When my own children were young, I tried to keep them  hearing that kind of language by monitoring the movies and shows they saw, the songs they heard, and the people they were exposed to.

What did you say?

These days, such concerns about the use of the F-word would probably make many people wonder if I had been born not just in the last millennium, but rather in an earlier geological age.  It is heard in movies, in song lyrics, on Facebook, in the workplace, on the street, indeed in almost any setting you can think of.  It is used by young and old, by male and female, and by people of all education levels and economic levels and ethnic groups.

It is no longer shocking, not even to me.  These days being shocked by that word would be like being shocked to hear that the wind is blowing in Oklahoma.  It happens everyday.  In fact, instead of being the scorched-earth F-bomb that defied decency and social norms, today that word is more like the F-Cherry Bomb.  People might notice, it makes a bit of a point, but certainly overuse has taken some of the bang out of the F-word.  And many people today don't mind using it whenever it pops into their head, no matter what situation they are in.

Although it is no longer shocking to me, I am still a little chagrined by it, and a little embarrassed for whoever said it.  Or wrote it.  It is still coarse, and people who use it habitually often seem to be unable to omit from any communication. When somebody says something like, "Like, WTF?   My f***ing boyfriend lost my f***ing car keys, and now I have to f***ing walk to the f***ing 7-Eleven to buy some f***ing Marlboros. Sometimes he is so f***ing stupid. Cute, but f***ing stupid," I want to shout, "Hey, do you kiss your mama with that mouth? Is that the only word you know? Maybe you should download that Word Dynamo app and discover new ones."

I don't do it, though.  I am smart enough to know that people aren't going to change what they do, or what they say just because I don't approve.  Besides, if I did confront them, they would probably just tell me to F-off.

And mostly, I guess I figure they have a right to talk that way if they want to. Often, however, their use of that particular word at least somewhat overshadows whatever they are trying to convey, and diminishes them in they eyes of some people, including this old dinosaur. I think my mother was right to teach us to use appropriate speech, speech that does not insult, injure, or offend those who are listening. Usually, dropping the F-bomb oversteps at least one of those boundaries despite our society's change in attitude about its use.