I can easily count on two hands the number of people I know who refuse to swear.
For the record, I'm certainly not one of them. There are undoubtedly many people out there who do not use our four-lettered friends on a regular basis, if ever at all. To be fair, this columnist's surroundings -- work or otherwise -- are not what you'd call family-friendly environments during nine months of the year. I'll give you more on that in a moment.
Nonetheless, I will acknowledge that there is a large number of "unknowns" out there who do not drop the f-bomb ... ever.
For most of these people, the decision is one they have been raised into. Their upbringings are usually religious, though not always, and they've always been brought up by stern parents.
This isn't to knock those people -- they should be commended for being able to withstand using the "language" despite it's heavy reliance on American English, the Internet and Paris Hilton videos.
Think back to the first time you remember hearing or using some sort of combination of letters that would make a priest's hair stand on end.
I was in elementary school and had recently moved to the suburbs of my native city, Fort Wayne. There, once shy and scared to death of my new surroundings, I met a new friend. Within six months, I was hiding new vocabulary from my teachers and parents.
Eventually, my language began to surface. After a few mouthfuls of soap -- Ivory: delicious -- I quickly learned a lesson about those words.
Use them ... just not around your parents.
Continuing readers will note that my summer job places me in the roll of a day-camp counselor -- a position I value and actually do enjoy.
Just this week, after soaking a kid with a bucket of water during a water game, I started walking past the same child to fill up said bucket at the nearby sink.
In the midst of his 7-year-old shivers, I heard him mutter "s---."
I turned around and observed as his two friends ran up to him and questioned the exact same thing I was.
"What'd you say?" the friend asked.
Still shivering, he spelled the word out, all four letters.
I immediately halted the conversation, taking appropriate action per our camp rules, but the whole situation got me thinking about how our language is easily influenced by others.
Surely, he'd heard this word from someone older: a brother, parent or someone else of influence.
When I notified his mom that afternoon, she did not seem too surprised.
To those people who do not cuss, the above story is an excellent reason why they should be commended for it. I take guilt often knowing that my words and phrases, when used in public, can be instantly the new buzzword for any nearby child.
Sure, we eventually all learn these words at some point in our lives; you would be hard-pressed to find someone who does not know of or understand what these words mean.
However, the keyword in that sentence is eventually.
Cussing is largely a personal values-related decision. Children are too young to make these decisions. Once they grow older -- and move off to college -- then they can decide what they believe is proper, or otherwise, to say.
Until then, it's unjust for us to make the decision for them by not watching our mouths around them.
Now, after a long discussion such as this, it's almost enough to make you want to quit cussing altogether.
Well, f--- that.
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