Swearing off swearing (Week 3)
"I've no more f**ks to give, my f**ks have run adry. I've tried to go f**k shopping but there's no f**ks left to buy."
Oh, Thomas Wild, you are a cheeky you-know-what. I was listening to this minor YouTube sensation last week when the thought struck me that I have a very casual and permissive attitude toward foul language. I think that's what Thomas is subtly getting at in his irreverent little ditty, which is entertaining mostly because he's performing his banjo number in a three-piece suit while letting out a string of f-bombs.
I might as well be that guy. I sometimes revel in seeing the raised eyebrows and aghast expressions when I drop a major cuss into a conversation. It's probably because people just aren't expecting it from me. So, why do I even do it? And what would a week be like if I just parked my potty mouth for seven straight days? I was about to find out!
On the home front, Val tries to keep me in line with my occasional foul tongue by pointing out my needless usage of "God" this and "Jesus" that, adding that being an atheist doesn't excuse me from offensive language. So for the full week, I agreed to include even these seemingly minor sins in my list of no-nos.
Here's what I quickly found out. It's not that hard to keep it classy.
A few times, when I felt the need to spice up my sentence with a tasty little expletive, I just caught myself in mid-stride and put it on the shelf. If anything, there were a lot of awkward pauses in my speech during the week as I sought to find a clever and hopefully humorous replacement for the bomb I was about to drop.
What does the research tell us? A casual scan reveals that some scientists (if that's what you want to call clinical psychologists) believe swearing can be good for you, but the more convincing study to me was all about perception. Some smarty pants at Cambridge has linked the absence of profanity with the belief in a person being more honest. Well, I will certainly take that. Believe me!
Over the course of my squeaky clean week, I can say that I did notice people listening every so slightly more intently to what I was saying. For one thing, Val seemed to agree with me more often, and that's saying something!
One thing in particular that came from those seven days was an actual behavior adjustment. This challenge was nothing at all like going meat-free for a week. At the end of those seven days, Val and I put a big pork roast in the oven and feasted like a pair of cave dwellers. We just missed it so much! And although we are introducing more frequent meat-free meals in our diets, we didn't embrace it wholeheartedly. After seven days of not swearing, I didn't feel the need to suddenly gorge on the @*$^$#. Hardly. In fact, it's been more than 24 hours as I write this and I still haven't felt the need to cuss.
I've cleaned up my act, and it's more empowering than I imagined it might be.
NEXT WEEK: No gaming!
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| Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq. performing on YouTube |
Oh, Thomas Wild, you are a cheeky you-know-what. I was listening to this minor YouTube sensation last week when the thought struck me that I have a very casual and permissive attitude toward foul language. I think that's what Thomas is subtly getting at in his irreverent little ditty, which is entertaining mostly because he's performing his banjo number in a three-piece suit while letting out a string of f-bombs.
I might as well be that guy. I sometimes revel in seeing the raised eyebrows and aghast expressions when I drop a major cuss into a conversation. It's probably because people just aren't expecting it from me. So, why do I even do it? And what would a week be like if I just parked my potty mouth for seven straight days? I was about to find out!
On the home front, Val tries to keep me in line with my occasional foul tongue by pointing out my needless usage of "God" this and "Jesus" that, adding that being an atheist doesn't excuse me from offensive language. So for the full week, I agreed to include even these seemingly minor sins in my list of no-nos.
Here's what I quickly found out. It's not that hard to keep it classy.
A few times, when I felt the need to spice up my sentence with a tasty little expletive, I just caught myself in mid-stride and put it on the shelf. If anything, there were a lot of awkward pauses in my speech during the week as I sought to find a clever and hopefully humorous replacement for the bomb I was about to drop.
What does the research tell us? A casual scan reveals that some scientists (if that's what you want to call clinical psychologists) believe swearing can be good for you, but the more convincing study to me was all about perception. Some smarty pants at Cambridge has linked the absence of profanity with the belief in a person being more honest. Well, I will certainly take that. Believe me!
Over the course of my squeaky clean week, I can say that I did notice people listening every so slightly more intently to what I was saying. For one thing, Val seemed to agree with me more often, and that's saying something!
One thing in particular that came from those seven days was an actual behavior adjustment. This challenge was nothing at all like going meat-free for a week. At the end of those seven days, Val and I put a big pork roast in the oven and feasted like a pair of cave dwellers. We just missed it so much! And although we are introducing more frequent meat-free meals in our diets, we didn't embrace it wholeheartedly. After seven days of not swearing, I didn't feel the need to suddenly gorge on the @*$^$#. Hardly. In fact, it's been more than 24 hours as I write this and I still haven't felt the need to cuss.
I've cleaned up my act, and it's more empowering than I imagined it might be.
NEXT WEEK: No gaming!
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