The diatribe of obscenities flew out of my mouth like bats streaming out of a cave. My Internet was not playing nice. And I was giving it a piece of my unfiltered mind.
Problem was, I was on a work call and despite me thinking my Internet access as being spotty, all of the words – many of them bad – were coming through loud and clear on the other end.
My wide-eyed colleague stared back at me.
“Robert, I didn’t know you had that in you. You are always so professional,” she said.
That drew a chuckle. Then I had to admit I am a serial swearer.
She was shocked. But those close to me know better.
I took a creative writing class while in college. I wanted to pursue a degree in that discipline, and this was the first step. I was still working at the Tampa Tribune and writing every day. My creative muscle was probably as strong as it has ever been.
My professor was a middle-aged balding man who had a degree from Yale. I was intimidated by his credentials, but he turned out to be very down to earth and encouraging. He rarely had negative feedback about anyone’s work.
Every week we were given an exercise – a play, a poem, a short story etc. We then had to read our work aloud to the class. That was daunting. I wrote some pretty dark pieces back then. Reading them aloud was exposing a side of me that people probably didn’t know. there was a dark side lurking under this mild-mannered exterior. Blame it on Stephen King. Or the divorce that I was going through.
During one of my readings, the professor stopped me.
“Robert, that adjective you used was ‘le mot juste.’”1
Le wha wha? I thought.
Coined by author Gustave Flaubert, the literal translation is “the right word.” But to Flaubert, it was a relentless and tiring pursuit. In his mind finding the perfect word was high art.
Perhaps his most famous work, “Madame Bovary,” is like eating layer cake with your eyes. He famously labored over each page. It took him five years to complete.
While I don’t have that dedication, I do consciously try to find the exact right word when writing.
And sometimes, it’s a good old cuss word.
Erin and I were sitting out on the back deck with the kids one day. Henry was around three. He was playing solo in our backyard playground. He was talking to himself like many kids do. Mom and dad were having a conversation when both of our ears pricked up.
We exchanged a questioning look. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Yes, it was Henry.
“Give me the f*cking stick,” he said over and over. Just letting his F-flag fly.
Our first instinct was to stifle laughter. We did not want to encourage this behavior. My second feeling was pride.
He was at least using the word properly.
No no. Bad parent.
We didn’t specifically correct him that time but rather employed some subterfuge to engage him and change the subject.
The next day at daycare, we told his teacher. Just in case Henry turned into a surly sailor during class.
“Oh yeah,” she responded. “It’s been going around.”
Yes, the great F-word plague of 2011.
I’m just glad it wasn’t us. Or maybe it was. Neither of us could hold our tongue when driving.
Former racecar driver Dale Earnhardt Junior likely had similar sentiments. After he won for the fifth time at Martinsville, he was asked how it felt since his father had won there 10 times.
Junior responded that it “didn’t mean sh*t” during a national TV interview. Erin and I must’ve watched it 10 times on TiVo.
NASCAR actually docked him points which took him out of the title race. That was a very costly cuss word.
But, it was the exact right word at the time.
You know who backs me up? Science people.
Take for example, this study: Taboo word fluency and knowledge of slurs and general pejoratives: deconstructing the poverty-of-vocabulary myth.
You had me at “taboo.”
A doctor from the Cleveland Clinic summed it up this way:
“The experiment may sound complicated, but it isn’t. The examiner chooses a letter, and asks the test subject to list as many words as they can that start with that letter. They then do the task again, asking the test subject to list swear words that begin with the letter. Finally, they ask the test subject to list animals whose names begin with that letter.
The result, in Dr. Tworek’s words: “They noticed a trend. The more curse words that you can generate, the more regular words you’re generating as well. So it’s likely that you have a larger vocabulary on both ends.” Put differently, the more words you know, the more bad words you know. Fluency is fluency.”
Obviously there are some caveats in the study but it's worth a look.
In total, I have crammed 110,000 words into two books.
I believe I can count all of the profanities on one hand.
It wasn’t easy. It was a purposeful endeavor. Especially with the book about my illness. I could’ve just repeated the phrase, “this sh*t sucks” over and over.
Then I could join my buddy Jack at the Overlook Hotel.
While I did toss in a few expletives, I challenged myself to write around the easy words.
Let’s face it, swearing can be cathartic. Dropping the F-word at the right time is a great tension reliever.
I suppose I was reticent to start swearing in the book because I probably wouldn’t have stopped. Like anything, too much salty language can get tiring. Utilizing it sparingly is more impactful.
Even when it may be le mot juste, and especially if the F*cking Internet is down again.
If you are not fluent in French, you can use the mnemonic “lemon juice.” That's courtesy of my wife.
I could not love this story more.
I blame my parents being so strict for the potty mouth I developed as an adult. When I was in the sixth grade I said butt and my mom lost her mind. She made me call my dad at his office to ask permission to say that word. He asked me if I thought I was “old enough to use that kind of language.” Nervously, I said yes. Only now I wish I would’ve said, “Hell yeah I do,” but I’m not sure I would’ve lived to tell the story.
From now on, just call me Surly Sailor.
Just found your Substack. Fellow reformed journalist who is looking forward to reading your work. Have a similar story you might appreciate about my daughter that has entered family lore: https://open.substack.com/pub/glenncook/p/the-zoo-story-moo-moo-and-scribbles?r=727x&utm_medium=ios