An Amicable End to My Life Long Love Affair With the "F" Word

I have come to a point in my life where I give more thought to how my words and action impact others, especially younger people. There is one word in particular that has taken up much of this thought. That one word, versatile, expressive, dirty and pretty all in the same breathe.  I am talking about the "F" word, a word so sensational that I dare not type it in long form.

I can't quite put my finger on when my love for the "F" word began. The best I can do is point to a scene from the 80's film Coming to America in which Clarence the Barber, after becoming indignant to learn that his friends do not believe Joe Lewis is indeed 137 years old, turns to them and says "F you, F you and F you, who's next?"

In short time I became enthralled with the "F" word, especially when used as a progressive adjective and most definitely when combined with the word mother. I fell in love with the words versatility and ability to express raw emotion in simple terms.

To me the "F" word has been like music. It enhances sentences and adds needed color to each phrase. Things just began to sound better when the "F" word was added, particularly when inserted into the middle of a phrase. Good morning became Good "F'ing" Morning, Happy Birthday became Happy "F'ing Birthday and for added benefit Merry Christmas became Merry "Mother F'ing" Christmas.

I became so in love with the word that I waited through the whole of Snakes on a Plane, a truly awful film but with a brilliantly simple title, just to hear Samuel L Jackson utter the words like only he can, "That's it, I've had enough of these mother F'n snakes on this mother f''n plane.

As much as I grew to love the word, my relationship has always been infused with a great sense of unease. I am not ignorant to the dark connotative history of the word. I am not blind to the knowledge that the word is deeply offensive to many people. Most of all, I do not some day want to hear a child yell in anger "F you," and know that it is because of me.

While my long love affair with the "F" word has been sweet at times, I don't want it to become my legacy. I am not naive enough to think that continuing to use the word in any form passes the simple test of kindergarten logic. Telling children "Don't F'ing cuss" is simply illogical. Character is not communicated by telling others "Do as I say, not as I do." It is shown through action and passed on through the words we use.

So to you "F" word.  It's been real. I am sure I will see you in films and hear you on the street but you are no longer a part of me. We shall have the same relationship that I have with cigarettes. You are now part of my past. A part that I deeply appreciate for what it was, but one that I recognize, at least metaphorically, may have been killing me in some small way.