Damn. A word that is universally heard around the United States as a curse word and the only I could say in a paper and feel okay using to tell a story. Words are the basis of communication for most the world and are used to the point that many words lose their value and stigmatism. When I was a young boy I remember going to work with my father around the age of seven or eight and hearing my first slew of curse words.
The memories are hazy to say the least but I remember going with my father one day after school to his office to pick up some papers that he needed to work on at home. At the time I didn’t know but now I am fully aware of the fact that I was walking straight into a boys club. I moved through the security with my father and the entire receptionist’s panel was pleasant. We moved into his office and he totally me to stay put in his chair while he went to a locker to go grab some things. Me being the respectful young son I was, I listened till my curiosity got the best of me. I was surrounded by big police men with their guns and badges and was ready to learn and talk to all of the people I could see. I walked around office making sure I stayed close to the chair that I was attached to. As I walked around the office I got a bit lost in the maze of people and found myself in a lounge room of sorts with people eating their dinner and completely unaware of my presence. I wasn’t even listening to the people in the room when all of sudden I heard a few four letter words I had never heard before. Without a moment notice my father arrived and swept me up under his arms and said to me, “son never repeat the things you heard right there.” As any curious boy would ask I said, “Dad what do those words mean anyways?” He said to me, “those words are for people who cannot think hard enough to come up with better things to say son.”
The first time I heard those words was more importantly the first time I heard my father have a real concern about my innocence. It taught me a lot of things but in hindsight the best part of that experience was that exposure. By having the initial experience with the protection of my father it was nice to be held in the arms of my father while learning the ways that the world works. The first time I ever heard a cuss word was the first time I realized how much I was protected.
That's a great story, Austin. I don't think I can remember the first time I heard somebody say a cuss word. There were a lot of moments in my childhood I didn't really understand what was really going on, but, looking back, I have come to respect my parents even more for how they raised me.
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