Welcome to Day 6 of a 31 day challenge to write 500 words or more. For more on that click here: goinswriter.com
IT’S ELECTION DAY!!
That’s pretty much all I have to say about that.
I would like to discuss a serious issue however that I have yet to hear addressed from any of the candidates who are running for . . . you know . . . the offices.
Warning – Some of the language used in this post may not be suitable for children.
When I was a child it was understood that were two four letter “F words” although only one of them was ever spoken in our home and that one, only once . . . by me . . . at the dinner table. There was the standard “F word” which none of us dared to think, even in the privacy of our own rooms because we were certain that our parents would sense it immediately and the consequences would be apocalyptic. The other was less severe but nonetheless, there was a clear understanding that we do not say (I can barely type it now) “f-rt” in the Jones home.
We mostly talked around the actual function itself but when it was absolutely necessary we had our own, more tolerable vernacular that had been handed down from my Grandmother. “Letting a pufter” for example or “blowing a southern wind” (think about that one for a moment) were perfectly acceptable — but never — under any circumstances — the F word.
Don’t get me wrong. We still laughed until our ears hurt when someone snapped a branch off the cheese tree because I don’t care who you are, f-rts are funny. I get that — BUT — shouldn’t the real source of comedic potential be rooted in the fact that you’re not supposed to talk about it?
This is why I was aghast (no pun intended) today when I took my five year old son to the toy aisle at the Wal-Mart. There were (and I am not exaggerating here) no less than 37 billion toys whose entire purpose was to simulate flatulence and most of them had the F word printed right there on the packaging. There were f-rt megaphones, f-rt iPods, remote controlled mega f-rt radios and f-rt pianos (I’m not making this up). If that wasn’t enough there were half again as many toys that pulled out all the stops and went straight for the p-0p word. Games named “Doggie Doo” and DIY make your own poop kits. Why would you ever need that?
I am only slightly comforted by the fact that this is not JUST an American problem. Korea for example has a famous cartoon character who spends the bulk of his time collecting poo and sculpting things from it. He even wears a poo hat. In Japan you can visit the toilet museum where you can get a poo hat of your own and be serenaded by toilets. And you’ll be relieve to know that Doggie Doo was wildly popular in Germany, Spain, Holland and France before it ever hit American lawns.
I’m all for freedom of speech. I would never suggest that we pass legislature banning toilet humor from the Wal-Mart toy aisle but couldn’t we try just a wee bit of restraint (no pun intended). Show me a leader, like my father, who can sit across from toy manufacturers and, without speaking a solitary word, give them a glare that instantly freezes their innards and for the rest of their lives will cause their tongue to go numb the moment they even consider uttering the F word . . . again . . . at the dinner table.
Not the real F word.
The other one.
Yeah. I’d vote for that guy.
And those are my 500 words.
Here is some bonus material.
