Vulgarity

The recent YouTube video of a woman launching a racist diatribe on a London tram has shocked and appalled most who’ve watched it. Secretly filmed, the woman can be seen abusing and ranting at fellow passengers on the tram, many of different ethnicities, and blaming them for the downfall in Britain’s fortunes. It is a disgusting display of bigotry and ignorance which I won’t link to here because it doesn’t need any more exposure.

While the hate filled woman spouts her small minded, verbal diarrhoea, a small child sits on her lap. Whatever about her wanting to voice her hatred for other ‘non British’ races surely she should be concerned about the language she is using in front of what she says is her child. Cursing and swearing in front of her offspring is hardly good parenting (I’m aware, neither is being an ignorant racist. You need a licence for a dog but anyone can have kids.)

Unfortunately I’ve had a real life example of children exposed to inappropriate language on public transport. Only in this instance, it was the cute and innocent 5 year old boy who was walking up to passengers on the 150 bus Monday evening and telling us all to ‘Fuck off.’ If it had been a Roddy Doyle book it might be amusing but in this case the aggressive tiny tot was a little uncomfortable.

The toddler was marching up and down the upstairs aisle of the bus shouting at the other passengers while the person responsible for him sat down the back laughing and telling him he was ‘the best boy’ and ‘he could say whatever he wanted.’ She was about sixteen so I’m not sure if she was the child’s mother but it did seem that way despite her lack of concern for the kid’s behaviour. Actually that’s not entirely true; she did make sure he blessed himself when the bus passed a church.

I enjoy a good curse. I can ‘fuck’ ‘bollix’ ‘wank’ with the best of them, but I would never have dared to curse in front of my elders and most definitely not my parents. You can say a five year old knows no better, but whose fault is that?

The first time I swore in front of my mother was in 1984 when I said shit. That was only after seeing Harrison Ford say it in Temple of Doom. If it was ok for Indiana Jones surely it was ok for me. It wasn’t. Then there was the time I got grounded for a week for telling James Cooper to ‘Fuck off.’

We were playing with our toy cars on the street outside his house, which was three doors down from mine and we were wheeling the Corgi James Bond Lotus Espirt to each when James wheeled it too hard and it bounced up and hit me in the face. Shocked, in pain and forgetting where I was I screamed at him using language fitting of a docker. A couple of moments later my Dad, who was never shy of choice vulgarity himself, appeared at our front door and beckoned me.

“Did I just hear you telling James to Fuck Off” he asked.

Well what could I say? I hadn’t actually realised I cursed, it just came out. I was told to come in and that I wasn’t allowed out for a week. In fairness the grounding probably lasted for the rest of the day. If I’d been smarter I could have argued the hypocrisy of my dad scolding me for swearing. But I was 6.

Kids these days are a lot smarter. And vulgar.