I Swear

Pete Lawson25 Comments on I Swear

When you get bad news its natural to swear out loud just for the sake of it; it makes you feel better for a little bit, but not for ever.  Every single time I have been diagnosed with cancer I said out loud WTF without skipping a beat.  Swearing is important, it releases your emotion, but don’t use it all up at once, you’ll probably need it regularly during treatment. 

Unfortunately true swearing is an old art form that has been diluted over the years with people using it way too often.  Now it no longer has the shocking impact it used to.  There are two schools of swearing; one is swearing every other word like Irish people I know.  (“I got up out of F_______ bed today and walked down to the F______ store to get some F_______ potatoes and F________Guinness.”) To me that’s more like common everyday language using different adjectives to describe things.  It’s not that offensive and I hear it so often it doesn’t get my attention.  The old school of swearing, however, which my parents taught me, is loud, blue lighting blasts of Old Testament blasphemy that would literally make your hair curl.  My father, Gerald Joseph Lawson, and my mother, Mary Eileen McMahon, were very polite people who you would never expect to ever utter a curse, but they did all the time when my siblings and I did stupid things.  Like the sound a tree makes no one hears falling in the woods; no one ever heard them swear except us on the receiving end.  In fact,  I blame my skin cancer on the sunburns from the radioactive blasts I got from my parents’ cursing at me.  Like the time I threw a frisbee through the front door window.  I could see my father stomping out towards me from the living room, “J________  C________, we live on 10 G________ acres of F_________ apple orchard and you have to throw that G__________ frisbee ten F__________  feet from the G____________ window.”  You get the picture.  A couple days later my dad took me to confession at St. Mary’s Church (like I did something wrong, WTF) and he went in first.  It took a while for him to finish since the priest had to step out to take three separate cigarette breaks just to make it through without passing out.  I swear I heard Fr. O’Reilly mutter at least once coming back in, “Jesus Christ.” 

Learning from the best, I raised my sons in the same way.  Whether it was screaming at the TV during a Notre Dame football game or when they were in high school doing something stupid like I used to, they could always count on an explosion from me.  When the boys were little they would ask Diane, “what is Dad saying?”  She’d cover it up simply with “Dad’s just praying.”  They would giggle,  “He prays an awful lot.”  St. Peter rises again, praise Jesus!  I didn’t think it effected them at all until decades later we had an ND watch party for the Fiesta Bowl.  Our British friends,  Michelle and Malcom Colley, came by and weren’t paying any attention to the game at all, but instead were fascinated by Devin’s broad spectrum of swearing and vulgarity.  The next day Michelle gave us her written top ten list of cursing that Devin produced during the game, “I’ve never heard anything like it” she gushed in utter amazement.  I was so proud, I wanted to have a bumper sticker made, “My Son Swears More than British Soccer Fans.” 

All that said, it’s natural to get angry at cancer whether it’s yours or someone else’s.  The emotional release is helpful short term, but being angry at it all the time or at the people treating it makes it harder for good people to be around you including your caregivers.  Give it a good blast once, then focus your energy on recovering.  Fuck it.

25 Comments

  1. I love swearing Mr. Pete. It makes me laugh and simultaneously feel better about things. I come from a long line of potty mouths on one side on my family. 🤬 I won’t mention which side…but my mom really hates my foul language. 👀

    That being said…I am a school teacher and I certainly don’t swear while interacting with students. To make up for that…during nights or on the weekends…I like to push my verbal boundaries…just to feel free…and maybe get a good laugh.

    I tell Cash that I teach him swear words so that he always knows what not to say. He replies back…”Yeah right Mom.” He calls me “Mom” now instead of “Mommy” because he’s almost nine. I try to teach him important life lessons…but I’m never sure if they sink in. I’ve had talks with him about not setting the sandbox roof on fire or sitting in a campfire. 🔥 I think he took notes in his iPad…and listened to every word I said intently. Wait…maybe he was playing Roblox…

    #gamer

    I believe in Yin and Yang Mr. Pete. ☯️

    Cheers…🍻🍀🪳💕

    P.S. – Have a good night…Mo Fo.

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    1. Elisa, there’s a difference between swearing and swearin’, just sayin’. Like if you said to your class “will you shut the fuck up?” Vs. “alright, just fucking stop it.” It’s all in the delivery. Fuck. Pete

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  7. This is my favorite Pete! Such a favored word that’s amenable to many situations that befit no other! Regularly used, it can certainly help and lighten many loads and diffuse situations. I love this blog!! Thanks for sharing you wit and wisdom and especially your bad words!!!

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  9. Needless to say, having Perry King for a father completely numbed any shock value in swearing for me. Growing up in West Orange probably didn’t help either. Jeannette and her sister Carolyn will sometimes comment about my language and I have no idea what they’re talking about but that’s not unusual for many reasons.

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  14. Good call Pete as usual reminds me of the Christmas story when Alfie’s helping dad change the flat tire and the lug nuts get spilled in the snow

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