Age of My First Clue

We can argue back and forth about whether calling Ivanka a "feckless cunt" was a step over the decency line.  It may have been during Pre-Trump days.  But now that Trump and his merry band of vaud-villains  have lowered the bar so low that fart jokes are now high humor, I find any argument nothing but a distraction. You want to blame someone, blame Trump and the class act he has following him everywhere.

But this post is not about Trump, Ivanka, or ....... anything important like saving the World from assholes and dimwits. 

Totally unconnected events in my life have conspired over time to make me relive moments from my past with a new clarity or just a different twist to add to the quiver of explanations I might have about that event or events.

I was finally old enough to be drawn into conversations about sex with buddies and their older brothers. It was an awakening of sorts, even if I came out of it still more than a tad unclear about how the docking of man and woman really worked.  Call it the age of my first clue.  Regardless, I learned some important words, "Fuck" being the most important and influential one. I would carry and use it with pride forever.  Some situations just cry out for its use.  Best adjective, verb, oh Hell, best word for almost every situation ..... Uh, sorry, gettin off track here.

Remember, I was maybe seven or eight when this life changing word entered my world. At the time though, "Fuck" was a word I was, serious look me in the eye warned to never use in front of an adult.  Even if they used it before I had.  Adults and their lookalikes, parents, might pull out the belt, the soap, or point you to a corner if they caught you using that word.

So forewarned being forearmed and all that, I went home and kept my secret new words secret.  I would whisper them occasionally and giggle, but never out loud in front of strangers.  These words were to be shared with the guys and no one else.

My fascination with the new secret words was just the point of the spear representing my growing interests in words generally. My parents had begun directing me to the nearest dictionary ( always at least one in every room ) when I asked them the meaning of a word they said or I had read.  They were not going to carry me anymore.

I remember frustration and anger.  But I also remember that along with this torrent of new words, a period of enlightenment began.  Life was not just Mom, Dad, and the backyard anymore.  New words pointed me in new directions.  I began to fall in love with words.

One morning I walked into the kitchen.  My dad was talking to my mom. In the course of the conversation, I heard him say "Fuckless".  I was shocked speechless.  Mom looks at me and asks me what my problem was.  I guess my face was also shocked, not just my brain.

"Uh, well Dad just said the "F" word.  My mom looked at me with deadpan eyes for a moment.  She turned back to my dad .  They stared at each other for an eternity and then burst out laughing.   So much laughing, it led to eye wiping and my mom leaving the kitchen.

Dad calmed down and considered me with a happy face.  "The word was not "Fuckless", it was "Feckless".  .......FECK-  less."

Of course my next question resulted in me going to the dictionary.

So, when I read what Samantha Bee said of Ivanka, I immediately changed her words in my mind to "Fuckless cunt" and then considered how that might also be appropriate in a Trumpian sort of way.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...........................................