Bill's Broadsides

What the H-E-double hockeysticks?

I spent a little time at the Rail Fest today in Gloversville, where my band was one of the musical acts in the big gazebo. It was a great event; the weather was beautiful and the turnout seemed excellent.

What surprised me, though, as I walked among the tents and tables at this nice, family-oriented event, was the number of times I overheard people swearing like drunken pirates. Today I overheard so many "F-bombs" that, if "F-bombs" were actual bombs, Gloversville would be a giant, smouldering crater right now.   

I'm not a prude or a puritan by any means. On occasion, when I'm stressed or upset (or pretending to be a drunken pirate), I myself will let loose with the odd exclamation of "&*%!" or a "*%#$!" 

Yes, friends, even here in the newsroom at The Leader-Herald, where a solemn, nearly monastic calm is the prevailing mood, the editors will occasionally let slip a colorful phrase when a computer crashes three minutes before deadline.

The general etiquette, as I understand it, is that it's highly inappropriate to use profane or vulgar language in public places and situations, especially within earshot of elders and young children. At the Rail Fest today, I heard at least a dozen people -- old folks and children and people of all ages in between -- shouting epithets at each other: "Where's my @%^@%* hot dog with meat sauce, you $^*$^&@$%??!!??" was just one example.

Come on, people. Get some class.

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