What the heck!

Every Thursday, I phone-in to a popular morning radio show. The station bosses and show hosts are exceptionally generous; they let me spout whatever I feel like spouting. I can't remember ever spouting anything they chose to use the dump button for-that's because I, like you, have a sense of what one should and should not say on the air.

Hell, the underworld, is a word our sense tells us we should not say on the air, or type on the page. Hereafter a lone H, will represent the geographical locale of Hell.

I don't know why we have that sense about H, we just do, or at least I do, and I suspect you do, too. Moreover, I would hold my saying H to a severe minimum while in your home, talking to a person whom I thought was under 14, or while speaking with your grandmother.

What is the point of not speaking or writing the occasional H, or son of a b, or the naughty word for dang? It surely can't be we're at all put-off hearing those words, because many of us hear and even say those words allot, with no adverse effect. So it must be to protect our young children from hearing those words. These are words that they are going to be hearing early and often sooner than later; in fact young people probably already hear them often, in the comfort of their own home. We figure, too, protecting our young from bad words will help assure they grow up proper citizens. I guess is what we figure.

I get it that for some reason we puritans aren't willing to allow our ears and eyes to take in certain words. Therefore, I gladly adhere to the FCC's guidelines regarding sinful language when I'm on the air, or writing for someone else's publication. When it's my live show, I'll use cuss words to taste.

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