This morning is my first back at work since last Wednesday. Where my desk is, I can readily hear hall conversations before the day begins. Of course, that is assisted by the fact that few middle school children know how to speak in a relaxed tone to someone three feet from them.
Today has been especially rough. All I kept hearing has been these emotionally-challenged youngsters attempt to curse as sailors and spit out quotes from the movie Superbad. Apparently, they all went out to see it this long weekend. I don’t know what parents allow their twelve year olds to see that rubbish, but they should be incarcerated. Besides, I don’t think you can even get half of that movie unless you’re over 21 and happened to grow up with the lot of friends that I did.
But the big thing on my mind: don’t these kids have grandparent language skills? You know, where you learn when you’re in public, or at least in earshot of authoritative adults, you start speaking as though you were at your grandmother’s house? I remember junior high, when using swear words as much as possible was fun and novel, even when one is completely inept at it. However, we all at least had the skill to switch it off when necessary.
Of course, I could very well have been just as obtuse when I was that age and am remembering things better than they were.
Still, we’re in a confined space with teachers ears every 20 feet. Think McLovin can wait until you’re walking home with your buddy?