I have been swearing a lot lately. Very unlike me. Almost always around Eastertime do I find myself reflecting (ironically, I guess that’s one key point of Easter season…) on odd things. I do not like curse words. Never grew up hearing them or using them — I give Cantonese insults a pass because they never cease to make me laugh more than serve to vent — and I always chided others for their frequent and cavalier integration of f***, s***, b**ch, etc into daily vocabulary.
This recent swearing has led me to suddenly remember our SWEAR JAR! Which, I am grateful that this random memory resurfaced because these inside jokes and anecdotes are so precious to me. In college, you and I were both equally opposed to general swearing, so we implemented a swear jar in our dorm. Every time one of us or any visitors to 1307 used a curse word, they had to put a dollar into our swear jar. The swear jar was a permanent fixture on our dining table. It was a glass jar with a hinge lid and we taped a piece of paper “SWEAR JAR” on it.
The swear jar garnered so many laughs in 1307. From our own individually administered fines for cursing to our friends who came by and thought it a hoot and willingly dropped in $5–10 bills per visit to get a “pass” on using curse words for the entire night. We had fun. It falls into the category of silly things we did, such as naming our fridge Harold and your laptop Lazarus.
At some point, we discounted to a quarter per swear word, as, well, we were getting broke really fast. Did it help with developing a better habit to eliminate curse words from our regular use? Maybe. I remember trying to substitute with “snap, crackle, pop” or “son of a banana” or “crackers”. I can still hear your chuckles now.
Did we take the swear jar money and spend it on a few drinks or dinner? I can’t remember. Help me remember please.
