Today’s post comes as a result of a rant by Jenna Mourey, who is better known as Jenna Marbles.
Her Wikipedia page says Mourey, 25, “came to prominence as a blogger for stoollala.com, a now-defunct brother site of barstoolsports.com.”
After discovering her videos awhile back, I’ve become a fan of her postings each week on YouTube. I especially liked the video she posted Wednesday. DO NOT click on the link, however, if you are unfamiliar with Mourey AND are uncomfortable with:
- Describing female breasts in ways that are far from ladylike.
- Using the F-word and its many conjugations as often as possible.
Clearly, this works for Mourey, whose videos attract millions of viewers. Her work shows that she is shrewd enough to capitalize on her looks, smarts and sense of humor. More power to her.
Only in America, as boxing promoter Don King would say.
But I’ve grown old enough to dislike overusing the F-word. And I can’t help but wonder if Mourey will feel the same way in 20 years, when she will be the age I am now.
For me, this hasn’t always been the case.
I’ve written often about my dad, Tom Steinbach, who died in 2008. But I’ve never written about the nickname he was given many years ago by me and my brothers, Scott and Doug. We were boys on the hot, summer day that dad was trying to fix a broken piece of farm machinery (the hay mower, I think, but I’m not sure.)
Anyway, the work wasn’t going well. It was hot. Everyone was frustrated. I was probably bored because, as has previously been established on this blog, I was never the mechanic in the family.
Finally, Scott (it had to have been Scott) says to Dad: “This is a dumb fucking way to fix it. Why are you doing it this way?”
Dad’s response has become one of the hundreds of reasons why I know he was the greatest dad ever. He just looked up and said something along the lines of: “All right. If you little fuckers think you are so smart, fix it yourself.”
And he just left us there by ourselves.
What happened immediately after that, I don’t remember. Most likely Scott fixed whatever was broken.
But what took place over time isn’t something that could happen in many — maybe any — other families. In our little tight-knit family, Dad’s nickname became DF — short for, well, you can figure it out. Scott, Doug and I, along with our sister, Susan, usually called him by this nickname until the day he died. And he was OK with it.
As I think about it now, even I find it hard to believe. But it says a great deal about Dad. He never took himself too seriously. He also always pushed us to think four ourselves and speak up when it was necessary.
The only downside — if there was one — is that I became someone who often overused the F-word. In fact, I often still overuse it. At least when I talk to family members and friends.
But I’ve weaned myself from dropping F-bombs online, mainly on Facebook, but also on this blog. What you say on the Internet stays there. Forever. And that’s not the legacy I want. Someday, I’d like to be remembered for being able to make a point without leaning on that literary crutch.
My guess is Jenna Marbles may look at her old videos someday and wish she had reached the same conclusion sooner. I say that even though it may make me sound like an old man and even though I still really like her videos.