Most of the mail I get from D-news readers is friendly, but occasionally I do tick off people who respond by writing something nasty to me. The rare exception is that letter (or e-mail) I received the other day. A woman was concerned that I used the word "crap" in a column. She was distressed by my crude language and told me so. But she was very polite about it and offered both praise and encouragement along the way.
Now the honest truth is that I'll probably not stop using the word "crap" because I have liked that word ever since I discovered it in the fifth grade. But I genuinely appreciated the tone of the reader's e-mail and felt kindly disposed toward her and her posterity.
I had a fudge malt at Hires last night--probably the last I'll have in a while since it's supposed to be turning into winter tomorrow night. Bleh. Winter.
7 comments:
Winter is crap.
I love winter! But I really love fall. So I'm going to go out on a limb and say, fall is not over yet, not even with a blustery day tomorrow. I am anticipating a beautiful October.
It's nice when people can be polite in their criticism. But honestly, criticism still feels like crap. However, you could possibly try substituting "pants" for "crap"--I hear it means the same basic thing in the U.K., and it tickles me every time I think of it.
So excited crappy summer is over. Bring on the fall crap!
pants is a good word but you could also use dodgy, iffy and my favourite moody - all of them mean crappy to a certain degree.
Dear Ann,
Oh my heck! You used a freaking crude word. Remember you're supposed to be a dang good example to others.
I am glad she was nice.
Sorry that might've been your last flippin fudge malt.
I think winter might be just the time to have a fudgy malt. I'm already thinking of ways to treat myself this winter without 1)getting fat, 2)losing my temple recommend, or taking someone else down with me. Small goals, but you know . . .
If only I could train myself to say "crap" when I actually say another, similar, though cruder, word. Like this morning when I fell down running in the intersection of Second Avenue and A Street, I wish I had said crap. Instead, I said the word which will not doubt be the last word of my mortal existence, especially if I die an unnatural death. Luckily, no cars were going through the intersection or it may, in fact, have been my last word.
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