Dirty Language

I never realized how protective I am of my professors. My two instructors are both foreign-born. Night classes at a community college can get a bit rowdy. I remember one instance in which a student wrote a story about his friend whom he called Douche-Bag. The Italian teacher had no idea what it meant. Later in the semester she asked if anyone had returned to a gelateria that we had gone to. One of the students said that he had, but that the owner was acting like a total dick.
"Cosa vuol dire DICK?"
Not so easy to explain... or maybe it was too easy!
I also come to terms with the fact that I am surrounded by some people both professionally and scholastically who simply have a narrow based vocabulary register that seems to have an overabundance of profanity. When I hear it I think that the person has either been in jail or that he associates with a more common denominator. My Mother used to refer to such peope as, "The Element!" "That's what happens," she used to say, "when the Element moves in."
I fancy myself a clean man.