THE B-LOG

HOW THE B-LOG WAS BORN

This blog was inspired by a conversation I recently overheard in a Dunkin Donuts line - because I was eavesdropping - in which two middle-aged women were discussing a third woman they both knew.

"She's such a 'B-Word'," the shorter brunette said. To which her taller, red-headed friend responded: "OMG! A total 'B-Word'."

Of course I knew that these two adult women, who seemed moderately intelligent (matching yoga outfits and color-coordinated yoga mat carrying bags with designer water bottles notwithstanding) were speaking in "swear word code" about what a bitch their third, unnamed acquaintance was.

What struck me wasn't their familiar enough girl clique chatter, but their refusal to simply say "bitch." In 2014. In America. In a Dunkin Donuts line, where there were no impressionable children or modest elderly people nearby, and where I, at least, would have appreciated hearing them use their words - all their words - like the articulate, educated adults they appeared to be.

And that was when my easily distracted mind shifted to Oprah Winfrey. As I slowly moved forward in the Dunkin line while the "B-Word" chatter dissolved into mere background noise, I thought about how, many years ago, Oprah decided that women, as a collective gender, needed to take back the word "Bitch." If we wanted to disarm it, then we had to say it. We had to hear it. We had to own it. At least that was what Oprah thought.

Whatever the case - whether women liked the idea or simply loved Oprah a little too much for my comfort (both were probably true) - "Bitch" became another piece of HARPO merchandise. It was suddenly bandied about as a term of endearment, a compliment, a symbol of female power and strength and solidarity. People stopped shuddering when the word was thrown into casual conversation. Instead, they said it out loud when they thought it was called for (and often when it wasn't). What's more, they proudly applied it to themselves when someone else lobbed it at them, in a sort of "Yeah, I'm a bitch. So what of it?"

Despite the gimmicky nature of the whole thing, the part of taking "Bitch" back that I appreciated was what compelled me, years later, to listen to these two yoga women censor themselves into utter ridiculousness.

And here's where I risk slipping into Hallmark territory, but I think I have to say it-- language is a gift. Yet, despite the infinite possibilities that can happen when we put letters side by side to convey meaning, we rarely use the majority of word possibilities creatively or correctly.

I love words, which is why I study them, use them, mold and shape them, and even, when an occassion calls for it, create my own. (I bet you don't know what a vnabicle is. And you never will - not unless I tell you.) And if there's one thing of which I am certain, it is this: If we feel the need to use some kind of hyphenated baby talk to communicate a word or phrase, then we should probably choose another word or phrase altogether.

Words, like money, are a form of currency. On their own, they are worthless. It is we who give them meaning, and it is that meaning that gives them value, and that value that gives them power.

And all of that is what gave me the idea to write this blog. Because "Bitch" isn't A "B-word" --- until now, it has been universally accepted as THE "B-Word." But what about all the other B-words out there? All the ones I use on a regular basis. I probably couldn't have a coded conversation about them the same way most of us can about THE B-Word, because my B-words are so personal to me that no one else would probably know whether I was talking about "bricks" or "bonnets" or "Bordeaux" on any given day.

If I'd had my wits about me that day in Dunkin Donuts, I would have interrupted the yoga ladies' conversation with something like: "Excuse me, but what is a 'B-Word'?" Just to see what they would have said. I'm sure they would have been so offended, both by my interruption and by my feigned lack of B-Word understanding, that one or both of them probably would have reached into their Coach bags and pulled out a magnifying mirror and held it up to my face in response. And, if I'm being honest, that probably would have been the correct answer. I can be a real B-Word when I want to. And sometimes when I don't.

But this blog is dedicated to all the OTHER B-words out there. The non-Bitch ones. The ones that mean a little something to me. Granted, they probably mean nothing at all to Oprah, but that's ok. They don't have to. They still deserve an opportunity to take back the B.

THE B-LOG

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