Bad to the Bone

I was a good kid in sixth grade. So good, in fact, that I needed a release, which I addressed in the form of making rebellious friends, including someone who smoked cigarettes and a kid who pointlessly shoplifted candles from the local gift shop. I felt “bad” just associating with them, and liked it since it didn’t require me to do anything bad myself. Unlike others, I was cool to them because I didn’t judge them – not aloud, anyway. Although I was cool with them, I wasn’t actually bad enough for them, an opinion I wanted to change, so long as it didn’t require actually being bad.

In those days, our motley crew played four square each day at recess. Though I was not especially athletic, I was skilled enough to be competitive at this game. Still, I was not bad (as in badass) enough even at this activity: Most of my opponents would slam the ball into others’ squares so that it was nearly impossible to return, but I refused to engage in such heartless play. Consequently, I was called a wimp and other such variations, for which I couldn’t stand. I had to find a way to up my “bad” quotient. At last, I conceived a solution: Swear Square.

Swear Square wasn’t a new game entirely, rather an enhanced version of classic four square. The caveat, however, was that each time you were eliminated, you had to say the swear word that corresponded with the letter of the box in which you stood, be it ass, bitch, crap, or damn. In retrospect, I can’t believe how such a desperate, juvenile idea was so well received. As we saw it, however, swearing was bad, and so were we. That’s right, we, since I, too, was swearing right along with them. Plus, I came up with the concept, so I was essentially extra bad, regardless of whether I was willing to slam the ball. “Crap!” I’d yell when I lost in the C square. While in the B position, I’d scream, “Bitch!” Some of the girls who used to play with us, including my top-secret-girlfriend, stopped because they weren’t willing to curse freely. That was unfortunate, but they were causalities of war. Not everyone could be as bad as us.

Swear Square persisted for nearly two months before being declared passé. Apparently, swearing had become kind of boring, so the people I was trying to conform with effectively ended the game. I could hardly blame them: I had sworn so frequently, I had become desensitized to it and no longer even felt “bad” for doing so, a positive situation for me. Nevertheless, in an effort to maintain my position, I tried to convince everyone it was still bad to swear and play four square, to no success.

I needed a new plan. Soon thereafter, I proposed a variation where in addition to swearing, we’d have to use just our middle fingers to hit the ball! Bad, huh? Right?! Yeah, well, I understand it would take a lot of the action out of the game, but it’s worth it to hold up our middle fingers, though. Right?! Right? Come on, let’s just try it…

I wasn’t bad, I was pathetic. By seventh grade, none of my “bad” friends were even speaking to me.

All-4-One - I Swear
The Shins - Turn a Square
P. Diddy - Bad Boys for Life