The person I have to thank for alerting me to Sarah Fentem’s awesome and way overdue attack on the P word is, ironically, a man. A straight man. A straight man who has removed MY underwear (a perfectly acceptable word, underwear) quite expertly, many a time, in years past. And on all of those occasions, not once did he call them p…a…n…t…i…e…s.
Had he done so, I would’ve given the romance a week at best instead of the year-long angst-affair it blossomed into. He’s a good egg, though. We’re friends now. I mean he told me about this article in The Atlantic, right? So… he just did a real mitzvah. (What can I say, I love the Jews. I was even on J Date for a while. A story for another time…)
So, the “P WORD.” It has bugged me for a kibijillion years, but I thought maybe I was alone on this one. No one else seemed all that upset about it’s abhorrent usage by people over the age of five. I’ve even heard feminists say it… with no tongue anywhere NEAR their collective cheek. So it was such a delight to finally have a smart lady in my corner. Read Sarah Fentem’s piece in The Atlantic Monthly: