You Don’t Know Jack

There is a certain two-word combination that good Christian folk don’t use in polite company because those words are considered to be curse words.  They really aren’t though. 

If you think they are, then you don’t know Jack.

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There are some words that are not used in civil society.  They are properly called curse words, although, where I’m from, they are usually called “cuss” words.  They were originally deemed curse words because, well, they were used to curse someone, such as when you told someone, “go to h—.”  Yes, you were condemning that person to eternal damnation. 

Hmmm, that reminds me of another one.

Other words, the ones that refer to bodily functions or physical acts got lumped in with curse words because they were corrupted forms of foreign language words and were thus considered vulgar.  Heck, some were considered vulgar even in their original language.

But then there is “Jack Ass.”

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I suppose Jack Ass got tossed in with cuss words because the second half sounds similar to the English word “arse” which refers to the, uh, south end of a north-bound, well…anything but I’ll say donkey.  In the Victorian era references to certain body parts was considered improper for “gentle-folk.”  It was OK to talk about “limbs,” but never to clarify that you were talking about arms or legs.  Same thing with “arse.”

In the afore-mentioned “Jack Ass” the second word reminds people of the English name for the south end of a north bound donkey, but the first word only indicates the animal itself.  In point of fact, the combination Jack Ass would be properly written “Jack ass” and refers to a male donkey, which is a member of the horse family, called asses (Equus africanus asinus). 

A male donkey is called a Jack and a female is a Jenny.

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Now, I’ve owned a couple donkeys, and both were Jacks.  A lady gave Annie and me five Nigerian Pigmy goats once and, when we went by to pick them up, she offered to give us a Sicilian donkey too.  His name was Sarge.  Our boys called him Donkey Sarge.

Another time, someone offered us another Sicilian donkey.  This one was named Tab.  Yes, he became Donkey Tab.

We had the two donkeys at different times.  They looked and acted alike though…so much alike, in fact, that I confuse them in my memory.

Both of the donkeys were friendly and loving.  Anytime I would go out into their pasture to do some work, whichever one we had at the time would stay right with me the whole time. 

By “right with me” I mean “RIGHT with me.”  One time I was working on the pasture fence.  It was a hot, humid day so I worked with my shirt off.  Sweat dripped from my body.  Donkey Tab was the Sicilian we had then.  Whenever I would stop for a few minutes to drive a post or attach a wire or whatever; if I was standing relatively still, Tab would rest his chin on my shoulder and moan like a lovelorn junior high school boy.  Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t in love with me.  At least I don’t think he was.  No, I HOPE he wasn’t.

Anyway, each of the donkeys was so friendly and loving that whichever one we had at the time wanted to be as close to us as possible. But there was a limit to their friendliness.

You see, donkeys have a reputation for being stubborn, and there’s a good reason for that.  It’s because they ARE stubborn.

Say I wanted to move Donkey Sarge from one pen to another.  I could put some grain in a bucket and tempt him with it.  He’d follow me anywhere as long as he wanted that grain.  I could clip a lead-rope onto his halter and lead him too, IF he thought he wanted to go where I wanted him to go.  If I wanted to move him to fresh pasture and he could see or smell the green grass, he would walk quietly along on the end of the lead.  However, if he thought I was taking him OFF the green pasture or putting him into a small pen, he would shove his feet forward and lean back.

When a donkey sets his feet and leans back, you can drag him across the ground (if you are strong enough) until the hooves dig in and no force on heaven or earth can move him…until he decides he wants to move.

It is because of that single-mindedness of purpose that the words Jack Ass came to mean, stubborn.  It’s not any form of curse or refer directly to any “forbidden body part.”  However, because it kind of sounds like it does, people now think it is cussing to call someone that.

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My mother was a good, God-fearing woman.  I may have heard her cuss a dozen times in my life.  I mean actually cuss.

Especially in his later years, when Dad’s hearing deteriorated to the point that he couldn’t always hear what she said, Mom would sometimes get frustrated enough at him to mutter, “Jack Ass.”

This tendency led to an interesting situation one day.  You see, we moved back to Malden after Mom and Dad had retired and five of our six boys were in school.  Mom and Dad offered to keep Patrick, our youngest, while Annie and I worked.

Needless to say, Patrick learned a lot in his time with my parents, most of it good…but not all.

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One Sunday at church (at CHURCH – remember that), as brothers do, one of the older boys was pestering Patrick.  When he’d had enough, Patrick said loudly, “Jack Ass!”

If you thought the sanctuary was quiet before, it got even quieter then.  You could have heard a pin drop.

Mom quickly went into damage control mode.  “Patrick,” she scolded.  “You don’t say that.”

All wide-eyed innocence, Patrick said, “But YOU do Gran.”

Church wasn’t so quiet after that.

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So, you see, even though Mom used the term to mean that Dad was stubborn or bull-headed, she still knew it wasn’t an expression expected to hear in church.

Not everyone uses Jack Ass to mean stubborn.  Many people nowadays  just assume that the phrase is a coarser form of “jerk.” 

But is it always?

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I previously wrote about “walks into a bar” jokes.  Well, here’s another one.

A stranger walks into a bar and asks the bartender for a drink.  The barkeep quietly gives him one.

As the stranger stands there wetting his whistle, a regular customer at the end of the bar shouts, “Hey, Jack-Ass, give me a drink!”

The barkeep slides the man a beer, frowns and, without saying a word, goes on about his job.

After a bit, the abrasive customer yells again, “Hey, Jack-Ass, give me a drink!”

The bartender raises and eyebrow then silently fills the order again.

Moments later, the caustic customer calls again, “Hey, Jack-Ass, give me a drink!”

The man behind the bar does as he’s told.

The stranger is getting irritated and motions the bartender over.  He asks, “Why are you letting that guy call you Jack-Ass?”

The barman answers in a very nasal voice, “A-aw-he,  a-aw-he, a-aw-he always calls me tha-at.”

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If you don’t find that funny, maybe you really don’t know Jack.

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