Love's Labor Day lost

I've been told that "wtf" doesn't stand for "wait till Friday," but there's no authority I can consult on this. I remember when I was a teenager distinctly hearing from my Uncle Irvin that "t.g.i.f." meant "thank God it's Friday" and that "p.o.e.t.s" meant the same thing, more or less, only the phrase was less than clean. When I was in college George Carlin's "seven words" sketch was very popular, but I believe that several of his prohibited-from-broadcasting words are actually heard on a regular basis these days over satellite radio and cable TV. Several have apparently sunk into generally approved acceptance. As a former broadcaster, I had a code of conduct to which I adhered. I never wanted to say anything over the microphone that couldn't be heard by somone's grandmother as in good taste. Yes, I might drop a double entendre every now and then, but it was usually not done in bad taste. Comedians today take a different tack. Programs oftentimes have so many bleeps in them, it's hard to follow them. I can't understand why the people on Jerry Springer and Maury Povich's programs are allowed to say whatever they want with seemingly no repercussions. It's as if the syndication suits have determined as long as we have a machine to bleep out the profanity, let them say whatever comes into their puny little minds. I have always contended that vulgarity, profanity and obscenity are the byproducts of a poor vocabulary. Yet, why is it that today - Labor Day - do I feel like standing from the highest tower and shouting out w.t.f.? It's because a relationship I once treasured has changed forever today and I both mourn its passing and cheer its morphing into one of simple friendship. This is the apex of ambivalence and the nadir of nihilism. Perhaps it is a wonderful thing that Rosh Hashanah is only a few days away. It will be a new year and a new start to work on those things that are right in my life and release the ones that are not productive or might even be considered toxic.