Getting worked up works up an appetite

I grew up in a diverse family where loud arguments preceding Sunday dinner raged until the soup was served and the appreciation of the palate trumped the debate, be it political, prices, sports teams, or the best fishing lures. 

For me such friendly but bombastic conflict normal and had to learn the hard lesson when entering the US workplace where Anglo values were in charge that it was totally unacceptable. I had to learn to "control my temper" instead of enjoy it. Even worse it was a Jurassic time when political correctness only existed in the Soviet Union, and our mixed family gatherings were spiced with terms of affection between best friends and brothers-in-law like, "You dumb dago!" "You knuckle-headed kraut!" etc.

Maybe it was a working class thing, too... Now it seems that conversations seasoned with profanity can only be found on the White House tapes of certain recent presidents.