The Perils of Childhood
Megan McArdle argues that today’s “spanking-free” childrearing systems have been purchased at the cost of regimenting childhood. In place of “management by exception” where transgressions were punished by blow to the seat of the pants, children are now watched, rewarded or subtly discouraged until “they are quite old”. But whether this is an improvement is open to debate. As we are now learning today’s “organization kids” have problems of their own.
My grandmother literally never worked outside the home a day in her life. But she would have been bewildered by the intensive parenting of today’s “stay at home Moms”. When my mother got home from school, my grandmother gave her a cookie and told her to go outside and play. She was not supposed to come back until dinner–rain or shine, sleet or snow…
To be sure, my mother was actually quite well watched–by all the other mothers on the block. But while you could be quite sure that an adult would report it if they saw your kid doing something really wrong, it’s much less likely that they’re going to tell you that Sally deserves her tidyness gold star for the afternoon because she threw her litter in the garbage can.
All that monitoring and incentivizing probably is better at turning out kids who are able to successfully negotiate the hierarchical American university system. But crotchety as I am, I find it sort of creepy–and anecdotally, as the first generation of what David Brooks calls “Organization Kids” enters the workforce, employers are apparently complaining that they have an outsized sense of entitlement combined with a difficulty coping with unstructured tasks. Obviously, I’m not advocating a return to an era of brutal beatings. But I’d like to think that there’s some alternative to raising children in a sort of well-padded, benevolent police state where no action is too small or large that it can’t be managed with an appropriately placed gold star.
The young have long explored the world in feckless ways. Because if they didn’t — at least to a certain extent — they wouldn’t be young. Moreover they would never have learned to cope with the real risks and dangers in it in order ready themselves when their time for leadership came. Not every kid made it through, but traditional societies were resigned to paying the price and large broods were compensations for the wastage.
Today the watchword is to take no chances. Whatever benefit came from climbing trees unsupervised was far outweighed by the crushing legal penalties that would descend on the nearest adult if such an unspeakable thing were allowed to happen. The application of health and safety rules in Britain resulted in one case of the removal of every apparatus — the slide, swing and rocking horse were all carted away — leaving only a plastic motorcycle scooter in the playground moored to a block of concrete, probably pending the analysis of its paint, after which it too may be removed.
Is that progress? Some think so, although McArdle has her doubts.
Doubtless the spanking vs non-spanking stereotypes that McArdle describes applies only a certain strata of society. As others have observed, in many inner city contexts, the “gold star for tidiness” counts for little in what has been called a public-school-to-prison pipeline. In that unionized system where teachers cannot risk disciplining the kids, there are “more police in America’s schools.”
A survey by the Justice Police Institute released last month found a 37 percent increase in the number of law enforcement personnel (called school resource officers, or SROs) employed by public schools between 1997 and 2007, including more than 5,000 such officers in New York City schools alone. The increase in SROs, also driven by federal funding, was in part influenced by media-driven hysteria over a few highly publicized school shootings in the 1990s.
There have also been a number of stories in the news of late about pre-adolescent children arrested for absurdly minor offenses, including a 6-year-old Wisconsin boy arrested for “playing doctor” with a 5-year-old girl, a 12-year-old arrested in Memphis for not wearing his helmet at a skateboard park, a 13-year-old boy arrested in New Mexico for burping in gym class (his parents’ lawsuit also revealed the arrest of a 7-year-old girl who refused “to sit next to the stinky boy” in class), a 10-year-old Connecticut boy arrested for giving a classmate a “wedgie,” and a 5-year-old who was bound at the wrists and ankles, arrested and charged with assault after kicking a police officer in the leg.
Taken together, these studies and anecdotes suggest a troubling trend of putting kids in handcuffs for doing the sorts of things kids have always done. This has spurred concern over a burgeoning “school-to-prison pipeline” problem in which children — particularly poor, minority and at-risk children –are funneled from public schools into the criminal justice system. In response, the Justice Department and the Department of Education launched a joint initiative last July that aims to combat this trend. …
All of these programs were enacted in the name of protecting children. But without the tools to assess their actual impact, it’s impossible determine whether they are actually working, or doing more harm than good.
It seems like a bad bargain. The benefits of of turning childhood into a junior version of a modern PC university comes at a price. You can do away with spanking, but only by putting surveillance cameras and databases everywhere. You can strip teachers of the power to rap the students on the knuckles with a ruler, but only if you put a precinct house in every schoolyard.
Perhaps our parents and grandparents were right: there is no free lunch. With the freedom the climb trees and explore the local swimming hole came danger; a danger we can no longer countenance. But our precautions have not banished risk, only shifted it to other forms. Try as we might to amend it, the earth remains a perilous place.
Recently I heard the sad news that my wife’s friend had lost her son in a swimming accident off a beach. He had been scheduled to graduate from college next year. I said, “it makes a parent want to die; to follow as quickly as possible to wherever his son has gone.” Then I added after a silence, “but the young have always been careless of their lives. It comes with the turf. As you get older you look back and marvel at how stupid and feckless you were. But is there any other way?”
Maybe not.
As each of us gathers for Christmas, sets the table and puts presents under the tree, our celebrations are always informed by the unstated realization that this occasion might our last together. That can’t be helped. But that irremovable cloud, that fact of the human condition should not dampen our time together so much as enrich it. Our time with those we love is truly a gift. Risk will always be with us. The chance to show our love, by contrast, may not always be there.
To live is a dangerous thing. The universe is a mysterious place. Maybe there’s a present in it for us somewhere, but we’ll have to look to see. There’s an old chestnut that is sometimes told.
A man fell off a mountain and, as he fell, saw a branch and grabbed for it. By superhuman effort he was able to get a precarious grip on it. As he was hanging there for dear life, he looked up and cried out, “Is anybody there?”
A deep majestic voice answered, “Yes my son, I am here. What do you need?”
“Help me!” cried the man.
“I will help you”, said the voice, “Just let go of the branch and you’ll be safe. All you have to do is trust.”
The man thought for a moment and cried out:
“Anybody ELSE up there?”
Merry Christmas, everybody.
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“When my mother got home from school, my grandmother gave her a cookie and told her to go outside and play. She was not supposed to come back until dinner–rain or shine, sleet or snow…”
One of my cherished pictures of my mom and my dad shows them standing with their .22’s after school for an afternoon of squirrel hunting.
As kids our parents would drag us along on weekends to their adult friend’s house and we’d play with their kids and bunk out while the adults drank, smoked and engaged in adult conversation. When the lot of us kids began rough housing a bit too much all that my dad had to do was snap his fingers and we’d freeze in place. That was all it took. You don’t have to be spanked or whipped with a belt too often to “get it”.
The problem nowadays is that all American women are already married to the state. Any third party marriage between a man and a woman is likely to be undermined by the primary relationship between the state that promises inducements for getting divorced and taking the kids from the sperm donor. Once the patriarchal relationship is destroyed then the lesson is lost too because there is no longer unanimous consent. I remember swatting my 5 year old step daughter on the back of the leg for being disruptive and keeping the whole house up for three hours with jumping into her sisters bed and laughing hysterically past 11:00pm at night on a weekday. After she started to cry my wife immediately coddled her and told her that I was wrong to do that. I divorced her 3 months later. Now I am a lone wolf. I don’t care what peoples kids do but when they get older and mouth off to me I may well knock their teeth out. Something their parents should have taught them should be to beware of strangers, especially non-organizational men.
I am spending the holidays with my family and enjoying it. My mom is starting to lose some of her cognitive skills. 95% spang on though. I am living like it is our last time together.
Merry Christmas!
What happens to “organization kids” when the regimented PC world they are raised in and for goes away?
Can “organization kids” ever compete successfully with “non-organization” kids in any environment?
I’m guessing there are several billion “non-organization” kids around the world. Why won’t they clean the clocks of the “organization kids” once they get into the same ring with each other?
Where are the “non-organization” kids located? It seems to me that “non-organization” kids raised in countries or regions that have decent educational and legal systems plus a half-assed decent economy will be able to out-compete anybody. They would be the ones that I would look to hire and the ones I would recruit as immigrants to Western Canada.
Does anyone have any ideas about where these highly competitive achievers of the future might be located? Ontario and California have already been rejected as possible locations.
I raised 3 boys. Spanked each of them once, just so they knew I could and would. I never saw the point in proving that a 6’1 240 Lb weight-lifter could abuse a 4’2 60 Lb boy more then once. Once was all it took.
Richard writes too damn fast – i know others have commented on this –
perhaps he has help – if not – remarkable
i wanted to add this twaddle re: the NK thread of some few minutes ago which has already gone quiet —
I’m going to claim this is on topic under his present blog assertion ‘ The universe is a mysterious place.”
———————————————– on the norks, and perhaps everything else –
perhaps it helps to look at the Earth from a meta-scale – in Time and political evolution
on the big=picture scale, nk is not important, it is a branch of ChiCom, useful to them, which is why it exists – not useful to anyone else.
if one envisions the thousands of years of organic political thought – it is , or seems, fairly simple , over vast periods of time –
we are moving from tribal – central authoritarianism, – towards an individual one —
not individual in any sort of anarchist, or even Libertarian, as we conceive of them now – but something akin to a Representative Republic – of which the Earth has not , or very little, experience or Historical record to model —
We are the test-dummies — injuries can be expected – we will learn from them – and move forward.
that we have only begun that inevitable transition, and are thus stuck in our life times in it’s early transition – an inevitable transition imho – is our tough luck —
and – may a Merry Christmas be had by all -
subtly …
uh-huh.
I don’t buy much in the McArdle article, actually, but is Christmas Eve really the time to rant about it? I think not. Today especially all children’s behavior is in Santa’s hands.
don’t shoot me santa claus
The only way ‘the state’ can hope to guarantee the safety of a man is to stick him in solitary confinement, in a padded cell, under constant observation.
Richard writes too damn fast – i know others have commented on this –
perhaps he has help – if not – remarkable
I do get help — lots of it — but not of the writing kind. The help comes in the form of links or pointers sent to me by a bunch of from commenters. I should like to thank each and every one of the people who have helped me; and two commenters in particular who have sent me more links than I can every repay them for.
But the bulk of pointer help comes via institutions who have me down in their databases as a “Jewish leader”, an “immigration activist”, a supporter for the Free Bradley Manning Movment, a Tea Party activist, a Russian affairs expert, a Middle East watcher, etc etc.
I get emails in Arabic, Hebrew, Korean, Chinese and Thai. There are other unicode scripts I can’t even recognize. One day I will spend a week trying to figure out who or what each of these institutions actually think I am; though it may turn to be impossible to straighten out.
We live in a world of online identities, where you are what the entry in the database says or the person believes about you because nobody has actually met you. I was on a radio program not long ago and the host, who was in a Mountain Time Zone state, said to me, “are you really calling from Sydney Australia?” “Yes,” I said. “Then give me a call when you fly back home.”
What do you say to that? It is too damn complicated to explain. You have to go back to the beginning and at some point, even that is unclear.
I’m going to make the argument that in a real sense, I am not really the author of this site even if every word on it (except when Tigerhawk is guest blogging or Leo is sending a letter) is self-composed (or suggested by my wife). It is more like a content system in which I may play a leading part, but really the outcome of a variety of inputs. You can see this for yourself.
Its character changes markedly with the change and shift of commenters; and in the composition of those who “help me”. I often tell bloggers this: “the blog is more than the post. By volume the comments dwarf the content of the post.” Newspaper pundits have a hard time understanding that blogging requires more than writing; it requires community building skills.
Thanks for all the help guys and Merry Christmas.
A friend of mine was contrasting the world of today comapred to when he gew up in a small town in eastern Washington.
A friend of his and he would run all over town “playing army”, together carrying a real WWII vintage M-1 Carbine, which had its barrel plugged to make it suitable for a kid’s toy. Their parents knew not where they were fighting their battles and only expected them to show up around dinner time
Today the disappearance of two young boys for even a few hours would cause panic among their parents. The fact that they were carrying a firearm that might be capable of chambering a round would cause a national alert that would demand a fierce response from DHS. Kids have been sent home for showing up a school with toy soldiers that bore guns or drawing pictures of men carrying rifles.
Heres’ one for you that may illustrate the real problem:
A man sits down with his teenaged son one day and says, “Now, Johnny, you are going to be starting school at a big city high school tomorrow. It’s not like the high school in the little town where we moved from. There may be cliques there who don’t get along with one another, or even gangs. It’s okay to have friends, but you want to stay away from conflicts. If anyone asks you about anything that happens like that it’s best to just say that you were not there, did not see it and were not involved.”
A few weeks later Johnny is in class and a teacher says, “Let’s see how much you kids know about history. Johnny, can you tell me who shot Ronald Reagan?”
Johnny replies, “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. I didn’t see anything. I wasn’t involved.”
The teacher says, “That’s not a good answer young man! Don’t get smart with me! Now I want you to go see the principle and see if he can adjust your attitude.”
Johnny goes to see the principle, and is asked the same question. He gives the principle the same response. The principle says, “I am going to call your parents so they can take you home where you can reconsider your answer for a few days.”
His father comes to pick up Johnny and on the way home in the car his dad asks what happened to get him kicked out of school. Johnny explains that he did what his dad had told him, explaining what he was asked and what he told the teacher and the principle, saying finally, “I don’t even know of any kid named Ronald Reagan at our school. I did not even know anybody got shot.”
His dad shook his head and said, “Nice going son. You did the right thing. You know, when I was about your age they started grilling me about who popped some kid named Kennedy.”
Wretchard, maybe you can have Mrs. Wretchard guest post a blog for us sometime (she may have already for all we know)?
Merry Christmas and God bless you all,
Steeple
She’s right that kids are way too coddled. The biggest problem we have with teaching kids to sail is the helicopter parents who get jealous of their offspring having so much fun! http://tinyurl.com/76hrdyy The kids are great! And with careful guidance to enhance their self CONFIDENCE rather than their self ESTEEM they thrive. We have kids sailing all around the harbor and lake with just a few safety boats manned by expert adults to watch and enCOURAGE.
COURAGE BEING THE MOST IMPORTANT VIRTUE.
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, SANTA IS COMING TO TOWN!!!
We used to tisk and say, “how awful, babies raising babies.”
Except…
My great g’ma married at 16 and had 13 kids by the time she was 30, raising them on a prairie homestead. Three died; two of disease, one drowned in a stock tank. The rest lived long, successful lives, were fruitful, multiplied. Do you imagine those kids weren’t spanked, or that the grief for the lost was somehow not profound?
Now we have mature idiots and moronic villages raising children.
Tell me again how this is better?
Those of us of a certain age look back fondly at the times when we were kids and diced with death and won. It may be the dicing was not quite as devil daring as we now imagine it to have been. I remember, acquiring the ripe old age of 14, going back to the old neighborhood and finding the enormously tall tree I climbed when I was six and finding it somewhat less than I remembered.
When I think of my youthful days
And of the very many ways
I diced with danger, laughing all the while
Today when I am gray and old
I find that I am less than bold
And pleased that carefulness is now my style
I climbed tall trees and billboards too
I truly did enjoy the view
Up high where eagles soared and called my name
But what at six seemed fearsome height
In retrospect it almost might
Seem not so far from ground and less than tame
http://www.chicagomag.com/core/pagetools.php?url=%2FChicago-Magazine%2FJanuary-2012%2FGangs-and-Politicians-An-Unholy-Alliance%2F&mode=print
Wretchard, you gotta read this, apparently Chicago where The Dark Knight was filmed and Obama cut his teeth has a lot more similarities to the celluloid Gotham City (including The Dark Knight Rises) than people knew. Note the trailer for the new film in which Batman confronts Bain features prisoners getting tossed AKs, prisoners chanting ‘rise, rise’ in some southeast Asian locale, and thug mobs looting the houses of the wealthy. Some conservative film critics said TDK was an allegory of the war on terrorism with the Joker representing the bad guys and the increasingly desperate Commissioner, Harvey Dent and Batman representing the lines the good guys must cross to get the job done. Now what does this zeitgeist represent? Is this psychological preparation for the coming disorder Global Guerillas’ John Robb warns about or simply entertainment reflecting the times?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yh6SriAjdE
TDKR trailer #2 “There’s a storm coming Mr. Wayne…”
And what happens if everything, from the lowest level street sweeping and small construction work in Chicago, up to the mega deals of arms contracts and oil pipelines — involve some gang member getting their cut? In some sense, you could say that Goldman Sachs and JP Morgan are the alpha gangs of the System, and these guys are the lower level hoods.
End of thread for me.
I probably should add this comment. Where do you think Navy SEALS come from? Our kids are little angels, but they also would fit right in with an organization whose motto is “No better friend, no worse enemy”. In fact in among the kids who went off to college or became nannies or got real jobs etc there is one who became a Navy SEAL medic among the Marine Special Forces in Afghanistan. Another worked for the Salvation Army. As I said before “It’s easier to make friends than to make enemies”. Be careful which you choose!!!
Mr X – Don’t you worry about those Chicago pols. Take down Obama and his past chief of staff Rahm Emanuel and things will change for the better really quick. Did I mention how the New York Times(!!) ran the story with the inside details of how the White House aborted the top kill operation BP was running on the Day of Infamy May 27, 2010? Obama’s comeuppance is coming fast!
The Left talks about “community” and “society” but in fact destroys both. What they do is Administer a mass of atomized individuals. What wretchard does in building this blog is something much harder, Management.
I think that this sort of parenting is a consequence of loss of faith. McArdle’s grandmother could send her child out into the neighborhood and world secure in the knowledge that God would be protecting her child, and if something were to happen, it was God’s will. It was God’s way, and everything was part of His plan.
But what if you really start to believe that there is no God? Why then, there is no one — nothing protecting your child. It’s all up to you. Every second of the day. Every danger weighs on you. If the whole world has no plan, no purpose, then of course you have to protect your child against and and every danger, no matter how slight. You have to watch them every second of the day. Get rid of the playground equipment. Watch everything they do. Control everything they eat. Because with no God, no plan, it’s all on you.
Faithless people consider themselves happier and better off, but the way they are forced to live their lives as a consequence betrays them.
I’ve got two sons and 4 nieces who live nearby. The biggest difference in their childhoods and mine has been the lack of outdoor activity in the neighborhood. When I was a boy all of us yoots lived that life where you went outside to play and didn’t come home till dinner. That kind of thing is simply unheard of anymore. It used to be no problem having a pick-up game of baseball or football. It was no problem at all rounding up 10-20. The only way any sports happen for kids around here anymore comes through the organized leagues. If the parent can’t or won’t commit to a league schedule and attending all the games, his or her kid simply can’t play sports outside of gym class in school. Our neighborhood’s big field is right outside my house, and when I moved in I thought it would be nice to be near the scene of all the action for the neighborhood games. After 15 years I can probably count the number of games held out there on my fingers. I rarely see any kids playing outside at all, unless they are jungle-gym aged and out there with their moms. It is annoying; I’ve kicked my sons off the Xbox and told them to go outside and do something, only to look out the window and see them standing there, looking around like they’re wondering what they are supposed to do.
Bicycles were a big deal when I was a kid, too, and we used to ride far and wide all over town. Our bicycles meant freedom to us, and we spent countless hours on them just exploring new places. The kids these days have to operate within very constrained boundaries, real small little areas where they can ride. They don’t even have big ranks of bike racks at the schools anymore, because they don’t want you riding your bike to school. To may liabilities, I assume. You’ve got to get a waiver, in fact, to NOT ride the bus, even if the school is within easy walking distance. After school activities, then, again involve a logistical problem that draw in the abailities and willingness of parents.
There are no latch-key kids around here that I know of. If there were, their parents would no doubt have to face a lot of shocked and disapproving fellows. “How can you allow your kids to do things like this these days?” It smacks of high irresponsibility, of reckless disregard for child safety.
The big guns are out for the rural kids, too. Right now they are devising a new slate of child labor regulations that will serve to play havoc on our remaining family farms, which are likened in the beaurocratic mind to slave labor camps. I read that childhood injuries on American family farms, already a low number, has plunged 60% over the past two years. But regulators must regulate, even if it’s not logically called for. Perhaps things like a plunging child injury rate even goads them into action, to jump on a trend to which they can they credit to their effectiveness. Childhood is bounded so much in the cities and the burbs, they must think time is overdue to crack down on all the country yokels. The ones who don’t know how to raise their kids – despite the fact that they’ve been doing it somehow anyway for generation upon generation.
to 16. jms
”Faithless people consider themselves happier and better off, but the way they are forced to live their lives as a consequence betrays them.”
: http://www.foxnews.com/us/2011/12/23/police-4-arrested-in-georgia-in-mad-dash-for-air-jordans/?test=latestnews
SF
PS. and Merry Christmas to all !
re# 7
thanks for that explanation – I’m sure many other readers will appreciate it too –
having grown up in a Newspaper family – family owned, pre-computers and internet – I understand the complexity that evolves to support the – relative – simplicity that the general public sees – it was quite exciting to be there, and be a small part of that wide-awake dynamic that made up the news room, as well as the very impressive linotype room and the huge rolling press room –
all gone now, mores the pity – i miss the crazy clatter of a roomful of mechanical typewriters – the smells of hot lead, ink, paper and cardboard – and the rush of copy-boys carrying them to the next step – the whoosh of vacuum tube deliveries –
- but the brains are still there / here – as is the news and commentary -
the evolution from the very complex physical plant that was required in those days – to this electronic version, is extremely interesting to me — it is truly a revolution in the – reporting / editorial Art — i perceive that you have made some significant progress in this – and although you are still trying to figure out how to make it work, for yourself and partners of all kinds – as well as the readers – you are doing just that –
Thank you for what you all are doing – keep doing it — there are few things more exciting than – the news — in all it’s ramifications – and influence –
ethics – truth – these are important, perhaps the most important -
steady hand on the tiller mate – navigators are not often appreciated – but they are the ones who chart our course -
#2 Western Canadian. Georgia (former USSR). I now have a number of young, hard working, intelligent non-organization Georgian kids (sorry Mr X) working for me now. All the right qualities. In fact, one of my best is now trying, with difficulty, to emigrate to Canada. I would hire any one again in a heartbeat. I suspect that other former USSR satellites would also be suitable.
I don’t post often but I consider you friends.
Merry Christmas to you all.
I think you walked right across the answer: how many kids? and antibiotics. and how many other kids? If you have a supposed excess, and can’t really control them inside, eh….go play outside. And social standards. All the mothers have to agree that kids outside is safe. One who disagrees can call CPS on you.
Now? Two kids versus ten? When do you start having those kids? Can you replace them? You aren’t remembering the women paralyzed by grief, or the freakishly neurotic, who saw their own dead siblings. There was more death, closer. You’re from the survivors.
It’s little things- even like cars not expecting kids on bikes. The last kid on a bike we saw in the neighborhood had been hit, and thrown from his bike at an intersection, b/c the car didn’t expect to see a kid on a bike. My kids haven’t even tried to ride, since then. I haven’t encouraged them to try, either. There are houses with multiple kids, and people who drive through as if all houses are empty in the afternoon, and that no kid would play basketball in the street. It’s a safe assumption- there are streets with no kids.
It’s safe to walk in neighborhoods with pedestrians- like a college neighborhood. In a regular neighborhood, a driver might see you, and not compute that they might not want to hit you. The same with kids. People in Salt Lake City seem to drive more carefully than other cities. I’m guessing b/c they do expect children, unlike most other cities.
Parents aren’t being stupid. They are reacting to an environment that doesn’t account for small children, for one, and for another- isn’t particularly safe. Think about it- if you do anything that someone disagrees with–CPS gets a call. The first thing they tell you is that they can take the kid without due process. Very few lawyers touch these cases. Would you trust that a stranger wouldn’t call you in, if you have a glass of wine at a party with children around? I’ve been to parties with kids, parents, soda pops, water and beer. I’ve also read articles in the newspaper about CPS workers investigating parents for having a glass of wine at a party with children around. Not- a sloppy drunk falling down mother. A woman having a single glass of wine. That’s east german secret-file crazy-making.
Parents are doing the best they can in a high-pressure environment.
re: #20
and there it goes – there are people everywhere who do care – and try – often at some considerable risk – it seems -that what we -many of us – want is an – organized risk –
which, is what our Constitution formated – a nation of Laws, not men –
equality of opportunity, not result – the weak may well fail, and the successful don’t –
the successful, if their personalities allow, may help the weak, but are not under a forced obligation to do so –
it is a trust – in humans better Nature — we are going there – we are just beginning to go there, but – we are going there
messy maybe – but it can work in the sense – of – - hmm – we know now what doesn’t work – we can’t get to an ideal – we can have this functional human-nature based – equal opportunity / government of laws – not men – recognition that failure will happen / recognition that crime will happen – but also the recognition that we can, as a whole, in a political evolutionary sense – and reality – progress from the Historically basic – strong-man-tribal politic – to an — words fail me – equality of opportunity – but probably not of result – due to human individual nature —
perhaps some of the more erudite can help me/us out with this general concept – it’s pretty basic – i lack the smarts to round it up —
plus it’s late, and the wine is flowing – and i’m me – warts and all.
Christmas Eve was spent going to mass and then dinner at home which consisted of exactly two dishes, which we cooked as soon as we got back. Each took a half hour and since they ran concurrently, took about 45 minutes total.
The first went like this: heat some olive oil to which you add about four cloves of garlic, finely chopped. Then add in about 1 pound (half kilo) of shelled raw shrimp and stir till the shrimp are just done. Remove the shrimp and add about 1/3 of a cup of cream to the garlic and oil. Stir. Add in a freshly cooked half packet (1/2 pound) of boiled spaghetti to the garlic-cream mix and return the shrimp. Add lots of fresh dill to the pasta and stir, seasoning with salt and freshly ground pepper. That’s dish one.
Now a word about the pepper. Buy whole peppercorns and invest in a small mortar and pestle. Whenever you want pepper, pour two dozen peppercorns or so into the mortar and roll the pestle over them applying the appropriate force. That’ll pulverize the peppercorns real good. Then pinch the ground up peppercorns and drizzle it over whatever dish you’re making.
The second dish goes like this. Preheat an oven to about 350 F. To a pound of salmon steaks add olive oil, a fair amount of salt and abovementioned pepper. Massage until the steaks are evenly coated with salt and pepper loosely bound up in the oil.
Lay the salmon steaks on a roasting pan with an elevated rack. Add any extra fresh dill you may have on top of the salmon. Stick it in the preheated oven for about 35 minutes.
Serves three, maybe four.
Serve with half a bottle of white wine (if in funds) or Coca-cola if you are scraping the bottom of the barrel. Actually the Coca-cola probably goes better with the food than the wine. If consuming the wine, make sure to lift pinky while drinking same to trick oneself into thinking one is living the life of Reilly. Imagine you are floating down some river in a boat of your own.
Also make sure to apply a fancy name to the food. Pasta with prawns and cream. Grilled salmon au dill. Not au shucks. Wine to accompany. (If serving Coca-cola call it limonade gazeuse). A little self-deception goes a long way.
And you don’t have to eat big portions. One serve of the salmon and pasta is more than enough.
And that’s it. For desert, some fresh fruit if desired. Maybe some cherries, a half mango or peach each. Otherwise skip dessert and finish wine mentioned above. The drunker you get, the less you care and anyway, less is more. And the food while relatively light is really pretty good. It’s lifting the pinky while drinking the wine that does the trick.
Some Christmas songs suitable for Russian carollers
Donna Fargo – You Can’t be a Beacon if Your Light Don’t Shine http://tinyurl.com/7p6o48u
Young Rascals – People Got to be Free http://tinyurl.com/76oa2e9
Time to tell Helicopter Dad Putin, “Please Dad I’d rather do it myself!!!”
To my recollection, the change in the way kids were allowed to play took place over the decade of the 1960s. The reason was the skyrocketing crime rates. Thanks to do-gooder Liberalism along with the general societal and intellectual upheaval (a good deal of it driven by the KGB), crime went from “that happens in other neighborhoods” to “that can happen here and it threatens my kids.”
The jumps were truly alarming. Look at the differences in numbers between 1960 and 1970.
Violent crimes: 288K to 738K
Robbery: 107K to 349K
Burglary: 912K to 2.2M
Larceny theft: 1.8M to 4.2M
(Stats here: http://www.disastercenter.com/crime/uscrime.htm )
The rates really started escalating in the mid-60s and continued on up through the 90s.
I recall myself growing up in NYC that we went from not really worrying about locking the door to multiple locks on the door and bars on the basement windows and back door. Why? A wave of burglaries in the neighborhood. You didn’t just feel threatened, you were threatened.
We kids still played out in the back alleyway and in the park (across the street from my house), but you didn’t venture much further than that, and you kept your eyes open for trouble. Prior to this new mentality, I would go with my cousin to LaGuardia Airport (we were about 10 years old) to run around the terminals and sneak into the observation deck (long gone) by slipping under the turnstiles (who had a quarter?). I think back and imagine my own kids at 10 years old — in the mid 90s — and how such a thing would be unthinkable. Yet I ran around at the airport without a worry in the world (other than getting pinched for sneaking in).
These fearful mentalities became hardened and the next generation of kids grew up without any of the freedoms I had enjoyed. As those kids became parents they kept to these ways, even though crime has dropped considerably in many places.
But then, the drops are relative. One example for larceny-theft:
1960: 1.8M
Peak year 1991: 8.1M
2010: 6.1M
So we’ve dropped a lot from 1991, but nowhere even close to what it was in 1960. All the numbers are similar, hugely higher in every category today than before the Left did it’s filthy work.
Very simply, the world is a far more dangerous place and this impacts people even if they live in nearly crime-free suburbs.
“Thanks for all the help guys and Merry Christmas.”
Thank you sir! Pinky up!
I threw a frozen turkey into my moms’ bathtub last night. If that cat doesn’t mess with it it should be nice and thawed in time toss in the oven around 9:00am. I’ll baste it with olive oil and stuff it with Miss Cubison’s, chest nuts, and giblets. Just the smell is worth it and I’ll be in sandwiches for a couple of weeks after I freeze half the breast meat. After stripping the carcass I’ll boil it for a base and add frozen vegetables, egg noodles and spices for soup. This time of the year turkeys are the cheapest meal around.
In the mid 60’s my father was astonished bringing the family back from a week at Lake Arrowhead to find the house locked. After breaking in a side a window he saw a note on the table along with a pile of newspapers. The note said that the police noticed the extra newspapers in the driveway and found the front door unlocked. They locked it courtesy of Police Department. My dad recalls, I never did have a key for that house.
@#17, ah yes, I remember them well. If there weren’t enough of us to get a game of football going then we would pass the football around for a few hours amidst carrying on conversations and cracking jokes. There was a Recreation Center within walking distance from my house where there were definitely basketball games to form. Two main courts with eight goals each and no shortage of people wanting to play. I think they’ve strung up volleyball nets like border patrol to make sure no basketball gets played now, and the last time I ever went there I noticed that basketball could or would only be played there in some sort of an official capacity in scheduled games.
On the surface, basketball or football games like that solved the problem of overcoming boredom, but they also offered the focus of channeling all that youthful energy combined with the self satisfaction that came with dribbling the ball and scoring a hoop. If I didn’t do so well, I figured I’d keep at it and I’d get better at it, and I did. The Rec Center meant that basketball was chosen when the weather wasn’t favorable and football when there was a beautiful autumn or winter day outside. It was just that simple. Many an awful cold and windy day was spent indoors with hoops drenched in sweat, and a quick run home once it was over. I was much better at catching passes than hoops but either one was great time spent.
A little more than one hundred years ago, the average lifespan was forty five years. Sure, some died much later, and many died much younger but the average was forty five. Families were as likely to lose one or some of their children to pneumonia, typhoid, whooping cough, typhus, childbirth, tuberculosis, etc as to accidents. I’m sure the anguish was as great either way, but seeing a child healthy one day become a child at death’s door in a matter of hours from the mystery of lethal infection probably sent the message to families that mother nature tended to play with the winning hand.
If mom spent the afternoon preparing dinner, it was also as likely that elder siblings were more or less forced into the role of outsourced parent and looked after the younger ones. That was a social structure. Older siblings would have far more of a vested personal interest in their siblings than some career child police person who gets to call it a day ever would.
Mozart died at 35, but that was the average lifespan of that time. It’s been determined that he probably died of food poisoning, all his children were already dead, most likely from impoverished conditions, and he’d spent his career seeking royal patronage and was something of a child prodigy has-been by the time people learned of his death. But his last two works, an opera and a Requiem were commissioned in the form of what the Left would only describe as a more bourgeois “free agent” composer situation. A situation that would also describe the more “free agent” composer status that those composers who followed him had as an option to themselves. Which is preferable? And today, what sort of pseudo-royal patronage picks the winners and losers in art when managed by the state?
I bring this up because embedded deep in the grandiose pretensions of top down state social engineering is their steadfast belief that the perfection of their role in raising children will bring forth the conditions that will produce Mozarts by the dozen.
They say that those who can, do. And those who can’t, teach.
…and that those who can’t teach, teach gym.
And those who can’t do a goldern thing well at all become public school administrators. There are roughly twelve administrators for every teacher in public schools today. And when budgets get cut, it’s the teachers who value time with students above political jockeying for position who get the axe first, not administrators. The object is to submit to the will of someone higher with more power. The right people for the job are consigned to oblivion. Just like Stalin’s ‘loyalty or death’ structure. Everything about the Left is about conformity and corruption, despite how they lie and what they deceive to cover it all up.
Merry Christmas Mister Potter!
Kim du Toit properly termed it the “Pussification of America”. Our obituary will read that we were the first culture to die from an eighty year bout of political correctness complicated by a failed public education system.
I grew up in the country. There were times I would get on the horse and come home after dark. I rode to the next town. I rode everywhere. I can’t remember coming home and my parents asking where I had been. I lead a completely unstructured life and entertained myself–riding, reading, writing–seeing my parents at mealtimes for the most part. First published traditionally at 26, I now have 20 digital books on Amazon (did all the editing, created all the covers) at the moment and if I really buckle down I can finish the 21st by the end of the year. To say I resent and oppose anyone telling me what to do is minimizing my mindset.
I don’t get these cookie cutter kids who think marching in lockstep is some kind of unconformity. I laughed myself silly over the OWS human microphone thing with the up twinkles and down twinkles, though.
I’d like to wish Wretchard and all the posters here a Merry Christmas and a Joyous New Year!
This blog is a haven of thoughtfulness and wit, and I get to participate in the conversation, to extent I am able. That is wonderful.
In his post Wretchard asks: “Is this progress?”
Well, yes it is. But real question is towards what and even if that goal could be defined, is that where we need or want to go?
A CHRISTMAS FAITH
Bound by Reason, man sees the stars but touches them not; his instruments measure their brightness and composition, but knowing the brightness and composition of a star brings us no closer to an understanding of what they are and who made them. To those of Reason, the stars are inanimate balls of fire born at the singularity; to those of faith, the stars are the eyes of God.
In the deep dark, in the vastness of the plain
The fires gleamed, winking clear and bright
In the wild field where a lion’s cubs had lain
A family band was settled for the night
What are those lights there, a tiny voice was heard
Why they are sparks, son, from fires keeping warm
Why do they fly, like a tiny little bird
They fly to keep you well and safe from harm
Where do they go, for I see them climb the sky
Do they join the stars that I see far above
They do, for the sparks are the life that will not die
As we are the fire, and the stars that shine their love
Why are stars love, do they love us even though
We are here far away, where they surely cannot see
The stars are the eyes, son, of a God we cannot know
And so He sees the world and you and me
He sees us and loves us, and guides us in our ways
He gives us his love and asks nothing in return
He asks not for wealth nor for fame or hollow praise
He asks only that our fires burn
I see, said the child, both the fire and the sky
Are gifts to us from God, but God is where
He lives in our hearts, son, and will ‘til day we die
We only need to know that He is there
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Peterike #25:
That’s the real point of my Who Shot Ronald Reagan story. When I was in High School the idea of someone getting shot at school would never have occurred to anyone.
Ari #21: “It’s safe to walk in neighborhoods with pedestrians- like a college neighborhood.”
In a college neighborhood in my home town of Columbia SC, earlier this year a young man(18 yr old white) was running home from a friend’s place and was set upon by a group of 7 blacks ranging in age from 14 to 19. He did not blunder into a group of people out partying in their own neighborhood; the black teens drove to that area – miles from their homes – for the express purpose of beating up people. The kid they beat up was lucky he was not killed; he collapsed on someone’s front lawn and was found around 0100 and taken to the hospital.
As for bikes – there are a lot in my neighborhood. And I recall driving in a neighborhood like I grew up in – white middle class – and having to lock up my brakes when some kid on a bike came out of a driveway in front of me. The kid looked like he was about to cry; he knew he had done wrong and had nearly gotten killed for it. In contrast, driving through Lawndale, CA I had a kid ride out in front of me and laugh at me when I locked up my brakes – apparently he was too stupid to realize that he could get killed doing that – or else thought that death is a joke.
When the Left began their efforts to Make All Philosophies Equal in Outcome the crime rate went up and bad behavior became common.
I volunteer as an Assistant Scoutmaster with our local BSA Troop. The boys love getting outdoors, splitting firewood, lighting campfires, clambering over logjams to get across streams, hanging bear bags to keep the food away from Mr. Grizzly, charging full-speed through the woods at night playing tag…
Most of the moms completely understand and want their kids having this experience. They also have noticed the difference it makes in their sons, who generally become much better behaved at home once they start spending time doing “real stuff” outdoors.
But a small handfull of the moms don’t understand. They worry about everything. Oddly enough, the physical dangers aren’t their biggest concern. Little Billy can come back all scrapped up and bruised and the helicopter mom actually seems to like that. But the emotional and social dangers freak them out. Little Billy got into an argument with his friend and it hurt his feelings. Mom wants to know what we – the adults – are going to do about it. Sheeesh. And she keeps bringing it up for months…
Anyway, I think one of the big differences is not that we have more helicopter parents, but that we give more voice to the handful we do have. CPS agencies, lawsuits, busybody lobbying groups, all those give far more leverage to malcontents and people with skewed perspectives and outsized egos. The legal structure of our society, the intrusive size of government, gives the least reasonable among us veto authority (and this isn’t just with raising children either).
Well, that’s the bad news. The good news is that the solution is straight forward – shrink government and our kids will once again have healthy childhoods that actually prepare them for life. Meanwhile, I really do believe our Scout troop is helping at least a few kids in my community. The “normal” parents keep the helicopters in check, and even their kids are growing up. We’ve formed a Little Platoon of our own and are making it work.
Merry Christmas everyone. May it find the little platoons in each of your lives stronger.
My neighborhood is a suburban development that was built in the late 1950s. The original people who moved into those homes were probably World War II veterans who had married and were raising families. The streets were probably full of children in those days.
Our local fire department has a tradition that goes back as far as I can remember. The weekend before Christmas, a fire engine travels through the streets of the neighborhood at a slow speed with the siren going. Santa Claus sits atop the fire engine, throwing handfuls of candy to the throngs of children in his path.
I’m usually indoors when this happens, and I watch through the window. Every year this ritual is repeated, but there are no children in the street.
Merry Christmas, anyway.
Spare the rod, and spoil the child. This is one of the laws given to man by G-d. The new Age is all about getting rid of anything to do with the G-d of creation, and worshiping the creature.
Look at our society now after 40 years. The next thing you will see is Homosexual marriage. Just as in the days of Noah.
Regimented youths who are always taught to ask for permission and obey the rules and never go beyond line “A” are only a problem if you want a vigorous, imaginative, entrepreneurial society. On the other hand, if the desired result is a conformist , over-policed welfare state……
My youth was much as described by many here- go out and play, come back at suppertime. Fishing pole, BB gun, bicycle, (and later, motorcycles -I may be the only person on the planet who’s Mom never told him “those things are dangerous”)-My few friends and I managed to open up the West and defend our Indian homeland at the same time-quite an achievement!
Just finished Laura Hillenbrands “Unbroken”- The life of Louie Zamperini-
wild kid, Olympic runner, B-24 bombardier, pacific castaway, Japanese POW, Christian-
A fabulous read- and a fitting tribute to the “non-organizational” people.
He credited his survival to exactly the traits we are talking about.
At 57, I am forever thankful that I caught the tail end of ‘old’ way. I grew up in a small California Central Valley town. We rode our bikes all over the place, often out of town to the slough where we would fish and shoot at birds and frogs with our 22s. We rode in the back of trucks, even on the tailgate if in town, jumped off our roof into our doughboy pool … you name it, we did it – like every other kid at that time. I’m not saying we were wild kids . . . we did get clear instructions on firearms, etc., and our parents were good parents, but it there was a different mindset back then.
By 10-11 I was pulling our lawnmower with rake and edger behind me on my bicycle on my way to a ‘lawn job’. I haven’t seen that in years. In fact I haven’t seen a kid with newspapers over his/her handlebars in 20 years either.
One of the things, I think, that has played a role in this change in our perception of danger is this. Back then, if someone got seriously hurt, there was only so much that modern medicine could do … hence, limited medical costs to society. Nowadays, a head injury to a child can run into the hundreds of thousands of dollars, because of our new capabilities. Hence, can’t let those things happen.
Merry Christmas.
#25: “The rates really started escalating in the mid-60s and continued on up through the 90s.”
Would that coincide with the drive to de-institutionalize the mentally ill?
I grew up in a Chicago suburb. In the summer, we children roamed the block after dinner playing kick the can until we were called inside after it had gotten dark. In the winter it was sledding, or skating at the rink in the park, several blocks from home. One night I stayed out skating a bit late and had to walk home alone in the freezing dark. I was nervous enough about it not to do it again. A couple of groups of children had been murdered around Chicago in those years, and I read the newspapers. I don’t know if the perpetrators were ever caught. It didn’t stop me from riding my bike all over town, though, or walking around any other time.
For a few years when my daughter was young, we lived in a similar neighborhood, and I let her run around with the other children who lived there, thankful that she had a taste of that kind of freedom. I always wanted to know where they were, though, and what they were doing.
I agree with those above who’ve mentioned the differences between the old days and now. Thanks, though, to MP/24 for People Got to be Free.
Once I had to take a Music Appreciation course and there I fell in love with Couperin, so for those who enjoy a bit of the Baroque:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=endscreen&v=Wk9jCI2iQXA
Merry Christmas, W and all BCers.
We lived in a small town when we were small, so we rode our bicycles everywhere. Our mom locked us out of the house in the morning and after lunch, but there were lots of other kids to play with on the weekends and, in the summer, there were crops to get in for the local farmers. We were expected to earn enough money in the summer to cover our own expenses such as clothes and school supplies for the rest of the year.
When my kids were young (not that long ago), we lived in a more rural area. They would pack a lunch and ride their horses out into the north Florida woods with their trusty dog following them. I never worried about ‘em out in the woods. Their horses were completely trustworthy babysitters and when the kids tried to get them to do something dangerous, they would just stand there and ignore them. The ol’ dog wouldn’t allow anybody near ‘em, and they had their rifles besides. When the kids got lost, they let the horses have their heads and they took ‘em on back to the barn.
We had our own business at the time, and the kids were expected to work and to do chores around the place, feed the animals, and be responsible. If they decided not to feed, say, the dog or the horse one night, their food got dumped into the trash and they had to wait until morning so they knew how their dog, cat, or horse felt when somebody decided not to feed him. They got the message after a time or two.
When they grew up, they were astounded that their peers had no idea how to pour concrete, weld, untangle twins presenting at the same time, butcher a hog, rebuild an engine, do electrical wiring, plumbing, or any of the other assorted things that happen daily in farm and business life.
Wretchard,
It was given out elsewhere that an old acquaintance from this site (possibly one of your first visitors and certainly a continuously amicable one), buddy larsen, passed away.
If this is so, I would like to know and recall his many kindnesses to Jews to my Maker.
Thank you for all you do and have done through the years to enrich the lives of all the “allens” and “buddy larsens” out here in the ether.
A very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you and yours.
i wonder where that pinky thing came from — i use a coffee cup, and don’t stick out pinky, nor any other appendage – unless i have a plan to deal with what comes next —
as this thread shows – we are all individuals, with different individual experiences
and – that is the good thing –
you all take care – love those who you can –
Falice Navidad
- buddy is gone? – dang – the good people on Earth will miss him -
Allen…
I’m very shocked, saddened to read that Buddy Larsen has passed on.
Seems like my favorite games from childhood would be too non-PC now.
Capture the Flag (too militaristic, and involved physical tackling, by and of both boys and girls).
The Cigarette Game (essentially, tag, except to avoid the “tag” you had to shout out the brand name of a cigarette).
Capture the Flag was the absolute best. Played only after dark, up and down the entire street. Included the front yards of kids who were in the game. Which was pretty much every kid on the street (about 15-20 total). Street was about 8 houses (on @ side) long, with two orange groves mid-block, and a lake at the west end. Large house lots (1/3 to 1/2 acre each). IOW beaucoup hiding places. Even the young (small) kids could excel at this game b/c at that age they are better creepers and climbers than the older/bigger kids — stealth vs. strength. It also taught you a lot about controlling your fear … having to venture, often alone, into enemy territory on a mission to search for the opponents’ flag or to rescue your comrades from enemy prison. No thrill quite like making it back from Injun territory unscathed. Day-am, good times.
I’ve mentioned this before but not recently, so for the benefit of those who are more recent Clubbers and those with, errrr, less than photographic memories … I had the great blessing to be able to interview my father’s WWII squadron CO, Gen. George C. Axtell (he has a wiki page if you are interested in reading more) in the early 1990s. Axtell was a major and the ripe young age of 23 when he was given the command of VMF-323 in 1943. Looking back through the squadron photos from Okinawa I am struck by how young all those Marines were. When I interviewed Gen. Axtell, I asked him what, in retrospect, his perspective was on how to coax high performances and achievement from youth.
His answer was, set the bar of expectation high, provide rigorous training, and be firm but fair in dealing with snafus. He said that in that context, most youth (in his view) will rise to the challenge.
Now it seems to me that Gen. Axtell’s approach is fairly common sense and, what’s more, probably pretty likely to generate successful outcomes way more often than not. And it’s a couple notches closer to what would be deemed acceptable to the majority than my own Dad’s approach, which was (quite literally) the sink or swim method: He taught each of us kids to swim by taking us down to the American Legion when each of us had reached the ripe old age of about 2+ yrs; throwing us off the end of the dock and yelling “SWIM!” These days, that would be certifiable child abuse, no doubt. But all of us became excellent swimmers; nobody drowned; and Dad was a trained life guard in the event that any near-drownings occurred. In addition, I don’t recall his methods generating argument or vapors from Mom.
So.
What are we to make of the instincts of Dad’s generation, as measured by Dad & Gen. Axtell’s philosophy of challenging the yoots, vs. this:
http://tiny.cc/b5vpw
Does it seem the pendulum has swung way too far in the other direction?
At the risk of sounding like one of those middle-aged coots who boasts nostalgiacally about the proverbial tough childhood in which one had to walk to school in the snow, barefooted, uphill both ways … I can say I did manage to go through 8 years of college at demanding schools, earn 3 degrees, pull GPAs of 3.9, 4.0 and 3.8 respectively, all the while with severe clinical (and episodically suicidal) depression, no counseling or medication, and never once did I turn in a late paper b/c I was “too depressed” to meet a damn deadline. So I guess my reaction to an article like that in the WSJ is “oh for pete’s sake” and “what the french” … enough with the handholding, already. We are not talking 10-yr-old middle schoolers; we are talking about young adults, who are *supposed* to be in the final stages of learning self-sufficiency at that age.
My rule for my own students (adjunct college instructor here) is, you can turn in your assignments any time you like, but if you miss the deadline you are automatically penalized 20 percent of the assignment grade (before further deductions for content & formatting errors). And that rule applies equally to all students, those with mental health issues affecting their movitational & time-management skills, & those without such hurdles. I don’t believe in special treatment except for very rare cases (2 years ago I had a student who had been shot in the head the year prior & still had cognitive & memory problems) & while I think colleges should definitely offer support & counseling for students grappling with mental health issues, there’s a difference between “offered support” and “structured coddling.”
A successful life is carved out by gracefully overcoming adversity. As with muscle-building, building character requires the application of effort to resistance. Little/no resistance, little/no adversity = no strength. Witnessing what human beings are capable of enduring gracefully continues to awe and humble me, the more so the older I get. To me the remarkable thing is not the existence of adversity or even appalling inhumanity in the world, but the presence and depth of grace to be found in spite of the former. And I’ve concluded that the existence of grace has everything to do with what another commenter noted previously, whether or not a person has a basic sense of the transcendent (or at least, that’s where grace starts, IMO).
Who are we, where did we come from, where are we going, and why are we here?
Does it matter that, for example, Sgt. John Basilone lived as he lived, and died as he died … as opposed to, say, Sawney Beane? (sorry, WWII on the brain, just watched “The Pacific” yesterday & today) If it does matter, why and how? And what can we do, as a culture and a society and as family members, to produce more Basilones among us?
************
Apologies for the overly long post. Belmont Club is a great and rare hangout. Wretchard is an equally great and rare host. Thanks, thanks, W. And I’m thankful to you fellow Clubbers for both the (cyber)fellowship and the quality of your thought and conversation here.
Merry Christmas, all. May each of you find abundant grace poured out upon you & your loved ones in 2012.
Now I’m off to do Christmas-y things in meatspace.
Cheers and ho ho ho!
bogie wheel
I read the same article, and my response is the same. It isn’t only kids, it’s the whole society:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the kings horses and all the kings men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.
This idea seem lost in modern day society. There is always someone to pick you up.
Drugs? No problem, there is rehab (which doesn’t work).
Alcoholism? No problem, Medicare and rehab (which rarely works).
Crime? We will rehabilitate you.
Out of wedlock childbirth? No problem! The next generation will pay for your needs and even things you don’t need.
It’s hard to learn the sciences? No problem, we will import people, and ship the problem overseas to where people still understand hard work and discipline are important. From what I’ve heard, the techniques are not positive at all.
Mom and Dad aren’t home? No Problem! Super structured paid for activities.
All these take the sting away from very poor decisions, the inability to instill discipline, and the guilt Americans feel with Mom and Dad working, as well as the entire neighborhood.
The US is humpty dumpty sitting on a wall, only in this case the fall is slow, but it will be no less traumatic when it smashes into bits and cooks into a scrambled egg, our creditors will then consume.
Merry Christmas to all, particularly to our gifted host, w.
Good will to men of good will.
Nil carborundo illegetmi.
God Bless us Every One. / erc
G. K. Chesterton once said that if people will not be governed by the Ten Commandments, they would instead be governed by the ten thousand commandments.
Dang, Buddy Larsen was one of my favorite commenters here. Rest in peace, Buddy.
I had an email from Buddy on the 21st — just a few days ago, so let’s wait on confirmation.
W.
Oh, dear. Very sorry to hear about Buddy.
Merry Christmas wretchard and many thanks for your writing. Buddy is out there somewhere.
This is a small community, and fragile.
Over the last six years it has become a light and beacon for me and my brother, as few other places or communities I’ve known in my six decades on the planet.
The thoughts of other folks commenting and sharing their insights, judgments, speculations, and even occasional imaginative expletives, have enriched my life greatly. Some people leave their “brand” or mark on a person – college pals, buds from the service, cell-mates, IRS auditors, the attorney who represented your “ex”… Very few leave as many lingering smiles or echoes of good-natured and altogether wholesome laughter as Buddy Larsen.
Buddy, wherever you are, thanks for lightening my burden.
(Thanks for the reassurance, Wretchard. I’ll say a prayer.)
I have a beautiful burmese python as a pet. About four times a year (and just today) she becomes quiet and mostly hides in her box. When I open her cage I can see that her skin between her scales has become white, her scales have darkened, and her eyes have gradually become cloudy; eventually milk-white to nearly blind her.
She’s too well trained to bite me in this state but when I touch her she lets me know in no uncertain terms how unhappy she is. Itchy all over and blind and there’s nothing she can do about it except hide and hiss angrily at anyone who might try to draw her out.
All I can do is feed her at the appropriate times and provide appropriate humidity. These are what I can do to make her passage easier. Other than that, only time and the machinations of nature can ease her sufferings.
When her skin is ready to shed, she will flip her head over and rub it against whatever she can – her water dish, a rough space in her cage, the carpet. Often she leaves a perfect mask of her face behind, revealing her eyes once again shiny and bright.
She’ll enthusiastically crawl through the opening in her self-made prison, stripping it away from her body as she goes, leaving it inside-out. Sometimes the passage is easy and it comes off all in a touch. Sometimes not so much, and it comes off in patches and parts requiring her to crawl around and around the television set because the gap behind it is just the right size to rub her on both sides.
At this time she is always the most interested in the world around her; exploring, finding, discovering. She’s also the most affectionate, curling up with people to rest as opposed to finding a lurking position where she can just watch.
It is truly a miracle.
Former Congressional Rep. Tom Tancredo has an article posted on his website indicating that AG Holder “managed an FBI operation that provided explosives to Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols just prior to the bombing of of the Alfred P. Murrah Building in Oklahoma City…”
His role in that madness is reported to be revealed by documents released in response to a Freedom of Information Act lawsuit brought by the relatives of a prisoner who died under suspicious circumstances while in custody in what seems to have been a related FBI “sting” operation.
I wonder if anyone here has seen any other confirmation of this. All I’ve been able to see is a bunch of blog/websites, all of which appear to have “cut and pasted” the same article text.
If the allegations are true, they show a pattern of insanity and wildly irresponsible behavior, not the least being the failure of the MSM to follow up.
Pray for this country.
A lot of this “restricted & sheltered” childhood has to do with folks simply having less children. Sort of a “all the eggs in one basket” thing where little Jimmy or little Susie are now too precious to risk. Maybe if children become commonplace again then they will be allow to be kids again.
JMR, keep up the good fight. Boy Scouts is the best thing that can happen to a young man, IMHO. But then I say that because I am the son of a Eagle Scout who became an Eagle Scout himself and then raised his son to become one. And if I am blessed in the future with a grandson (grandsons hopefully) he too will become an Eagle Scout. Some of my best memories are from scouting, both as scout and as the father of one. Tell everyone of my friends with sons, “Put him into Scouts. Best gift you will ever give him.” Only place left it seems where boys get to be boys.
Merry Christmas to all. May this holiday season be joyous for you and yours.
Here’s a really thought provoking talk on TED called
When Ideas Have Sex
http://www.ted.com/talks/matt_ridley_when_ideas_have_sex.html
Merry Christmas all.
I am 58 years of age, and I still remember my parents describing their childhoods. Sure, they were poor, but they had vastly freedom in their day than I ever did in mine. It has only gotten worse since then.
These days, children are being raised in pens, like veal, in a holding pattern that warehouses them until legal age but does nothing to prepare them for real adulthood.
CPS has done more to harm children, parents, taxpayers, and society as a whole than anyone can imagine. Such agencies have instilled a crippling fear of their wrongheaded interventions into innocent parents and children. It’s all part of the ongoing leftist indoctrination of America and the west.
In 1969 at age 12 and entering the 8th grade I was sent to a remote boarding school on Vancouver Island where corporal punishment was still allowed. I was beat with a cane twice: once 4 strokes by the headmaster for disobediance and once 6 strokes by the housemaster for smoking. One kid kept getting caught smoking and must have been beaten a dozen times, it was a big joke for him. Waiting in line outside of the office and listening to the kid ahead of you getting whacked and screaming was quite and experience. Afterwards we would compare our bruises. Now they would call it torture but to this day I still think a few bruises for a school boy is a good thing and far better than psychoanalysis from some feminized social-worker-specialist. As long as the issuer doesn’t derive some perverted or sadistic pleasure from it that is.
I lost my second son to a house fire at the age of 20 a few years ago. If I didn’t have 2 other children the burden would have been far greater. I think the “only child” and “the family jewels” small family syndrome is really the root of the problem of the nanny school system that disallows any risk. Like most contributors here my father not only allowed but encouraged the kind of risk taking that would get one sent to child protection services today. He had 6 children and the downside to the risk that one of them would not make it to adulthood had been experienced in his family over many generations. He was dragged off to the Japan during the Korean War and left behind my mother and older siblings on a ranch in the Arizona desert. In our “modern” western society many people never have to deal with big sacrifices let alone with death until it is themselves who are on the deathbed. They don’t call it the nanny state for nuthin.
It was the death of my son that really brought home how fleeting life is and that life is not a government sponsored entitlement. It was dealing with the legal consequences of his death that really brought home how the nanny state government only “cares” about its subjects in the most abstract sense.
Gaffe Prices@27
They say that those who can, do. And those who can’t, teach.
…and that those who can’t teach, teach gym.
And those who can’t do a goldern thing well at all become public school administrators.
I’ll fess up. I’m a gym teacher, so I guess the ‘Theys’ must be right this time.
I do think former gym teachers/coaches make good school administrators, though. They realize conflict is actually a process and they know how to wing it skillfully when the ‘game plan’ gets thrown on the ash heap in the first quarter.
Since I could also serve as AD, administer small school networks, etc., etc., I had a lot of inside dealings with school administrators. I agree with your sentiments regarding who gets ahead and who doesn’t.
As I follow this thread I can relate to many of the other posters. I also grew up in the manner
that most describe. Because I remembered how much fun we had I would often have the kids in gym class play capture the flag, kick the can and all kinds of tag games. They still love playing. Classroom teachers were often huffy about scratched and sweaty kids for some reason, but that didn’t stop us.
I help out now with basketball in a smallish village here in Germany. I find the kids to be quite different here than those I experienced in my last few years in the US.
A gym teacher here asked me to help him with a baseball unit. The kids were very attentive and were conscientious with their skills work. When they took the skills and theory tests and the end of the unit it was as if they were taking a chemistry final. I can imagine what the classroom is like.
Luckily, I live on a street full of playing kids. To rub it in even more, every now and then the doorbell will ring and I have to go get the ball someone kicked into the yard. There is something magical about the sound of kid’s playing. It sounds like 50 years ago,
Frohe Weinachacten und einen guten Rutsch ins neue Jahr an alle.
Merry Xmas to all. As always I learn so much from others here. W shows the way and opens the door –there is always a fire on the hearth of intellect, good meaty fare for all, sometimes wine to be savored with the pinky raised. A virtual house filled with very real blessings. Thank you all.
And W, thanks extra for the recipes. The description of shrimp with garlic-cream-dill sauce on spaghetti is making me so very hungry right now!
Stay well, and may 2012 be full of better days for all.
ConfederateH #59:
I believe it was in 1993 when a man in Woodbridge, VA lost his 9 year old son in a house fire. A few days later the man was out in his yard cutting his grass, probably taking refuge in the small tasks that help keep us from dwelling on terrible events. And the local authorities came and arrested him, right there on his own lawn.
He was charged with tampering with a smoke detector.
When I sold my house in CA in 1988 I was told that they had passed a law requiring the installation of a smoke detector in a house before it could be sold. When I sold my house in VA in 1994 I was told the law required that TWO smoke detectors be installed before it could be sold. It was not hard to see how this was going; eventually we would be required to have at least two smoke detectors in every room, and then they would start requiring carbon monoxide detectors.
I suppose they could charge me with tampering with smoke detectors in my present home. One that I installed refused to stay mounted in its plate; I devised a way to keep it from falling off the ceiling. Two others had faulty battery contacts; I tried repairing them but finally gave up.
This shows why Small Government is a must. Governments pass laws without even asking for permission from the honest people they impose them on. Then unelected bureaucrats arrest people based on absurd interpretations of those laws.
Well, I hope that Buddy (or Luddy, as he was sometimes known) is still with us. Have not heard from him in a while, though.
And Merry Christmas, everybody!
You have my heartfelt condolences ConfederateH. That must make a pain in your heart that will last for eternity. Life is short and life is precious.
As far as Buddy is concerned, he has blogged at Maggie’s Farm as late as 12/22 so I left him a message to check in here before we start posting his eulogies.
I have wondered that in the past only those with children live forever through the memories of their heirs. But in the advent of the blogs like the Belmont Club, many of our lives are extended by the bits of Unicode left on these pages and falbackbelmont and beyond to new pastures of posterity. We give up of ourselves our personal being one particle at a time until the digital transformation is complete. Ever more so than a head marker. Perhaps a human data miner might chance across the writings of Wretchard and his flock on the internet like some future ghost walking down the path of the digital past and ponder his earthly existence where the present moment intersects with the eternal.
God bless.
Here’s wishing a very Merry Christmas to Wretchard and all members of the Belmont Club “family”. It has been a joy to be a small part of this group over the last few years and I thank you all for creating such an inspiring and thoughtful community.
CHINS UP!!!!!
This Halloween was the best I have ever seen. In mid-afternoon the littlest kids (pre-school) started to show up with parent(s) in tow. I set a rule “Ladies first”, so up would come an adorable, polite (mostly Hispanic)girl with a beautiful smile saying “Trick or Treat” and “Thank you”. Then came the boys on their best behavior. As time went by the kids got older, but the pattern persisted. By the time the middle school kids showed up we were out of candy, so we all just shouted “Happy Halloween”! Best one ever!
The key to dealing with kids is to treat them with the dignity they deserve as persons entitled to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”. They really do get it. As Jesus said
“Let the children come!”
The favorite Xmas present was a box of .22 shells – and in later years 12-gage or .30-06 – or rarely, a long package with the weapon itself.
The neighbors lived in a farmhouse whose gun closet had accumulated three generations of weaponry from the 1870s, some of it pretty quaint, including a cane gun and some strange concepts of lever-action preceding Mr. Browning’s inventions. So hide-and-seek involved a march to that closet, each player’s selection of a weapon, then a solemn mutual ceremony of inspection in which all chambers and magazines were verified empty.
Then to tag a hider, the “it” guy simply pointed and clicked, thereby preceding the mouse age by 40 years. To get in free, the hiders each had to ambush and click the “it” guy in two separate actions.
Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure.
Helen Keller
I certainly hope Buddy hasn’t crossed to that other world behind the veil. His posts were always massively informative and entertaining. I looked forward to them, always, and hope he returns to give us some more. I must say I haven’t seen a post from him in some time here, though. Maybe I missed one but I don’t think so. Does anyone know the last time he posted here?
Buddy posted last on Sept 1, but I had a private email from him dated 20 December, 2011 (21 December in Australia) and he seemed well then.
Christmas reminds us of the gift of God to Man, but also that God remembers His Children.
Emmanuel. I am with you.
Through all the darkness and light,good times and bad, the loss of hope and the eternal wellspring of hope which is faith, He is with us.
He is with us, and has not forsaken us. Perhaps we should examine if we have forsaken Him?
And He will be with us always, even unto the close of the age, even unto the end of the world.
Merry Christmas to all, and here is to the hope and faith that sustains us all.
@62. RWE, @63. Annoy Mouse,
He missed the last train home and went back to spend the night in a fire trap with no smoke alarms. The Swiss don’t require smoke alarms. The doorbell didn’t work or a passerby would have woken them. The lights didn’t work in the hall. The fire department immediately fought the fire in front when the only victim, my son, was dying in the back. As many bad stars aligned to take his life as good ones have often alingned to save my own. The hard lesson is that no one has an entitlement to never suffer from the loss of their loved ones, and trying to eliminate these risks is a distant cousin to “to big to fail”.
“Buddy posted last on Sept 1, but I had a private email from him dated 20 December, 2011 (21 December in Australia) and he seemed well then.”
Thanks Wretchard.
If Buddy did make the trip we all will make one day, I pray he now knows the answers to all the questions he posed here as well as the answers to the really big questions of life and reality.
Of course, I hope this is all for naught and he’ll show up to say he’s all right.
I know the thread is likely dead, but:
Merry Christmas, to all y’all.
re: #54 -
that was different – i know that it is real – and i see it as allegorical comment as well
#59 / 71- yes – many here seem to be resolved to do what they can, we have setbacks that are painful to our core – somehow – we move ahead – know that you have many friends – you may have not met them, but they have met you, and they are there.
we cannot – redo the wrongs that have happened – we can do our best to diminish future wrongs – we all are here, in large part to do that, as best we can – in our own ways – it can be hard to recover the resolve – but your ability to do so inspires us all – keep doing it – and we will try also – and together we can and will do so – of that we have no doubt.
each in our own way – for our own reasons – believers or not — but we all have a common goal – – and there is the good thing
In sweet accord, we thank the Lord – for auld lang syne
An thers a han, my trustee feer, an gees a han o thyn
and we’ll tak a richt gude willie waucht
fir ald lang syn
Melekalikimaka – Whanau
here’s a very good piece in Harpers called “Science Crises of Faith” which gives a very precise explanation of where science is and how that bleeds back into theology discussions.
http://www.harpers.org/archive/2011/12/0083720 ….
Going back at least 500 years scientific discussions have a very big influence on theological discussions. Inversely, theological discussions have influenced the way new information is interpreted. Right now, among physicists there is a big split between those who think there are multiverses and those who think there is a universe. Both positions require faith for different reasons.
imho a Good read.
Good news: I saw comments from Buddy at Maggie’s Farm that were dated 12/24 and 12/25.
So I don’t know where that rumor came from.