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Childhood: Then and Now

This was just too damned good not to repost.

Childhood: Then and Now: “

When I was a little kid, my parents pushed me out the front door every day.

‘Come back when the streetlights come on,’ they said.

Oftentimes, my 3 year old brother was sent out with me to tagalong. Of course, I considered this a great imposition. After all, at 5 I was way too old to hang out with babies. Still, I had to take care of him because that’s what older sisters are supposed to do.

Back then, we never dialed phones and set up 2 hour play dates. Instead, we’d simply knock on our friend’s doors and say, ‘Is so&so allowed to come out and play?’

Of course they were.

When we got a good group together, we’d play baseball or kickball in the street.

Yes, in the street.

When the cars rounded the corner, we’d scurry away as fast as we could. We’d use a whiffle ball instead of a real ball in order to prevent hurting anyone’s car. After that, we’d have a squirt gun war. No one checked the temperature on the Internet to make sure it was warm enough to get wet.

Fortunately, no one got sick or died.

Some days, we’d go exploring in the woods. Our minds full of fantastical stories of bad guys chasing us, we decided we must build a tree house. So we gathered up scrap pieces of old wood, rusty nails pulled out of rotting pieces of equipment, and a hammer someone nicked from their Father’s toolbox. Then we’d nail this crap to a tree. Once the rickety house was complete, we’d climb up in it, careful to hold on to the branches in case the floor gave out beneath us. Then, we’d muse to ourselves that we had not built it high enough.

We built ramps in parking lots and jumped them with every toy we had that sported wheels. Skateboards, bikes, roller skates. We didn’t have helmets or kneepads or elbow pads. It didn’t matter. Sometimes we’d fall and rub the skin completely off of our bodies. Nobody cared.

We’d eat berries and apples from strange trees. We’d ride our bikes 6 miles to the park, alone. And not just any park, either. We went to parks with monkey bars higher than our Dad’s heads and dangled our legs over cement. We sat in puddles full of oil and water and swam in water so dirty it might as well be called sewage. In the summertime, we’d go 6, 7, 8 hours at a time without laying eyes on our parents.

And we survived.

Hell, we didn’t just survive. We flourished.

Not a single one of us was overweight; we all had little muscles popping out here and there. We were brave, too. Little badasses. There was no way a perv was going to kidnap us. In fact, we kept little sticks we had sharpened on the sidewalk in our pockets, just in case. Homemade shanks. Sometimes we got lost or hurt, sure. But we knew the difference between a creepy adult you should steer clear of and a responsible adult you could ask for help.

And not one of us died. Not one.

Unfortunately, things have changed and I’m inclined to believe it’s not for the better. I cannot stand how cowardly, weak, and coddled children have become. Children twice the age I was back when I was running the streets with a 3 year old brother in tow have 1/8th the confidence and capability.

Last week, I went to target with a 10 year old and an 8 year old. We stopped in the toy section for a moment because I remember what it was like to walk the isles and dream. (As opposed to today where children walk the isles and demand shit until they get their every heart’s desire)

I said to the children, ‘I’m going to go look the bath towels. If you want to stay here and look at the toys, I’ll be back to get you in 10 minutes.’

As a child, I wouldn’t have even acknowledged this was a big deal. It was commonplace for me to split from my parents in department stores. They always looked at boring shit and I had a Christmas list to write.

‘No, we’ll just stay with you,’ the children nervously tittered.

‘You want to look at bath towels?’ I asked, ‘Are you sure? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay and look at the toys…or maybe cross the isles and look at the electronics?’

‘No, we’ll just stay with you.’

I can’t stand it anymore. Kids aren’t normal! They have no childhood anymore. They just have one never ending, confidence crushing, adventure less, schedule. They have self esteem, (whatever that means) but no actual accomplishments.

So I came up with a plan.

I gave the children $20. ‘This is for cleaning up the yard,’ I said.

Then, we went to the mall. As we stood by the pizza place in the food court, I approached them with a little proposition.

‘You guys are free to go spend your money, but I’m not coming with you.’

They blinked their eyes, confused. ‘Where will you be?’

‘I’ll be in the boring stores and I don’t plan to step foot in a single toy store. So if you want to spend that $20, you’re going to have to go it alone.’

The children were torn between the desire to spend the money that was burning a hole in their pocket and their preference to remain in the company of adults at all times. Finally, they hesitated and I knew I had them.

‘We got to lay down some ground rules, though, before we split up. The first one is that you stay together no matter what. The second one is you do not leave this mall under any circumstance without me…not even with another adult. The last one is we meet back here at this pizza shop at exactly 3:30pm.’

I paused briefly when I realized that neither one of them was wearing a watch. Then I thought to myself, fuck it.

‘If you need to know what time it is, you can ask any clerk working behind the counter of any one of these stores. If you need directions back to this pizza place or to a restroom, you can ask them that, too. I want you to mind your manners, don’t break or steal anything, no fighting, no screaming, no running, and no idiocy. You got that?’

They nodded their heads carefully.

‘Alright then, go. Have fun.’

I watched them walk away until they got lost in the crowd. For a moment, I felt completely satisfied. They’re finally learning independence, I told myself.

But that lasted only a moment. Not more than 5 minutes after they walked out of my sight, I found myself choking on my fear.

What if they get lost? Fall down? Get into trouble at one of the stores? What if someone sees them walking alone and calls the police? Ten and seven is plenty old enough to walk around a mall, but people are nuts now. Nuts. And what if they’re right? This is a safe neighborhood. Not a single child has been kidnapped here in my lifetime. Crime is low. No gang violence. This is a safe neighborhood! But still…but still…but still.

I resisted the urge to track them down and tell them I changed my mind. If I had I would have invalidated every bit of courage they had displayed in walking away. So, I let them be.

And at exactly 3:15, I was at the pizza shop waiting for them. If they are even 5 minutes late, I will go looking for them. Get on the intercom or something, I nervously told myself.’

But they weren’t late. At 3:30 on the nose, they showed up, cheeks red with excitement, with a bag of spoils wrapped around their arms. They had an adventure. They had a great time. They walked with a bit of a swagger now. Children of the world; little bad asses.

I knew the answer the second I saw them strutting, but I asked anyway, ‘Did you have a good time?’

Their answer was enthusiastic.

Of course they had.

Of course they had.

No one died. Instead, they experienced a bit of pure, undiluted, childhood.

(Via Violent Acres.)

Has it really been a month? I guess blogging hasn’t really been on my mind. Just about everything else has been.

We just got Psycho Momia‘s car back to us 3 days ago. The insurance company put us through hell, but I won’t go into that.

The current thing is that the Fruit has really screwed me. When I took the “Brainiac” position, I was excited about going for training and certification. That excitement has dwindled now all the way to dread. For whatever reasons there are, I am now: Not going to California. Not going to be here for Smallest Child’s 4th birthday. Neither thing is sitting very well with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I started writing this 3 days ago. Nothing much has changed, except that I am more resigned to it. This was something that I was looking forward to, and now I just want to get it over with.

Work on the attic continues on. A couple of weeks ago, we moved our bed in to there, and began sleeping alone for the first time since oldest was born. Definitely has it’s benefits. Lights on, volume up!
The down side is that I can only work on half the room. Once I have that half primed, we’ll move the bed to that side, and I can finish up the side we are sleeping in. There is no more framing to do, the dry wall is about 80%, and I’m taping and mudding. The house is so old, that even where I built in, nothing is even remotely square. Just about every piece of sheetrock needs to be cut, and seams have to be filled.

We also pulled down most of the plaster in the entryway, insulated and re-rocked. I added a light to the entry way, and replaced the worn out porchlight switch. I also have skim coated over the mess of plaster, joint compound and wallpaper on the interior wall. Remind me next time to just pull the plaster down, cuz it’s a true pain in the ass.

After a weekend in the 60’s, we are getting another 6 inches of snow today. Most annoying.

Psycho Momia’s wild ride.

Getcher minds out of the gutter.

We got Psycho Momia’s ride back yesterday. It’s mostly drivable, mostly unharmed, and currently disabled as there is a likelihood that there are a set of keys floating around for it.
The damage thus far seems to be limited to the following:

  • the rearview mirror has been pulled of the windshield and through the headliner. In the process, a largish chunk of glass was removed from the windshield.
  • The drivers window was left open about 6 inches through the last storm, so there was a lot of snow on the drivers seat. Some had melted.
  • The punks used the center console/shift tower as an ashtray. I haven’t yet seen any burns elsewhere, but I won’t be surprised if I do.
  • the front plate and holder was torn off
  • the car now handles like the 100 year old roller coaster at Lake Compounce. Shaky, rattly, and harshly. The tards must have thought it was a real SUV.
  • A completely random list of stuff is missing:
    1. A handmade copy of Nine Inch Nails’ latest disc – the slip (with a custom case by me). There were a half dozen other NIN discs left behind.
    2. Blood Sugar Sex Magick and Suck My Kiss (CD Single). Again, there were 4-5 more Red Hot Chili Peppers discs in the car.
    3. My brand new, never made it out of the car after the show, bought from the man himself, copy of Voltaire’s “To The Bottom of the Sea”, with, you guessed it, several more Voltaire CD’s left behind.
    4. A bag of about a dozen Kids books. Naturally, they were bigger books – meant to keep small children busy on long rides.

I don’t have all the details on how it was found, but I do know it was found less than a mile away from here at an apartment complex.

From what I do know, and have surmised via little bits of info here and there, they have been driving it for the last couple of weeks. They put around 70 miles on it. They live fairly close by. The fucker who was last driving it was shorter than my mother in law.

In the end, I simply wish that the two of them live in interesting times. And get butt raped by Bubba.

I’ve got to bring it to the claim center, and see what they have to say.

A journey through the mind Of a Tattooed Dad.