Many of the things that Paul talks about in his post “When I Was a Kid Things Were Tough” were pretty much the same when I was a kid but things were a whole lot rosier for me than Paul seems to remember from his childhood. Don’t get me wrong—I’m a huge fan of Paul Johnson. Not only can he string a bunch of words together and make them sound both interesting and entertaining but he has a woolly crop of hair and the original number of chins God gave him. Before you get the wrong impression I’d just like to say that this post is not about Paul’s scalp being almost completely hidden from public view but about how great things were when I was a kid and I wouldn’t hold his deprived second-rate childhood against him for a second. Because I’m older than Paul, I was young before him and in those Good Old Days there probably was a different socio-pulmonary context which made me being a kid seem like a breeze. Maybe Paul’s unfortunate recollections are the result of the times he grew up in or maybe he was one of the kids two blocks over I used to pick on when I was a teenager, I just don’t know.
Category Archives: Nostalgia
Last week in Revenge Inc. I made my readership an offer they couldn’t refuse. I don’t want to say that the vast majority of them refused my offer because should anything sudden and unfortunate happen to them a coroner’s inquest could infer that I might have a “motiva uvam acerbam” [sour grapes motive]. So, to be on the safe side, let’s just say that only two of them accepted my most generous offer.
Let’s dive right in and solve some problems!
Life can be frustrating, what with all the obstacles that it keeps throwing in our paths, but we have to remain philosophical… what choice do we have? I mean it’s frigging life we’re talking about here… it always wins in the end so we’re pretty much screwed. But when it is another person who is making things difficult for us, well, that’s a different story.
We could, I suppose, reason with the person causing us problems to achieve an equitable outcome but diplomacy tends to put us back into the position we were in before hostilities began and ignores compensation for any wrongs, real or perceived, done to us. This is where retaliation shows itself to be the better, more just, and more satisfying solution to many of life’s little problems. Continue reading
Remember the excitement you felt back in elementary school when April Fool’s Day rolled around? Remember your high school years when April Fool’s Day could very well mean a trip to the nurse’s office and getting out of History and Phys Ed due to your injuries or a mandatory interview with local law enforcement? Wasn’t that fun? Why did all that have to end? Society, in the form of our educational institutions, beats the wonder and “fun” out of a child, that’s why.
I was a teenager in the ’70s and one of the big crazes that caused a lot of craziness was the spike in interest in Asian martial arts. It seems like everyone was “Kung Fu fighting” (a terrible song, by the way). There was a lot of talk in the hallways of my high school over which particular discipline we should waste our parents’ money on by signing up for classes.
A lot of Kung Fu movies were hitting the cinemas, and the best fighter seemed to everyone to be Bruce Lee, but there weren’t many places to learn Kung Fu. So we’d sign up for whatever martial arts classes we could find and get into huge discussions about how whatever we were personally learning was better than whatever the other guy was taking.
I just don’t know how it all started.
Perhaps it was that time when my parents took me and my four siblings away for a weekend in the country. It was a place called Kerr’s Farm in Morin Heights, Quebec. The place had guest rooms in the main building and a couple of cabins. Being a fairly large group, we stayed in one of the cabins. There were barnyard animals to pet, a small shack with a pool table, a couple of pinball machines, and a candy counter.
In the main building was the dining room where they would serve meals. In a spirit that seemed to mirror the norm for meals in the context of family life in the early ’60s, they had a “take it or leave it” menu plan — they served something and you had no choice… you ate it or starved. The only problem was that if my father was around, you were not given the choice of “leaving it”.