WARNING: this may be a long post. To my friends with ADHD, try to follow along, and if you can't well, I love you anyways.
As we go through life, we often find ourselves with different sets of friends through each phase of life. You have the friends you went to school with, the friends you work with, the friends who grew up with you in the same neighborhood. Old friends, new friends, lost friends, ex-friends, and acquaintances. If you look at any given person's facebook profile, or email contact list, you may very well find hundreds of different friends. Along with family, that list probably contains a cross-section of people from every one of those categories. How you made friends with, or ended friendships with them varies as much as each individual person. I've had a lot of friends over the years, some I still see from time to time, others I haven't seen in years, and others yet that are friends almost strictly through the internet. You know the kind, people you interact with constantly online and get along well with. Enough so that if you actually met in person, you could go have a beer with, or coffee or soda for you non-drinkers, and carry on a conversation with them that would make onlookers assume you've been friends all your lives.
If you're lucky, you find yourself a friend or two in life that stick with you for life. No matter where you go, what you do, how long you may have been apart, that bond of friendship endures it all. Differences of opinion make no difference to the friendship. Honesty will always come out, especially when your friend thinks what ever you said or did was quite possibly the stupidest thing imaginable. And while a dose of that honesty may irritate the hell out of you, the very fact that they weren't afraid to tell you that you were wrong is always appreciated, and only further serves to strengthen your friendship. It builds the loyalty between you, and shows the commitment towards each other, despite any differences, because you see the integrity and credibility your friend displays.
Honesty, Loyalty, and Commitment. These words used to mean something across the broad spectrum, and adhering to these qualities would earn you respect, even among your adversaries, but especially amongst your friends. Now these terms are more likely to apply to a dog rather than a human. To display these qualities may make you the nice guy everyone likes, but it wont necessarily get you anywhere in the world in a material success sort of way. I try to live these qualities as best as I can, towards not only my good friends, but to even the most casual of friends. Some days I feel more like an old soul born into a soulless generation, who view these terms as mere words and cliches, and will ditch them as qualities if it means getting whatever they may be after in the moment.
I've been lucky enough in my life to have two people in my life who have reciprocated these characteristics when it comes to me. One is a man, one is a woman. They have been with me for a long time, through a variety of situations.
The man, is my lifelong friend, Jed. We've literally been together since the diaper years. When my family moved out to Iowa from California shortly after my younger sister was born, they somehow hooked up with his parents, who are basically a second set of parents to me and have been all my life. For Jed and I, when it seemed life at home sucked, we went to the other one's place. It was a small town, the doors were always unlocked, and for us, there was no need for knocking before entering. Now that could be scary for our young minds walking into a possible nude parent in the open kind of situation, but I think the frequency of our visits encouraged our parents to keep their clothes on. Well, during the day, anyways. Jed's dad, at night when we would be sleeping over, didn't much care. With a house full of nothing but boys, when he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, he wasn't covering up for anybody. And the path to the bathroom always seemed to go right in front of the TV we were watching. I've seen way more of Dad #2 than I ever cared to see.
When Jed's parents went through divorce, he came to me. This was my first real exposure to the idea, at least in real life and that close to home. Being maybe a teenager, it's not like I had any words of wisdom to make up for my lack of experience in that arena. But as his friend, I was there to let him vent, re-direct his mind, whatever, I was just there. Later in life as adults, when I went through a rough patch in my married life, I went to him. He could relate, and offer advice to me, let me vent my frustrations out on him, and just be there for me, making sure I didn't go take a dive off the deep end and do something stupid and permanent that I may or may not live to regret down the road. He gave me a safe zone to stay while I worked things out in my own mind. He definitely kept me centered, and did his best to make sure I stayed on the straight and narrow. He lives two states away from me now, has a beautiful wife and soul mate, and they recently adopted two beautiful little girls to make their family complete. We still talk, and see each other on visits from time to time, picking up where we left off, as though we'd just been together the day before. He has never been afraid to be honest with me and tell me when I'm being stupid. His loyalty shown through brightly when we were teenagers and I ran away for a few days, leaving him hanging with a paper route to do by himself, with no car (and I cashed out our collected money..oops), and at the mercy of both our dads. I never told him what I was up to, but when questioned, not only did he not give me up (because he couldn't), he went a step further and made sure they knew, at risk to his own life, that even if he knew anything he wasn't going to rat his friend out. His only really serious beef with me over the entire deal was that I didn't bring him along. He's my best friend, my brother for life. I love the guy- and before you use your words against me later- that love is in an entirely non-homosexual way.
The woman friend, we'll call her "Sara". This part is going to be a doozy. My thoughts will be honest, but a lot will be withheld for reasons of both privacy and decorum. I guess I should start at the beginning with her. We met at a park in Sac City, while she was in town visiting her relatives. My initial interest wasn't even with her, but a friend she had brought along for the trip. I, on one very rare occasion made the approach to the girls. Sort of. I used my buddy Jed's bike, because I didn't want to embarrass myself the first go around by showing off my mom's old John Deere bike I was using until I could get my new bike. I rode past the girls, eyeing them a on a swing set, with full intention of hitting them up. However, they saved my scared bacon, when they called me to quit chickening out and come over and talk to them. Have I ever mentioned I'm a bit on the shy side, especially when it comes to girls? So I took interest in her darker haired friend, because well, I prefer darker haired ladies over the blonds (which she denies she was, but I know what my eyes saw). They lived a few hours away, so a normal courtship was clearly out of the picture, but when you're 14 or 15, who really cares.
The letter writing (which was the extent of our relationship) between Sara's friend and I fizzled out pretty quickly. then one day out of the blue I get a letter from Sara. I didn't actually know her last name, so I was a bit confused as to who was sending me a letter, but not having much in the way of mail coming to the house in my name, I was all too glad to have something to read. Instead of me seeking out her as my friend, she sought me out on her own terms. And I'm really glad she did. Before I knew it, Sara and I exchanged a flurry of letters, quite possibly being responsible for keeping the United States Postal Service profitable all by ourselves. We exchanged letter so often, that when we ran out of things to say about the events in our lives, or our thoughts, I would occasionally find myself with a portion of a letter dated for one day that was a repeat of the same sentence "This is my new (insert color here) pen I'm trying out." She had 7 new pens she used, a couple were duplicate colors. But she was committed to making sure I got mail, which always made me feel important. Dad got bills in the mail from people committed to taking his money. I got letters from someone who didn't want my money (well maybe she did, but I didn't have much washing dishes for $3/hr after spending it on stamps and phone calls), but just wanted my friendship. I felt pretty friggin special. One major problem for our little pen-pal relationship we had going on was that her mother did not like me back then (I couldn't tell you her opinion of me now, some 15 years later). But Sara, being Sara, wrote me even though I couldn't write her back because her mom would confiscate the letters I sent. Eventually her loyalty to our friendship led her through the repeated process of setting me up with her friends' addresses (this changed from time to time), so that I could respond to her letters and she'd have something to read. To hand write out 8 pages per letter was nothing, and occasionally some would hit almost 20 pages. These of course were written over multiple days and sent out together. Otherwise, I think we'd both be suffering from permanent hand cramps from all that writing. Eventually her mother relented after finding out she was still communicating with me, and the fact that I was in Oklahoma attending Basic Training at Ft. Sill. The postal stamp confirmed where the letters were coming from, so apparently she thought her daughter safe from my evil boy ways with a few states between us.
We had a running commentary on our family life and parental woes, reasons why the world is a stupid place, the fact that I was (in my opinion) an athletic god among men (if you compared me to babies that haven't learned to crawl yet anyways), while she was unable to even do a single pull up. She really was such a girl about it. We'd discuss our plans for the future. I had deluded my own mind into thinking my future was this life of grand design. We discussed our flings and romances with other people. You see, she and I were kind of like the couple that never was. We were very close in that aspect. While respecting our right to date other people we could actually see, we often didn't much care for each others' significant others of the moment. She was the girl, I never dated, but still put her up on a pedestal to measure all other girls to the level of standards I assigned to Sara. But eventually, while Sara was always there for me, and would always in my mind be "my girl", I found another girl, who would eventually become my wife and the mother of my children. And true to nature, Sara eventually found herself a man to marry and they now have a new baby. He's a cute baby too.
The other day, while visiting my parents, my mom brought me down a box I had given her to keep a LONG time ago. It contained letters from people to me from when I lived in California and in the military. It contained a collection of notes and letters from my (soon to be ex-) wife. And then there were a couple of envelopes that contained the majority of letters Sara had written me over the years. I poured over those letters in no particular order. I was transported back all those years to before my marriage, remembering what life used to be with fond memories of that little girl I met at the park who stole my mailing address from her friend just to write me. I also found a reminder of her honesty in dealing with me. After I had a quick rendezvous the night before I was sworn into the National Guard, that resulted in my losing my virginity, she cussed me out in one of those letters, and swore hideous things about the girl that took my v-card away from me the only night I knew her.
We've met up from time to time throughout the years. I once even stayed at her place over a weekend to visit after we hadn't seen each other in a few years, as she showed me around her town and the wonders of living in frigid ass Minnesota (where people don't drink for fun, but to help stay warm). Even though our lives took so many different turns and paths, we remained loyal to the friendship we started a little more than half our lives ago. She's met my family, and maybe someday I'll get to meet her husband and their baby. Her husband is obviously a really good guy, considering she actually decided to marry him. He also has a rare spot that most men in her life never held: I never pre-judged him. Which is probably a good thing. I'd hate to think she married someone I didn't like, especially over something as dumb as he's another guy in her life. I'm not so sure I can say the same thing in reverse. But she never let our friendship go, even when I was being a jerkwad and concentrated only on my own life. And for that I love her, like always (and again, in a non-homosexual way...I am after all a lesbian trapped in a man's body). She really does embody what it means to be a best friend.
I'm sure I had other ways of going on and in conclusion to this post, but, I doubt I can really improve upon what I have written down. So I'll leave it at that.
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Update on the Man Eating Bat Terrorist
Dateline Des Moines, IA
13August2009
In an unprecedented move, Rentacop forces moved in on the Hoyt Sherman Place Wednesday evening. Recently becoming a stronghold for Terrorist Bats (undoubtedly trained in Al Qaeda camps), the first real offensive has been considered a victory for Rentacop forces.
After disturbances last weekend, and early Wednesday morning, recon forces were sent in to assess the situation.
"Upon entering the facility all was quiet," Mike Lovell said. "And after a recon of the upper levels was almost complete, all hell broke loose." Mike was commenting anonymously, as he isn't cleared as a spokesman for his particular not-to-be-named security company, NPI Security.
"Complacency almost got us killed. We were wrapping up the mission, and had let our guard down when it all happened. But we were determined to not let such an incident occur again."
Wednesday evening, more disturbances rocked the Hoyt Sherman place. In an effort to quell further terrorist activities and to keep unrest from spreading through the community, the Rentacop Special Strike Forces were dispatched to bring the situation under control.
"I wasn't able to be there for the operation," Lovell commented, still maintaining his anonymity. "I was scheduled for bed rest until midnight. I left it to my Operations commander and patrol leader to perform the snatch and grab, which eventually led to the death of the terrorist bat."
The following is the anonymous Lovell's expert take on the events of the operation, based on 2nd hand information from the participants:
Entry was made at the rear of the compound. After clearing the main level, Rentacop officers proceeded upstairs. In a location code named the "Mirror Room", the bat terrorist made his presence known. A mime-like firefight broke out, as the bat strafed the officers, and they swung flashlights and flailed arms at it, while ducking and dodging the repeated swoops.
The Rentacops retreated back downstairs to regroup. These were obviously high level Bat Terorrists, given their ability to strike fear almost instantly into such hardened Rentacops. Definitely not your run of the mill bats. Maneaters for sure. After a few moments, channeling Lovell's strategically superior mind (WWMD is always the question to ask yourself when in the fight of your life)while he slept, a plan was hatched.
Tablecloths were procured by each officer, and one by one, rooms that had been re-cleared were closed off. Soon the Rentacops found themselves staring pure hell-born terror in its beady little blind eyes in the last room. This would be the final battle to wrest control of Hoyt Sherman Place, helping to secure the secret rumors of Chicken Boy from possible internet notoriety.
With enhanced aerial sonar capabilities and a 10-12 inch wingspan, the Bat Terrorist attempted to navigate the room and confuse the strike force, but within moments found its technology foiled by the radar mixing surface of stealth tablecloths. One stealth tablecloth was deployed, taking the terrorist out of the air. The second one was deployed, creating a blanketing effect on the terrorist bat for easy capture. A ground fight ensued, and finally in perfect Rentacop fashion, Commander Cook laid down the rules with a well placed heal.
We're not saying that the terrorist died for his cause, and we're not saying he was or was not captured. Spokespersons at GITMO have refused all comment. The Obama Administration has also been eerily quiet on the matter. We're still further investigating this manner through other named anonymous sources, but have yet to confirm this story. As a quality news organization, we wanted to make sure you heard it here first. We'll sort the facts from the fiction later, as the story develops, most likely into a really big whopper of a tale.
13August2009
In an unprecedented move, Rentacop forces moved in on the Hoyt Sherman Place Wednesday evening. Recently becoming a stronghold for Terrorist Bats (undoubtedly trained in Al Qaeda camps), the first real offensive has been considered a victory for Rentacop forces.
After disturbances last weekend, and early Wednesday morning, recon forces were sent in to assess the situation.
"Upon entering the facility all was quiet," Mike Lovell said. "And after a recon of the upper levels was almost complete, all hell broke loose." Mike was commenting anonymously, as he isn't cleared as a spokesman for his particular not-to-be-named security company, NPI Security.
"Complacency almost got us killed. We were wrapping up the mission, and had let our guard down when it all happened. But we were determined to not let such an incident occur again."
Wednesday evening, more disturbances rocked the Hoyt Sherman place. In an effort to quell further terrorist activities and to keep unrest from spreading through the community, the Rentacop Special Strike Forces were dispatched to bring the situation under control.
"I wasn't able to be there for the operation," Lovell commented, still maintaining his anonymity. "I was scheduled for bed rest until midnight. I left it to my Operations commander and patrol leader to perform the snatch and grab, which eventually led to the death of the terrorist bat."
The following is the anonymous Lovell's expert take on the events of the operation, based on 2nd hand information from the participants:
Entry was made at the rear of the compound. After clearing the main level, Rentacop officers proceeded upstairs. In a location code named the "Mirror Room", the bat terrorist made his presence known. A mime-like firefight broke out, as the bat strafed the officers, and they swung flashlights and flailed arms at it, while ducking and dodging the repeated swoops.
The Rentacops retreated back downstairs to regroup. These were obviously high level Bat Terorrists, given their ability to strike fear almost instantly into such hardened Rentacops. Definitely not your run of the mill bats. Maneaters for sure. After a few moments, channeling Lovell's strategically superior mind (WWMD is always the question to ask yourself when in the fight of your life)while he slept, a plan was hatched.
Tablecloths were procured by each officer, and one by one, rooms that had been re-cleared were closed off. Soon the Rentacops found themselves staring pure hell-born terror in its beady little blind eyes in the last room. This would be the final battle to wrest control of Hoyt Sherman Place, helping to secure the secret rumors of Chicken Boy from possible internet notoriety.
With enhanced aerial sonar capabilities and a 10-12 inch wingspan, the Bat Terrorist attempted to navigate the room and confuse the strike force, but within moments found its technology foiled by the radar mixing surface of stealth tablecloths. One stealth tablecloth was deployed, taking the terrorist out of the air. The second one was deployed, creating a blanketing effect on the terrorist bat for easy capture. A ground fight ensued, and finally in perfect Rentacop fashion, Commander Cook laid down the rules with a well placed heal.
We're not saying that the terrorist died for his cause, and we're not saying he was or was not captured. Spokespersons at GITMO have refused all comment. The Obama Administration has also been eerily quiet on the matter. We're still further investigating this manner through other named anonymous sources, but have yet to confirm this story. As a quality news organization, we wanted to make sure you heard it here first. We'll sort the facts from the fiction later, as the story develops, most likely into a really big whopper of a tale.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Why Do Kids Cuss (and then cover it up)?
Lately, I have noticed a problem amongst my two sons and the neighbor kids.
One neighbor kid, a girl of about 12, I don't even know how to approach the subject, because honestly, I don't think her parents care.
The other neighbor kid, a year older than my 9 year old, seems to repeatedly drop the swear words. Last week, I caught him swearing while out playing with my boys in the yard. He of course wouldn't cop to it, and my son, Josh tried not to rat out his friend. I can appreciate loyalty to one's friend, but not at the cost of lying to me over something so meaningless. I mean, in its sense of meaningless, that it isn't a matter of life or death importance.
Now, them being the only white boys amongst a group of hispanics and a couple of girls, I knew that it was one of the two of them.
I asked one simple question: "Were one of the two of you swearing?" This seems to be a pretty cut and dry "yes or no" type of question. At least to me. Josh looks at me, shrugs his shoulders and states, "I didn't say it." This may be true, but it fails to answer the question as to IF one of them had cussed. The neighbor kid, Ryan, tried to deny it, but Josh, under pressure, broke down and gave me the truth.
Both boys received the soap in the mouth treatment from Ryan's mom. Ryan for cussing, and Josh for lying about it.
Fast forward to today. Those two, and my youngest are inside our apartment playing and running around a bit like boys do so often. And then suddenly I hear the words "holy s---" come from the back bedroom. When called out, noone was talking. I got from Ryan that he "heard" the words "holy shOOt". Okay, I'm old, I'm half deaf. But do they really think I've gone stupid?
Since noone would talk, Ryan was sent home, Josh to his bed for a nap. As Ryan left he felt compelled to tell me that Corwyn (my 4 1/2 year old) had been dropping the f-bomb. After he left, I asked Corwyn, who admitted to cussing.
Now, honestly, I know us adults aren't entirely innocent here. We cuss from time to time, and Ryan's parents I think do it even more so than my wife and I do. But guilty is guilty, regardless of whether the kids are within earshot or not.
When I grew up, my parents cussed. Especially when I was really young, but I think that was a direct result of the havoc I wreaked upon my parents. And yet, I still didn't even begin cussing much at all until I was close to the teenage years. And nowadays, I hear pre-teens, and single-digit aged kids dropping cuss words left and right as though its as normal as asking someone how things are going. I guess I just don't get it. And I'm not even sure how to deal with the cussing by my kids, let alone other people's kids who are out in the yard playing with my kids. We live in an apartment building in a section of town that is almost exclusively apartments, so we get kids of all walks of life coming through, and they all play together.
A lot of the foreigners, seem to be the most adept and most "fine with" the kids cussing, but it pervades all spectrums. We live in a lower socio-economic environment, but it just seems to me that isn't a valid reason to let it go.
I am contemplating keeping my kids separate from playing with the neighbors, but is that really teaching them anything?
I just truly wonder what it is that I can do to cut down on the rather offensive language. I can't always be cut in dry in everyday life, as it isn't PC, and yet I'm supposed to accept this foul-mouthed language? And what about the lying to cover it up?
I would appreciate any help I can get on this one, to help nip it in the bud as fast as possible before it grows beyond my ability to control it.
What's a young father to do??
Here is a semi-related article by Chuck Norris:
Jesse Jackson (on an off-air mic before "Fox & Friends") and Whoopi Goldberg (and another host on "The View") have raised the cultural language debate to a new level: Who has the right to say the N-word? Their answer: Blacks can, but whites can't. Unfortunately, this derogatory debate has degraded into Don Imus on steroids.
I agree with a lot that Whoopi had to say about the imbalances between the races. But I disagree with her for going off on an intentional N-word marathon, which was bleeped out repeatedly in order to demonstrate her point. There's a reason her diatribe was bleeped and our society still veils our full expression of the N-word: because it still is regarded by most as derogatory and demeaning. (Even among blacks, the N-word obviously can be defamatory, as Jesse Jackson proved when he used it in the same breath he used to describe how he would like to cut off Barack Obama's genitalia.)
This is more than a race issue and far more than a debate over freedom of speech. When will we learn that just because we can say something doesn't mean that we should? Once again, we're confusing liberty for licentiousness. It is a classic example of what happens when a society leaves its moral absolutes: Everything becomes culturally relative, with each deciding what's right in his own eyes. Language is one more infected arena in America's societal degradation.
Think about it. What word is nasty or unwholesome anymore? There are no "bad words." Words once considered evil are now terms of endearment. There's the B-word, the D-word, the A-word, the F-word, etc. Even bleeps are mere blips on America's moral radar screens. When ministers use G-- d--- in their sermons and moral activists threaten to cut off a presidential candidate's genitals and call him the N-word, can't we see the signs that we're heading in the wrong direction? We have become desensitized to everything, from profanity to pornography.
Today's America is certainly not the one in which I grew up during the '40s and '50s. Profanity of any sort was wrong back then and frowned upon by most in private or public use. Today profanity has become a positive form of expression, with studies even showing that it releases stress and boosts morale at the workplace!
I genuinely believe we can do better. I believe we must do better. We need to leave a better legacy of decency, civility and respect for future generations. I believe we need to give them our best, and our best must be more than justifying the use of derogatory language based upon cultural or racial relativity or even freedom of speech. If we're going to reverse negative trends among our youth, it's going to begin with us establishing a better model for them of how we treat and speak about others.
Whoopi proposed that we must find a "new way to move forward." I propose that that new way is not new at all, but an old way that has been discarded and forgotten. It is a way that simultaneously addresses equality, respect and decency. It is a way that was promoted by America's Founders and eventually resulted in increased unity and civility across the land. And it is also a way that I devote an entire chapter to in my upcoming book, "Black Belt Patriotism." The chapter's titled "Reclaim the value of human life." Here's a little of what I say in it:
"The Founders believed equality would give legs to freedom. As John Adams said, 'We should begin by setting conscience free. When all men of all religions … shall enjoy equal liberty, property, and an equal chance for honors and power … we may expect that improvements will be made in the human character and the state of society.'
"The Founders knew that America was not perfect. Slavery, in particular, troubled the consciences of many of them. … Nevertheless, our Founders believed there was something inherent in humanity that called it to a higher purpose. For all the shortcomings of early American society, the remedy was always there -- expressed in the founding documents of our nation. The Declaration of Independence set America's course. Though we have sometimes drifted from its highest principles, all Americans have ever had to do was steer by its compass to acknowledge or rediscover the inherent equality of slaves, women, the poor, Indians, and the unborn. All were -- and are -- children of God, endowed by their creator with 'certain unalienable rights.' …
"The Founders could not immediately abolish slavery. It was too entrenched in the economy of the South, but the Declaration eroded its foundations in a way that made its end inevitable. That 'all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights' is one of the most powerful principles ever enunciated in the history of politics."
And that power can be unleashed again to help us in our day. The sooner we get back to our Founders' words, our country's original calling, the sooner we will start treating one another (red, yellow, black and white) as our Founders' prescribed and the sooner we will get beyond these slanderous debates about language and humanity. It's time to grow up, America -- to move beyond the arguments of yesteryear. You're older than 200 now. It's time to act your age.
One neighbor kid, a girl of about 12, I don't even know how to approach the subject, because honestly, I don't think her parents care.
The other neighbor kid, a year older than my 9 year old, seems to repeatedly drop the swear words. Last week, I caught him swearing while out playing with my boys in the yard. He of course wouldn't cop to it, and my son, Josh tried not to rat out his friend. I can appreciate loyalty to one's friend, but not at the cost of lying to me over something so meaningless. I mean, in its sense of meaningless, that it isn't a matter of life or death importance.
Now, them being the only white boys amongst a group of hispanics and a couple of girls, I knew that it was one of the two of them.
I asked one simple question: "Were one of the two of you swearing?" This seems to be a pretty cut and dry "yes or no" type of question. At least to me. Josh looks at me, shrugs his shoulders and states, "I didn't say it." This may be true, but it fails to answer the question as to IF one of them had cussed. The neighbor kid, Ryan, tried to deny it, but Josh, under pressure, broke down and gave me the truth.
Both boys received the soap in the mouth treatment from Ryan's mom. Ryan for cussing, and Josh for lying about it.
Fast forward to today. Those two, and my youngest are inside our apartment playing and running around a bit like boys do so often. And then suddenly I hear the words "holy s---" come from the back bedroom. When called out, noone was talking. I got from Ryan that he "heard" the words "holy shOOt". Okay, I'm old, I'm half deaf. But do they really think I've gone stupid?
Since noone would talk, Ryan was sent home, Josh to his bed for a nap. As Ryan left he felt compelled to tell me that Corwyn (my 4 1/2 year old) had been dropping the f-bomb. After he left, I asked Corwyn, who admitted to cussing.
Now, honestly, I know us adults aren't entirely innocent here. We cuss from time to time, and Ryan's parents I think do it even more so than my wife and I do. But guilty is guilty, regardless of whether the kids are within earshot or not.
When I grew up, my parents cussed. Especially when I was really young, but I think that was a direct result of the havoc I wreaked upon my parents. And yet, I still didn't even begin cussing much at all until I was close to the teenage years. And nowadays, I hear pre-teens, and single-digit aged kids dropping cuss words left and right as though its as normal as asking someone how things are going. I guess I just don't get it. And I'm not even sure how to deal with the cussing by my kids, let alone other people's kids who are out in the yard playing with my kids. We live in an apartment building in a section of town that is almost exclusively apartments, so we get kids of all walks of life coming through, and they all play together.
A lot of the foreigners, seem to be the most adept and most "fine with" the kids cussing, but it pervades all spectrums. We live in a lower socio-economic environment, but it just seems to me that isn't a valid reason to let it go.
I am contemplating keeping my kids separate from playing with the neighbors, but is that really teaching them anything?
I just truly wonder what it is that I can do to cut down on the rather offensive language. I can't always be cut in dry in everyday life, as it isn't PC, and yet I'm supposed to accept this foul-mouthed language? And what about the lying to cover it up?
I would appreciate any help I can get on this one, to help nip it in the bud as fast as possible before it grows beyond my ability to control it.
What's a young father to do??
Here is a semi-related article by Chuck Norris:
Jesse Jackson (on an off-air mic before "Fox & Friends") and Whoopi Goldberg (and another host on "The View") have raised the cultural language debate to a new level: Who has the right to say the N-word? Their answer: Blacks can, but whites can't. Unfortunately, this derogatory debate has degraded into Don Imus on steroids.
I agree with a lot that Whoopi had to say about the imbalances between the races. But I disagree with her for going off on an intentional N-word marathon, which was bleeped out repeatedly in order to demonstrate her point. There's a reason her diatribe was bleeped and our society still veils our full expression of the N-word: because it still is regarded by most as derogatory and demeaning. (Even among blacks, the N-word obviously can be defamatory, as Jesse Jackson proved when he used it in the same breath he used to describe how he would like to cut off Barack Obama's genitalia.)
This is more than a race issue and far more than a debate over freedom of speech. When will we learn that just because we can say something doesn't mean that we should? Once again, we're confusing liberty for licentiousness. It is a classic example of what happens when a society leaves its moral absolutes: Everything becomes culturally relative, with each deciding what's right in his own eyes. Language is one more infected arena in America's societal degradation.
Think about it. What word is nasty or unwholesome anymore? There are no "bad words." Words once considered evil are now terms of endearment. There's the B-word, the D-word, the A-word, the F-word, etc. Even bleeps are mere blips on America's moral radar screens. When ministers use G-- d--- in their sermons and moral activists threaten to cut off a presidential candidate's genitals and call him the N-word, can't we see the signs that we're heading in the wrong direction? We have become desensitized to everything, from profanity to pornography.
Today's America is certainly not the one in which I grew up during the '40s and '50s. Profanity of any sort was wrong back then and frowned upon by most in private or public use. Today profanity has become a positive form of expression, with studies even showing that it releases stress and boosts morale at the workplace!
I genuinely believe we can do better. I believe we must do better. We need to leave a better legacy of decency, civility and respect for future generations. I believe we need to give them our best, and our best must be more than justifying the use of derogatory language based upon cultural or racial relativity or even freedom of speech. If we're going to reverse negative trends among our youth, it's going to begin with us establishing a better model for them of how we treat and speak about others.
Whoopi proposed that we must find a "new way to move forward." I propose that that new way is not new at all, but an old way that has been discarded and forgotten. It is a way that simultaneously addresses equality, respect and decency. It is a way that was promoted by America's Founders and eventually resulted in increased unity and civility across the land. And it is also a way that I devote an entire chapter to in my upcoming book, "Black Belt Patriotism." The chapter's titled "Reclaim the value of human life." Here's a little of what I say in it:
"The Founders believed equality would give legs to freedom. As John Adams said, 'We should begin by setting conscience free. When all men of all religions … shall enjoy equal liberty, property, and an equal chance for honors and power … we may expect that improvements will be made in the human character and the state of society.'
"The Founders knew that America was not perfect. Slavery, in particular, troubled the consciences of many of them. … Nevertheless, our Founders believed there was something inherent in humanity that called it to a higher purpose. For all the shortcomings of early American society, the remedy was always there -- expressed in the founding documents of our nation. The Declaration of Independence set America's course. Though we have sometimes drifted from its highest principles, all Americans have ever had to do was steer by its compass to acknowledge or rediscover the inherent equality of slaves, women, the poor, Indians, and the unborn. All were -- and are -- children of God, endowed by their creator with 'certain unalienable rights.' …
"The Founders could not immediately abolish slavery. It was too entrenched in the economy of the South, but the Declaration eroded its foundations in a way that made its end inevitable. That 'all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights' is one of the most powerful principles ever enunciated in the history of politics."
And that power can be unleashed again to help us in our day. The sooner we get back to our Founders' words, our country's original calling, the sooner we will start treating one another (red, yellow, black and white) as our Founders' prescribed and the sooner we will get beyond these slanderous debates about language and humanity. It's time to grow up, America -- to move beyond the arguments of yesteryear. You're older than 200 now. It's time to act your age.
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