I know it's wrong and everything, especially since once upon a time, in a neighborhood far-far away, I was also a drooling brat who longed for little more than to sneak away to 7-Eleven up the street with other, similarly-inclined drooling brats, in search of Big League Chew and those hideous candy cigarettes which laid the groundwork for our future lung-cancer treatment needs.
We were all kids once, and I feel confident in stating that we were all annoying to some degree, particularly to those folks not forced to love us by sheer law of blood connection.
But here's the difference: When we did that, back in those days, it was rare. Why was it rare? I'll tell why - because if we got caught we'd get our ASSES BEAT. See, at five, six, seven, or whatever we all were, we were not allowed to so much as CROSS THE STREET, much less traverse the block and a half to the big, bad, BUSY STREET where 7-Eleven was located. Oh hell no.
But these days? Well just set me up a lawn-chair with a broom to whack the kidlings and call me curmudgeon, cuz these little bastards are off the hook. For starters, forget about not crossing the street - these kids walk ONLY in the street. Um, what the fuck do my tax dollars pay for cracked sidewalk replacement, people? Why bother HAVING SIDEWALKS? Jesus H, we should just become like New Hope and get rid of the damned things altogether in North Minneapolis, since hardly anyone ever uses them.
But really, I know, I knowwwww.... it's the parents. It's always the parents. At least that's what my therapist tells me.
Here's what's frightening though:
Even though I hate them, these children are our future, as they say. These loud-mouthed urchins who spent all summer running the streets doing whatever they wanted because mom and dad were either at work, stoned, not paying attention, or whatever, allowing their progeny to race through the streets throwing footballs at passing vehicles and breaking the windows of vacant houses, are OUR FUTURE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN.
Is anybody else afraid?
very. afraid. like, slit my throat afraid.
ReplyDeleteI'm building a bomb shelter in my basement. Not because I'm afraid of tornados or nukes. It's the next generation. These Ipad pounding pukes driving their boom cars with bluetooth earrings are are are taking us down the path to armageddon.
ReplyDeleteI'll be safe in my basement bunker, eating Dinty Moore dinners and watching Seinfeld reruns.
Yes. And when I was a kid here's another thing that was different. If I screwed up to the point where another adult had to reprimand me in public, that adult would call home before I even got there (back in the days of rotary phones and no cells). Then, when I got home, momma would beat my ass TWICE as hard for misbehaving to the point where someone had to say something to me.
ReplyDeleteNowadays, these baby mommas don't let anyone tell their miscreant of a kid what to do. Don't matter if you're right and the kid just about killed someone or himself. Their thing is that ain't nobody allowed to tell their kid shit.
I grew up on the side that had the 7eleven so there was no need to cross the street. My sister got ran over in a alley and I just got my permit at age 25, I'm a bad driver so look out..
ReplyDeletePlease write something new. I enjoy your musings!
ReplyDelete