A Time Out on Time Out.

What’s up, everybody? Hope your week has gone well thus far; mine has been a bit up and down due to allergies and whatnot but I'm maintaining. It's not all bad as to keep my sanity, I’ve been writing and getting reacquainted with my old friend, television. It's been awhile OK, last night since I flipped on the ol’ tube but I’ve been making up for lost time (let’s just say – my electric bill just got a little higher).

Nevertheless, while channel-surfing; I ended up watching Good Times... who just happened to be home to the happiest people in the ghetto, the Evans family. These folks were always so daggone cheerful, cracking jokes and whatnot.

Did they not realize they were in the projects in the middle of Chicago?!!!

This is the city where I was born and raised for the 17 years of my life and every time I've had the misfortune of the opportunity to speeding quickly through there be in the area, the only time I saw smiles was from the semi-nude drunk vagrant singing to himself in front of the fiery garbage can.

I'm digressing – so I’ll get back on track.



This particular episode, cast a not-quite-nasty yet Janet Jackson as Penny, the precocious little neighbor - who was getting the brakes beat off her reprimanded by her mother for lying (and for really just being born). She ended up getting saved from this madness by the Department of Children and Family Services (and Willona, the next-door neighbor who never stayed at her own damn apartment).

I know this makes me sound really slow, but when did ass-whippin' become a crime?

So what Penny’s mother used an iron to prove her point?
You call it abuse, I call it productive.

I bet you one thing: Lil' Penny was REAL slow to tell another fib!

Society has cast upon us the thought that it’s wrong to spank your child and it can mess up their psyche. Forget that nonsense – time-outs are for sporting events only, not for ornery rugrats. In the words of DJay (from the illustrious cinematic feature Hustle and Flow): whoop that trick!

I was raised under the adage: spare the rod, spoil the child. Mama Sharon used to lay those hands on me whenever I thought about getting out of line. She even had a look. She would scrunch up her face real tight (like she was constipated); bring her eyes to the tiniest of slits and bite the insides of her cheeks. I swear that look caused me instant diarrhea a lot of stress from the fear it would instill in me.



I figure it was that way for most parents back then: after THAT look came into play - playtime was over.

The scenario:
They would talk to you for some ungodly amount of time, telling you how wrong you were and how they were doing this because they loved you. Personally, I think this was to soften the kid up for the kill. When they finished the lecture, they would always end it with these words: THIS IS GOING TO HURT ME MORE THAN IT HURTS YOU.

My thought was: OK, how about we trade places then? I couldn't have on my conscience for you to be hurting like that.

This would end up with the kid, crying a river of tears, snot and drool and rubbing their sore butt.

Nowadays, these brats contemplate turning in their folks in to the child abuse services (you know the hotline trying to help kids out of beatings nationwide). I almost called those folks on Mama Sharon once – but I swear I heard her yell out to me: "I'll give you a REAL reason to call those folks if you even THINK about making that call!"

All jokes aside, I appreciated the "tough love". I think I turned to be mostly normal (although I’m still a little swollen on the backside), well, at least, I’m not TOO crazy.

Let me know about discipline was handled while you were growing up and you plan on discipling/currently discipline your children.

Thanks for listening to me ramble – that's my two cents. See you next time!

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