Letting Go


It is that time of year again. High school graduation is looming, and prom season is upon us. I am seeing a lot of folks on social media who have kids in their last year of high school, who are young adults, according to the laws of the land, getting ready to head out into the adult world of college and work. Suddenly, all those parents are lamenting that their baby is grown up and leaving them behind.

I didn’t. I mean, sure I would miss them being around all the time, but if you have done your job as a parent correctly, then it is time for junior to head out and grow up. As parents, we only have our children on loan anyway. The goal is to have them become adults with lives and families of their own, no matter what that family looks like. So why all the crying and wailing that they are doing exactly as they are meant to do?

Selfishness, perhaps. A feeling of losing control? Maybe feeling like your purpose is changing and it is something you aren’t ready for, nor is it something that you like? Well, heck, folks, you have had eighteen years to get used to the idea. I wanted my kids to grow up and get on with life.

Of course I worried, because, like most adults, I knew the things out in the world that could hurt them, drag them down, frustrate them, scare them, and annoy them. I knew they would have to pay bills, eat, clothe, and take care of themselves, without mommy and daddy to do it for them. I knew that they would have to figure out how to balance income versus outgo in their bank accounts, I knew they would need to understand credit cards are a financial trap. I knew they would need to understand how taxes work, and that they had to be aware of every penny they would have to pay, and how to do their taxes or who to take them to so they could be done correctly. I knew they would have to learn how to make a deal for a car, and what needed maintenance on a regular basis. I knew they had to know that making a decision about paying a debt or having fun wasn’t really a decision, other than to make sure the debt was paid first.

I knew that my child would no longer be a child to most people, but an adult student or employee. As such, they would be expected to act like an adult. That meant understanding that your boss is not your equal, nor is he or she your friend. Your boss tells you what to do, and like him or her or not, you will do what you are told. An adult works hard, and gets paid for said work. A student, if not paying their own way, is there to learn and do well in school so he or she can get a paying job in a career of their choice. They have one job. Graduate at the end of the four years. To do that, they have to stop playing like teenagers and start studying like it is a job.

If we have done our job as parents correctly, our kids will be ready to leave home and move forward in their lives. From teaching them how to cook, clean, and do laundry to teaching them how to deal with finances, bank books, and car maintenance, it is our job to make sure they know how to do everything an adult needs to do. If you have done that, and they have had part time jobs learning how to function in a work place and in public without being a childish brat, then they know the basics of being an adult. Bravo, you did it!

Now, all they need is more experience. The only place they are going to get that is outside your comfy nest. Be there if they sincerely need help, but encourage them to learn how to deal with life on their own. If they know Mom and Dad will fix everything, they will never learn to trust themselves to make a decision, and they will never truly leave home and become an adult. Let them go, let them learn. Love them as the adults they are and will be. Then go do something fun for yourself. You earned it.

2730 Words


2730 words. That is all he wrote. 2730 words define his poetry and deepest thoughts. So few, yet they say so much. How can it be?

There are fewer words in an obituary, even fewer on a tombstone, summing up most of our lives. We don’t know how the person buried under the soil felt, or what they thought, or what engaged them. And when those that knew them are gone too, all is lost.

It is beyond sad so few of us leave behind any written legacy for our loved ones. A quote, a thought, a story, a remembrance, to hand down from generation to generation sharing and telling the future what the past was all about.

Each of us has a story, lived a life seen only from our perspective. We know things no one else knows, and we share only what is acceptable, easy, and gentle. The hard truth, the pain, the rage, all of those are buried as deep as a coffin, shame.

2730 words are the legacy of my son. Something to share, no matter how painful, with all those who loved him, and all those who will never meet him in this life. It was an honor to put his words together for those who will come after.

It Is Over, Finally!


It is over. Finally, We have a new President, a new Congress, and a new agenda. Time to get to work, so just stop having tantrums and act like adults. You have four years to work the kinks out of your complaints and to fix your democratic party. By then, even the most infantile amongst you should be mature enough to understand politics is not personal and have to do with the country, not your feelings.

President Trump is neither a Republican, nor a Democrat, he is an Constitutionally aligned Independent, and as such, has no loyalty to either party in power. Bravo! America First, not the pundits of the Washington D.C. Beltway. As such, he will have an uphill fight against all the entrenched politicians who are stunned that he actually won. I was laughing like a loon once he was sworn in as our new President.

Yes, Our new president. I loathed everything Obama stood for, the very sound of his voice made me ill. Nothing he had to say interested me, I was worried about living day to day under his regime. But, he was still the president, and even if I couldn’t respect him as a man, I could respect to office he held. It was a struggle, but I managed. So suck it up cupcakes, and learn to deal with the present, not what you didn’t get.

Today is the first day of the new presidency. What do we see, what does the rest of the world see? People who should know better out tearing up businesses, burning things, screaming foul language, and exhibiting rude behavior all in the name of an almighty temper tantrum. You did this when your candidate lost, it didn’t change a thing; one would think you would learn from that. Have your tantrum, all it does is make people with an ounce of common sense laugh at you, find you immature, or a paid ally of the true enemies of the United States. Just stop. It will not change a thing, nothing, Nada, and the administration of President Donald J. Trump will go forward.

I am hoping when the histrionics, snowflake crying sessions, thumb sucking, and kicking of feet stops (probably when they get bored, hungry, stoned, or sober), that people will just learn to make a difference in their lives for good and for the good of their communities. Stop playing patty cake with childish behavior, and take another step toward being a grown up. Roll your sleeves up, and get to it.

People of my generation used to protest, but my heavens, we didn’t tear up our own neighborhoods to make a point. We didn’t tear up anyone’s neighborhood. We had to live and work there the next day. This mess will take days to clear up, and people will be out of work because of YOU. Feel good now?

Look, life doesn’t stop for anyone, and all of us have a finite amount of time here on earth, why not use it to build something, make something, grow something rather than destroy what others have worked hard to obtain?

Many people will never like President Trump, eh, so, don’t like him. His job isn’t to make everyone like him, his job is to keep American safe, financially stable, and strong. Your opinion isn’t going to change those things that need to be done. No one is taking any rights away, for heaven’s sake, and heaven knows women have the same if not more rights than any man. I don’t care if you are one of the rainbow alphabet people, or an 80 year old white man, we all need to be safe, financially stable, and have the strength of the military to protect us against terrorism.

We are all people, different, thank goodness, some good, some bad, some peaceful, some angry, but we are all people. Stop pretending to be offended at every little thing, stop pretending to be scared of progress, stop being a damned victim and simply work to be a descent human being. I don’t like some things I see, and I certainly didn’t like Obama at all, but I didn’t cry about it. We tried it the uber liberal way, it wasn’t working. Time to try something new. Crybabies and cupcakes can go to your safe place and sulk all you want, but Mr. Trump will still be president tomorrow. Keep acting out and your safe place might be the county jail, because like with all childish displays of temper tantrums, the adults in the room get tired of it, and discipline happens.

Now, lets see what is going to happen before making the decision to be a brat.

How Did I Get So Old So Darned Fast?


Today I turned 62 years old. I think that qualifies me as older than dirt. I know it qualifies me as a senior citizen. What I want to know is how it happened so darned fast. Just a few weeks ago, I swear I was trying to figure out the whole concept of being an adult.

When I turned nine, I remember it well, because my parents gave me a copy of Huckleberry Finn. The first real book I remember ever getting. I still have it. And I took time to re-read it not too long ago. When I turned 17, I was a married woman of a whole three months. I remember thinking I had it all, and knew it all, and wasn’t afraid to face everything life would throw at me. I was a grown woman, and by heaven I knew it all. Arrogance knows no bounds to a 17 year old.

When I turned 20, I had a three month old son, he was taking me down a peg or two in arrogance, and teaching me that being a grown woman was harder than it looked. Being a mother certainly was harder. Little did I know that by the time I turned 22, I would have a second baby boy and life was set on fast forward for the next twenty years or so.

I don’t remember many spectacular birthdays. They seem to blend together. However, I remember when I turned 30, my two best friends kidnapped me, drove me all over Harrison, Arkansas for a few hours, then took me out to eat at a steak place. When I walked in, almost the entire church ward, most of my Boy Scout Leader friends, and many others turned up for a surprise party. I was totally shocked. Not a clue slipped out from anyone. Back then, there were no cell phones, so no one was able to tip me about the kidnapping or anything. It was great! I was fully embarrassed, but it was the slickest thing anyone has ever pulled on me. Candy, and Edie Mae , I have not forgotten, and I will get even one day.

The best gifts my husband gave to me are: The Elton John Concert in Hong Kong, The Michael Buble concert in Memphis, and my beautiful blue Honda Del Sol sports car, I call Posh. Treasured memories, and one of the most fun toys I have EVER had.

Once our boys moved out and on with their lives, and we got custody of Crystal, we decided to move to Europe, and then around the world, using employment opportunities to set off on our next adventure. When it was time to move on to the next new home, it was always on my birthday. We were either moving into a place, or packing to move out of a place – or in accommodations between places. Since it was either a sad time, or an exciting time, there was never time to pay much attention to celebration. One exception, however, was when we were living in Hong Kong. The other moms with children Crystal’s age who attended the same international school as Crystal took me to lunch. It was a fabulous time, and each gift is still something I use today, or wear today. They are part of my treasure horde. Of course, tea in the plaza after school every day was special too. Sigh, I miss you all.

I guess I was busy having a life, and simply didn’t notice time sneaking past at such a rapid rate. Technology has overtaken the simple pleasures, and I miss that. I miss being the mom of growing boys (before teenage hell set in). I miss the summers at the swimming hole with Edie Mae and her girls, and Candy and her boys along with me and my kids. I miss the Plaza with the ladies there and their kids, I miss the women in London and Nottingham, and I miss the dear friends in New Zealand, especially Leah who was more than willing to give me a kick in the attitude when I needed one most. I miss being young and strong physically even if I am old and stronger emotionally and have more wisdom.

The older I get, the less it matters if we celebrate my birthday or not. It is a day I do a lot of reflection on my life. Since it is so close to Christmas, and the anniversary of my baptismal date this month, there always seems to be more important things to focus on. Especially, for me, spiritual matters.

But I still don’t understand how I got from 22 to 62 so darned fast! The upside, is now I have grandchildren, and great grandchildren to love and spoil. I have a husband of 45 years, who has grown up and old with me. And who can still carry on a conversation and debate over all sorts of interesting topics with me, Who still, after all this time, wants to have adventures with me. So, I guess the real trade off of getting old, is that I have had a great life, get to do so much more, and know that life is still full of adventures.

Dinner Conversation


So the husband and I were having dinner the other evening. We had a rather routine conversation for the two of us. I was wondering if any of your conversations go something like this.

We were discussing change of meaning for a particular word over the generations. When it was first used in conversation, it wasn’t considered a rude word at all. Everyone used it, but over the years it became an obscenity, especially for women to utter, or for men to use in mixed company. Then it became pretty much forbidden language for years. Slowly it came back into use, and is now used for just about every part of a sentence, except as an article. Any way, that segued into the discussion of language and its many variations, from early man up to present day. This conversation took about thirty minutes.

Then, along with dessert, we got into a discussion about how writing started. Math is an easy idea, anyone who has more than ten of something needed to know how much they had. So, a line represented so many of such a thing. But then, how did they know what lines related to which item. So, we got into a rather heated discussion about pictograph languages and symbols, or rather, which probably came first. Then we got into how that skill was passed to other generations and other groups. Was it an idea that someone showed a different culture and they adapted to fit their language, or did other cultures come about writing all on their own? That got a bit heated too, mainly because I see it as language based and the husband sees it as an offshoot of mathematics. I can see his point, but I also see a need to communicate information as tribes became cultures and cultures spread out over a geographic area.

As we finished out dessert, and were waiting for our check, we continued discussion language versus math, and how intertwined they were with the development of our modern idea of country, origin, and cultural development. Leading to the difficulty people have today of never being able to be alone. They constantly have to be in contact with someone via their phone and other devices. Which led to the idea that it would be interesting to put a modern gadget junkie in a distant accommodation without any of their go to gizmos to see how they would cope. Take them back to, oh, the early 1940’s and leave them on their own for an agreed amount of time.

About the time the check turned up, I left to use the facilities, and the husband paid the bill and said he would meet me at the car. When I came out the couple sitting behind us stopped me and asked it we were professors. I said no, not now. They said they learned more about prehistory overhearing our conversation than they ever had in class. “How do you guys know all this stuff?” They asked. I just smiled and said, “We read. A lot. About a lot.” “The lady said, “That is so weird. We just talk about the kids.” I smiled again, and made my way to the car.

To us, this was a normal dinner conversation. How is that weird, or is it?

Enough Already


Okay snowflakes and crybullies, enough is enough. It is one thing to protest, you have that right, it is totally different to riot because that crosses the line to illegal activities.

Those windows you broke, the businesses you looted, the cars you destroyed, those belong to someone who works hard for a living. Many of them may have voted for your candidate. In fact, most of them probably did seeing as the areas being looted are in the most liberal cities in the country. How does that help your ’cause’?

All Americans who have been on the opposite side of the results of an election have been disappointed and upset by being on the losing side. But I have yet to see Conservatives tearing up the town to protest their loss. It seems that the majority of them are either too busy working or too busy taking care of family and helping in the community to go out and break things. If they do protest it is by voting or writing a letter to their congressional representatives. It is a futile thing to keep expecting a different outcome from behaving the same way over and over.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr must be turning in his grave to see how people “protest” these days. Dragging a man out of his car and beating him just because he is white and may have voted for Trump, beating a girl at high school because someone in her family voted for Trump (she wasn’t even old enough to vote), beating a 70 some odd man because he shouted All Lives matter and the black woman next to him didn’t like it, all of those are acts of violence. Dr. King was as anti violence as anyone could get. He helped change the world for Black and White people, and this is how you treat his legacy? Really?

To be clear, according to my DNA, I am a multi-race person. I have light skin, light eyes, and silver hair, but I am not just white. Likewise, if you are an American for more than one or two generations, you are probably as mixed race as I am. So that will make you just like me and me just like you. Get over the race thing, it is immature and self defeating. No one respects a bully, and that is what calling everyone racists is doing, bullying.

Get over yourselves all you millennial snowflakes who melt and swoon at the drop of the use a perfectly decent word. When you grow up and leave your protected safe place at university, you will have to go out into the big bad world and work. Guess what, your boss isn’t going to give a rap about how someone micro insulted you. Put on your big boy or girl britches and grow the hell up. The whole micro aggression thing used to be solved easily on the playground around the age of six. “Sticks and stones may break my bones… or it bounces off of me and sticks to you…” Holy cats people, have you really been so wrapped in cotton wool and protected by your helicopter parents that you can’t cope with someone saying something without taking it as an insult or becoming a sobbing mess?

I have noticed, however, that the most easily offended snowflake or crybully is often the first to start screaming invectives and socially unacceptable verbiage as soon as they have two or more bullies at their back. Having a conversation is not allowed due to their allergy to their self perceived micro aggression. Instead, they start throwing things and becoming unmanufactured in the most vicious way possible. Then they whine about racists, sexists, homophobic, people who don’t understand them. Well gee whiz, Wally, get a grip, no one is required to agree with or understand your snit fit.

I am old, to most of you snowflakes, ancient. I don’t agree one whit with the whole concept of safe places, binky, and blanket nonsense that you demand like a bunch of spoiled two year old brats. If you are considered an adult, act like one. Otherwise, go to your safe place and suck your thumb until you can act like one. Enough enough, it is time to get over yourselves.

Stop Saying That!


I was sitting in a café having breakfast this morning when a gaggle of 20ish to 40ish women came in and sat down at the table behind me. They were talking loud and being a bit obnoxious, but I tried to ignore them and read my book while eating breakfast. Soon, however, it became impossible to concentrate because they were talking over each other, squealing, and generally trying to out talk each other. One phrase kept coming up, over and over and over…. “Oh My G-d.” It was used so often I actually started counting the number of times I heard it. In a 25 minute stretch, it was said 44 times by different females, with different vocal expressions. It was used to convey everything from awe to anger, to agreement, to disappointment. It was, quite frankly, annoying beyond words.

I guess that three word phrase is today’s equivalent of earlier generations catch words such as like, you know, just too…whatever. And it is designed to make whomever utters it sound like some empty headed wannabe (another catch word) who has no idea how to make a cogent remark of exclamation.

However, the reason this constant utterance of Oh my G-d bothers me so much is that it seems, well, offensive to those who are Christians. I was taught that to use the word G-d in casual language, or even more so, as part of a swear word, was highly offensive to the Divine. When one calls His name, one is asking for His attention. We say in in reverence and supplication in prayer, we say it in times of dire need for direction or help, we call upon Him in rejoicing and thanks, but we do not simply use His name as an expletive or common exclamation of surprise or shock.

I always remember the prayer of Jesus Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane when he calls out in spiritual agony, “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46, KJV) That is the standard of emotional being that would result in the need to cry out to the Father in such a way. Not just because someone has spoken about a juicy bit of gossip, and everyone responds with equally juicy surprise and avid curiosity for the speaker to tell more.

I recently had an bit of a verbal discussion with a woman who was allowing her children to jump off a retaining wall into a very busy car park. At least I thought she was allowing it. She had her face buried in her phone text messaging. Three other adults asked the children not to jump off the wall because they could get hurt as there was so much traffic. Finally, after the children ignored everyone, I asked where their mother was. They pointed her out. I walked over and told her that her children were in danger of being hit by cars since they kept jumping into traffic, and if she didn’t get off her damned phone, I was going to call the police and let them sort her out. She looked up at me in surprise and said it was none of my business what her children did. I told her it certainly was if I ran over one of them when they ran out in front of me. I calmly started to dial the emergency number, but before I hit send, she screamed, Oh My G-d, what the hell are you doing? I told her, I don’t know what He is doing other than keeping your kids alive, because you are too busy playing on your phone to pay attention to your children. I, however, am trying to get you to be a responsible mother. Then she upped the ante with Oh my F-ing G-d. I responded with the comment that the as far as I knew sex had nothing to do with the conception of Jesus Christ, and the Divine probably wouldn’t have sex with her no matter how much she begged. She threw her hands in the air and stomped off to her car, only remembering to call her children when she was half way there. When I passed her car, she was still texting. And probably using the OMG comment every two seconds. Some times sarcasm is just too intelligent for people to understand.

My point, however, is this. There are many of us who find the causal used of the name of the Divine in common vernacular, to be offensive and rude. Please, just stop and find a better way of expressing yourselves. To me it is just as offensive as being called the N word is to black people. Remember, when you use the word G-d you are asking for the attention of the Father. And if you add the word damn to the first word, you are asking Him to bring damnation down on someone. He probably won’t, but asking him to might bring you more attention that you would care for when you get to the other side. I don’t know about you, but taking on a deity is not my idea of smart.

Demi-gods and Freedom


I believe that everyone has the right to all the freedoms of the land. Because I am an American, I hold those freedoms in great honor. We are a nation built on independent men and women who braved the world and stood fast in their determination to be free in thought, religion, speech, and to do what they must to be happy. To always be forced to put society before one’s family, one’s God, and one’s independence is an abomination to most Americans. Society works because there are laws and checks and balances between the members of that society. It has nothing to do with allowing a government to force the mental enslavement of a people just because whomever is in power thinks they have the right to force others to bend to their will. Therein lies the demi-gods. It is when people are free to choose, to think for themselves, that they are at their best.

Take a look at the so called Dear Leader of North Korea. His country is supposed to be first, but he has turned into an evil tyrant because there are NO checks and balances on his behavior. He is a true sociopath whose evil knows no bounds. Were his people free to refuse to obey him, he would have long since been executed for the killer that he is. It is not all that different from what Hitler did to Germany, only his victims were Jews, Catholic Priests and nuns, homosexuals, gypsy, and anyone that he felt was sub-human. Negating the individual in favor of the society always leaves the leader of that society free to do what ever he or she wishes. All their personal hatred for a person or persons can be indulged in the most inhumane way possible. And of course, those in power will do their best to stay in power in order to control their world.

Without freedom, people have nothing but slavery to the system. Socialism, Communism, Dictatorships, all remove the individual from the formula that creates a robust society. In time, the people give up, stop trying, stop thinking for themselves, and simply plod along through life without hope of a better future. At the expense of independent freedoms, no one will ever be able to become more than what their society allows. That is why so many countries without freedom become third world countries in a few generations. Look at Cuba, and even Russia. (Russian people outside of the larger cities, and even within many of them live third world lives.) Those in power have all the money and riches, not the people. And people certainly don’t have the freedom to find a way to make more or do more unless they do it illegally.

Growth in humanity and their society happens when the individual takes the future into his or her own hands and makes something more from it. Scientist, medicine, flight, inventions, all sorts of new and impressive life saving inventions, including transportation and roads, have happened because people were free to imagine, dream, and then create what comes from that ability to dream. It is the independent individual businessman who comes up with a new idea or way to do something and then makes it available to the entire world that becomes wealthy, not the leaders or government in charge who hordes the inventions and ideas of the people and keep them for the elite or government – or even sell them at a profit and keep the money for themselves.

Because the United States is built on a unique platform of a republic, and because our country was founded by religious fanatics, criminals, and those desperate for a new start, or at least a chance at success, we have a mix of robust, determined, hard headed people who are drenched in common sense, and a dedication to individuality. It is the elite of the decidedly liberal progressive academia who want to “fundamentally change” that which is sacred to the American people. Steeped in self loathing clothed in the rhetoric of high minded tripe, they seek to tear down that which they cannot understand. It is they who must be the leaders, because they know best. It is they who must have and keep the wealth, because the sub-humans around them simply do not have the ability to understand what is best for them. All people, no matter who or what they are, happen to fall beneath their sanctimonious and bitter idea of leadership. In short, they want us to be China, Russia, or North Korea instead of the great country we were, we are, and will be.

I can pretty much guarantee another civil war if the progressive liberals keep pressing to change our fundamental and sacred rights as citizens of the United States of America. Progressive Leftists like Hilary Clinton and her ilk, have, indeed awakened a sleeping giant. Other than the elite academia, the actors from Hollywood, and those under their thrall, most of us in this country still believe and stand firm in the Constitution of the United States of America, and always will.

Boys To Men


One of my pet peeves is seeing people be upset when boys are being, well, boys. I was a Cub Scout Leader for 13 years. I ran day camps for up to 300 eight, nine, and ten year old boys every summer for eight of those years. I loved every minute of it, even when I heard the same silly or gross joke for the umptheenth time, or had to separate to boys who were having their version of a pissing contest for dominance over the group. That was back when boys were in training to be men. Back before the marginalization of boys by the matriarchal society led by the progressive liberals and the out of step feminists, and it was no longer politically correct for boys to be boys.

My husband ran across this from PJTV. http://www.pjtv.com/series/war-on-men-how-masculinity-is-under-attack-in-america-832/boyhood-under-attack-why-boys-cant-just-be-boys-anymore-10924/

He pointed out that,” Today, Tom Sawyer would be in ADHD therapy, and Huck Finn would be in Juvenile Prison.” Today, boys aren’t allowed to ride bikes without helmets and protective gear. Had I tried to force that on my boys, they would have been outraged because I obviously thought they were too inept to ride a bike without hurting themselves. We, as a nation, have made it nearly impossible for boys to become men, living and growing from their natural inclinations and behavior that is embedded in their DNA.

Because boys are loud, dirty, smelly, and politically incorrect; because they run, make noise, climb, pick up gross things like worms, and they fight with each other our society of fearful mothers and fathers are trying to force boys to be something they are not. All of that is genetically part of being male and teaches them how to be hunters, fearless, curious, and innovative thinkers. It also establishes a pecking order that is vital in a hunter/gatherer community. Of which, we are still very much a part. We just hunt and gather different things today. (And the chief is your boss.) BUT all of that natural male inclination is politically incorrect in today’s matriarchal society in modern western countries.

So, to fit in, to keep from embarrassing their community or family, their NATURAL male instincts are cut from their lives, and they are forced into more feminine behavior, along with brain washing that being male is a bad thing. Enslaving the minds and bodies into unnatural behavior makes them act out more. The easiest way to control them is to label them with some sort of disability and drug it away. Along with being unable to just be kids, they ‘lesson and sport’ kids from the time they are five or less. No kid needs to be in ballet at three, no kid needs to be on a team at five. They first need to learn how to play and work together on their own, to create their own social group without helicopter mommy and daddy making sure their darling child is treated fairly. (That means better than others in PC lingo.) We do them no favors by removing them from the natural rhythm of play and forcing them into the unnatural world of competitive passive aggressive sports or lessons. All it does is place more stress in their already submerged and trampled maleness.

Playgrounds are no longer mayhem. No kids running around playing and yelling, no foot races, or natural male competition is allowed. Instead, everything is organized and ‘fair’ (gag) and no one learns to be a leader, problem solver, or how to create relationships. Everything is a passive aggressive competition since out right competition is forbidden as someone has to lose. Yep, we are making our boys weak, immature, and incapable of being men with all their natural abilities. That is how we end up with confused metrosexual guys who aren’t sure what they are, male/female/straight/gay or human.

By labeling everyone with a disability, the kids who really are having problems and really need help are pretty much marginalized and shoved to the back of the line. Besides, don’t you know it is the IN thing to have a kid with a disability? Everyone is trying to get that diagnosis so they have an excuse for why their kids, male or female, is out of control. Personally, I believe that most of those kids just need attention at home, and the occasional kick in the pants for bad behavior, oh, and taught some manners. Parents need to parent and stop being afraid of what the social group they hang out with will think.

And another thing, since I am already on a rant. We need to stop forcing our children to play together when they don’t like each other. If they don’t want to share their toys, especially with a kid they don’t like, stop making them. All it does is to teach them to be confused about their feelings, and to see themselves as the ‘mean or bad’ kid since they are being politically incorrect. I loathe hearing parents to tell their children to ‘play nice’ when they need to be telling them to have fun. As adults it is hard to deal with social situations with people we can’t stand, to force that on a child is beyond cruel.

Another reason so many boys are labeled disabled and on drugs is because it makes easier to control an over crowded classroom of 35 kids. If the kids are drugged, they aren’t a problem for the teachers who are free to teach regurgitative education for the purpose of state tests. There is no need to expect the kids to think, theorize, innovate, or invent, because they are too drugged up to care. Some teachers love that because that means they can meet the goals set out for them with less pressure from the powers that be.

So where does that leave us when they become teenagers who have been given powerful behavior altering medication for years? What happens when they become young men with the natural behavior of males totally squashed and unrealistic social behavior forced on them? It leaves many of them unable to cope with anything.

Aggression is frowned upon, although there is a constant need to prove themselves. Boys turning into men aren’t supposed to be gross and rowdy, they are supposed to be caring and emotional, you know, like girls. That isn’t to say they aren’t caring, but they do not go about it the same as a female. They think differently, and no amount of constant belittling of their maleness will make them think like a woman – they have hardwired DNA.

Where does that leave us? With kids who are used to being drugged up, and incapable of understanding how to cope with feelings and needs. So they self medicate with alcohol or other drugs. They act out in rage that they don’t understand because they have been told from birth that they cannot be angry. It is bad to be angry. To give into anger makes them a bad kid. Instead of having their entire childhood to learn how to cope with emotions and anger, they are taught to deny their feelings. Men, boys, males of all sorts need to have that challenge of other males. They need to have that opportunity to learn how to build a social group that works for them within the boundaries of being a guy among a bunch of other guys. They need that chance to be gross, smelly, dirty, and loud. They need to learn to be men by being boys first.

OK, off my soap box

And so…


The word ‘and’ along with the word ‘so’ are both conjunctions in English grammar. There are many sites on line that explain the use of conjunctions in a proper sentence and their placement in the sentence structure. They are important, along with many other words used to connect thoughts, ideas, actions, and sentences. However, there is a trend in the written and spoken English language of today that drives me batty. That is the use of “and so” as a conjunction or continuation of a conversation. “Jen and I went to the market but I forgot my wallet. And so, she went back to the house to find it for me.” arrrrhhhhggghhhh!!! The proper use would be: “So she went back to the house to find it for me.” Why in the world does anyone need to place the conjunction ‘and’ in front of the conjunction “so?”

I over hear a lot of conversations where one person is telling a story or about an event, and to continue from one part to another, they use ‘and so’ to get there. “Toni tells me that she is never going to give up on that idiot boyfriend of hers, and so I told her that she deserved what she got then. And so, she gets all up in my face and starts yelling about how rotten a friend I was. Whatever, girl, I said, and so I left before it got ugly.” aaaarrrrrgggghhhhh!!!

What the hell are they teaching in schools these days? Certainly not proper grammar or sentence structure. In fact, I think they are doing their best to dumb down the entire subject of grammar to replace it with text speech and spelling. I may go ballistic.

If you see an odd light in the sky followed by an explosion, it will be me finally losing control over poor grammar and the inability of young people to speak and write properly.

Diagram this for me. And so we went home. Where does the punctuation belong? What is the conjunction ‘and’ connecting with so? Is it And so, we went home? Or is it, And, so, we went home? Or is it, And, so went home? Is any of that proper grammar, and can you make a sentence diagram from the comment?

Yes, it makes me crazy, as it would most English Teachers.