Posted on 03/27/2003 10:45:49 AM PST by Trident/Delta
I don't know if this has been posted, but after reading it, I just felt compelled to share.....
Think about it.....
"I Can't Believe We Made It"!
According to today's regulators and bureaucrats, those of us who were kids in the 40's, 50's, 60's or 70's, probably shouldn't have survived.
Our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paint.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors, or cabinets, and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets.
Not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.
As kids we would be carted around in cars with no seat belts or air bags and riding in the back of a truck on a warm day was always a special treat.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then rode down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes.
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on and no one was able to reach us because cell phones hadn't been invented.
We fell out of trees, got cut and broke bones and teeth, and there were no law suits from these accidents. They were accidents. No one was to blame, but us...Remember accidents?
We had fights and punched each other and got black and blue and learned to get over it.
We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle. We ate cakes, bread and butter, and drank sugar cordial but we were hardly ever overweight ... because we were always outside playing and although we shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle, no one actually died.
We did not have Play stations, Nintendo, X-Boxes, video games at all, 99 channels on cable, video tape movies, surround sound, personal cell phones, personal computers, Internet chat rooms...we had friends.
We went outside and found them. We rode bikes, roller skated, or walked to their homes and stood in front and yelled for them to come out to play, or knocked on the door, rang the bell or just walked in to visit them.
Imagine such a thing.
Without asking a parent!
By ourselves!
Out there in the cold cruel world!
How did we do it?
We made up games with sticks and tennis balls and ate worms and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes, nor did the worms live inside us forever.
Tests were not adjusted for any reason. Some students weren't as smart as others so they failed a grade and were held back to repeat it.
And the next time they usually passed.
Our actions were our own. Consequences were expected and there was no one to hide behind. The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law. And despite...or, perhaps, because of all this...this generation has produced some of the most outstanding risk-takers, problem solvers, innovators and inventors, ever.
The past 50 years has seen an explosion of advancement and new ideas.
Why?
Because we were given freedom and responsibility: the chance to succeed and to fail. And we learned how to make the most of what we were given.
If you were one of us, congratulations!
If you weren't, Just ask anyone that was.
This is all true!
Excellent post! Like Archie and Edith used to say, "those were the days..."
My mom used to ORDER us to go outside and play for hours on end...all the neighbors would look out for each others' kids. My brothers and I would come home with cuts, bruises, and all types of scrapes. We didn't rush to the ER or whine about it like today's kids do.
No wonder there's so many fat-assed, diabetic, lazy kids around today. Sitting at home with their Xboxes, chatting online or on their cell phones.
If you're too afraid to take risks, then you'll be more susceptible to harm.
Miracle of miracles, I didn't grow up an assassin, didn't kill Gramma, and I still have all my fingers and toes.
Political Correctness instead WILL kill you because it atrophies the independent mind and confuses the rational thought process.
Truth will set you free - and keep you healthy.
LOL - But I'm not a kid anymore either!
We also used to go to little league games on our own on our bicycles, and play without our parents watching (thank God!).
A couple of times, a friend of mine and I in 4th grade biked the 8 miles to our school outside the city in Miquon.
At age 13, my dad gave us the run of the city and the surrounding area (Philadelphia), at least as far as our bike or the bus or trolley would take us, with the main rule being come home for dinner at 6. So now I could bike 6 miles to the hobby shop in Jenkintown on my own, including biking on suburban roads with no shoulder or sidewalk and biking down the side of the 4 lane divided highway (oh the horrors!).
When we really wanted to have fun, my dad took us around to places we otherwise could not get into, like climbing up the huge abandoned cranes at the defunct Girard Point grain terminal in S. Philly to catch the views.
Dad (who was a chemist) also brought home the necessary chemicals when we wanted to make gunpowder, and beakers of liquid nitrogen for "experiments" on our insect compatriots.
This was 1977-1990. My wife can't believe the freedom I had. Like running down to the next block on my own at age 3 1/2 to go visit my best friend.
I had no idea what "The Banana Splits" or "Lancelot Link - Secret Chimp" was until much later. On Saturdays in the summer, I would ride my bike to the pool for the swim meet and be there by 8:00. Sometimes before the meet would end but after my last race, I would jump on my bike and "air-dry" on the way to my baseball game. The coach used to laugh at the wet spots on my uniform from my still damp speedo underneath. Of course, after the game, I would head home and 9 times out of 10 the lawnmower was sitting out in the driveway waiting for me.
Now as for the rest of the week during the summer, Mom would escort us out the door shortly after breakfast around 7:30 to 8:00 in the morning and we'd hear the lock "click" behind us. Around noon we'd come back for "lunch" and Mom would toss a box of saltines out the kitchen window and point to the spigot for some nice cold refreshing water! She wasn't opening that door for nobody unless you were bleeding severely and even then she would come out with a wet rag, some rubbing alcohol and one of those 4 inch wide bandaids to slap on you, wipe away your tears and send you back into the fray. Reluctantly, I would turn to head back out and, naturally, the next thing I would here is that lock "clicking" behind me...
"Man, I wish I still had those cars, they would be collector items now", he told me. I asked him what happened to them, and he said "we built roads and tunnels in the dirt and blew them up with firecrackers!!" LOL!!
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