And Yet, I'm Alive. . .

Thank God I’m alive. I had no idea what for a dangerous life I’ve lived until busybodies started telling me. How could the adults in my life have been so careless. . . I should sue someone.

What am I talking about? Well, let me go down the list. I owned a car without seat belts. Yep, a 1961 Ford Falcon. Sure, it took 20 minutes to get to 60 mph, but its dashboard was pure steel baby. Want more? I never had a helmet for my bike. I even had three serious falls, two on my head. I’m still not sure how I lived through that. More? Ok, I played dodgeball, wiffleball, kickball and red rover. I even had flammable pajamas and toys I could fit into my mouth all the way through high school! No, I’m not some sort of daredevil, I’m just an innocent victim. Sniff sniff.

Ok, enough of this crap. I am truly sick of the modern thinking that kids need to be bubble wrapped. Seriously, W.... T.... F....?!

When I was kid, we still enjoyed a good deal of freedom vis-à-vis the world. But not today. Helmet laws make parents criminals if they don’t strap their kids in before putting them to bed. Dodgeball was yanked from schools years ago after it was designated a crime against humanity after some assh~le decided someone could get hurt by that huge soft, rubber ball floating through the air with all the force a flabby nine year old can muster. . . clearly, this was not a physics major.

Recently, New York State “Health Department” losers tried to ban wiffleball, kickball and red rover. Why? Because they’re “dangerous.” Seriously? Have you ever seen a mobster use a red rover technique to do anyone in? "Hey, red rover, send Jimmy the Weasel over." And do you know how hard it is to hurt someone with a wifflebat? Trust me, you can beat for hours without breaking the skin! Stick with aluminum bats, they're easier and nothing satisfies quite like that great ringing sound.

This is ridiculous. When I was a kid, people understood that slamming into things and falling from moving vehicles was all part of life. Sure, you could get hurt. But serious injuries were incredibly rare, and were well worth the risk of enjoying your childhood. To sort of quote Evel Kneival: “Bones heal, chicks dig scars, pain is temporary and the character you build in childhood is forever.”

These days, it seems that any time you engage in any activity that involves motion or touching, some whiny, failed parent is out there screaming how their kid is too delicate to endure the horror that they might end up with a skinned knee or hurt feelings. Pathetic. How can kids possibly grow up to handle anything if “parents” try to put them into bubble wrap to keep away the insidious forces of gravity, friction and childhood?

And if you are one of these people who is growing one of these delicate creatures, note I did not say “raising,” all you are producing is an effete victim-in-waiting. Congratulations. You have failed as a parent.

What's even worse, did you hear about the 10 year old kid who was arrested because he found a broken BB gun on school grounds and dared to play with it? Yep. Arrested, taken away in cuffs, spent 2 days locked up, appeared in court shackled, and was charged with a felony. Now school officials are trying to expel him. . . at least it wasn't a dodgeball, these dipsh~ts probably would have tried to hang him. The principal, the arresting officer, and the prosecutor seriously should all lose their jobs or worse.

Maybe we need a gulag for idiots?