Gleefully lifted from this guy, a cantankerous old electrical engineer, comes a reminder those of us at or over a certain age have seen a time or two:

By the lights of those who regulate because “It’s for the children”, those of us who were kids in the 50s and 60s shouldn’t have survived.

Our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paint.

Our gasoline contained lead (and such a pretty pink color…)

There was nothing to stop us from sticking a fork in an electrical outlet.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets.
We didn’t wear helmets when riding our bikes.
Not to mention hitchhiking.

We rode in cars with no seat belts or air bags.

Riding in the back of a pickup truck … well, that’s what the back of pickups were for.

We drank water from a hose.

We ate cupcakes, bread and butter, and drank pop with real sugar in it – but we were never overweight because we were always outside playing. (and we were outside from: “You kids go outside and play” until dark)

We shared one soft drink from one bottle with four friends and no one got sick from this.

We spent hours building go-carts and other such out of scraps and then rode down the hill, only to find out we didn’t think about brakes. Sometimes we’d add them before the second run – or not.

Shall we speak of toboggans?

We would leave home in the morning and play all day; we weren’t expected back until the street lights came on.

The bottom of the slide was hard dirt – and the slide was hot metal. We burned and bumped – and did it again.

No one was able to reach us all day. No one much was looking for us or worried about us either

We didn’t have computers, video games, no cable, no movies outside the movie theatre, or Internet chat rooms (and no blogs to read). All three channels on TV were black and white and went off the air about midnight.

We had friends. We went outside and found them. They were live and in person.

We played dodge ball, and sometimes, the ball would really hurt.

When the mean lady down the street grabbed our arm and walked us home to complain to our parents about something we did, our parents got upset.
At us.

We fell out of trees, got cuts, broke bones and teeth, and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

They were accidents. No one was to blame but us. Remember accidents?

When we had guns and knives at school, they were for show and tell.

Sometimes our self-esteem got bruised. No one worried about it – we didn’t know what self-esteem was.

We had fights and punched each other and got black and blue and learned to get over it.

We made up games with sticks and tennis balls and ate worms and mud pies, and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out eyes and the worms didn’t live forever.

Our “permanent record” didn’t exist except by word of mouth among our teachers.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s home and knocked on the door, rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them. “Hi Mrs Jones, is Jimmy here?”, “Not yet Billy. Want a cookie while you wait?”

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team.
Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment.

Some students weren’t as smart as others, so they failed a grade and were held back to repeat the same grade.

Tests were not adjusted for any reason.

We kept score. Most often, we lost. We worked harder for the next game. Sometimes we lost that one as well. Didn’t matter how many teams we had, there was still only one winner.

Our actions were our own. Consequences were expected.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law.

Our generation produced some of the best risk-takers and problem solvers and inventors, ever.

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.

It’s Saturday. Why are you reading this? Go outside and play! And I don’t want to see you back here until the streetlights are on!

Chat ya later…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, don’t buy or breed cats or dogs while homeless pets die (spay, neuter & adopt a pet, one by one, until there are none), Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

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Got a coupon in the paper – actually, TMBWitW found it – for a $14.95 oil change through AAA Auto. Cool, I thought – it requires you to make an appointment, but other than that, what could go wrong? Up to 5 quarts of 5W30, standard oil filter, some level of safety inspection … make the call, luck into a 1300 slot that was vacated just moments prior to my call, and we’re all done but the waiting to go.

I got up there a little ahead of time – about 10 minutes, plenty of time to get checked in and wait for the oil change. Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I can change the oil in my car in about 20 minutes if I take my time. That includes checking other fluid levels (tranny, radiator, differential) and making sure all the parts are still bolted in the proper spots.

The young man at the check in counter told me it would be from sixty to ninety minutes for the oil change. “Really? It takes ya’ll an hour to an hour and a half to change the oil and check a few things?” He started in on how comprehensive the safety check was, when I asked him if there would be a test drive by the mechanic. Nope, not included. I asked how they could make any money if they burned a repair bay for $15 for an hour and a half. He looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I rephrased – “How can you make any money if you only charge ten dollars an hour for an oil change and safety check? Do your techs only get paid minimum wage or less?”

I politely declined the opportunity to sit in the waiting room and be bombarded by AAA commercials and sales pitches. I’ll be hitting a locally owned franchise oil change shop a little later today instead.

Chat ya later…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, don’t buy or breed cats or dogs while homeless pets die (spay, neuter & adopt a pet, one by one, until there are none), Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

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Last week, there was some discussion about the First Wooky “Lady” shopping at Target, like all us regular folk (except those of us who prefer supporting locally owned businesses) and whether or not the photo was “staged” for the AP “photographer” who just happened to be in the right place at the right time at the right angle with the right lighting to “snap” a photo of epic importance – the First Wooky “Lady” is out and away from Secret Service! – and don’t mind the fact that she is portrayed as carrying her own bag while pushing an empty cart back to the doors.

I know, it’s totally fake, right?

All that said, the discussion soon turned (on conservative, truth-seeking blogs, anyway) to whether or not the picture was even authentic. I have here evidence that the shot was photoshopped:

Thanks to Lucianne.com for allowing this blatant borrowing of the picture.

Almost forgot! Gotta put this in there somewhere …

Chat ya later…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, don’t buy or breed cats or dogs while homeless pets die (spay, neuter & adopt a pet, one by one, until there are none), Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

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When you wake up in the morning to the sound of a cat depositing a hairball on the floor next to your bed, and then get to clean up the cat puddle on the bathroom floor, nothing else can happen to dampen your spirits …

(as always, click on the image to embigify – credit to the ARRA News Service for the cartoon)

Chat ya later…

Thank you for stopping by, In GOD We Trust, God bless you all, don’t buy or breed cats or dogs while homeless pets die (spay, neuter & adopt a pet, one by one, until there are none), Wear Red on Fridays, and support Warriors for Innocence!

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