I have to chuckle — or maybe frown — at what passes for meaningful human behavior research these days. I read in the news that a couple of researchers at a supposedly prestigious university have determined without a doubt that spanking your children leads to all sorts of social and behavioral maladies later in their lives.
Now, before I go on, let me be specific that there is world of difference between a simple disciplinary spanking as opposed to child abuse. True child abuse is an inexcusable crime against your own children. It should not happen, nor be tolerated.
But, children (and grandchildren, too) need discipline in order to grow up knowing the difference between acceptable and unacceptable social behavior. In my childhood — and for those in my generation — judicial parental discipline wuz a constant in our lives. If you needed it, your parents gave you a swat on your behind to get you understand, and change, your unacceptable behavior.
In my family, Mom kept a maple switch on top of the party line telephone. I found out she’d use it if I misbehaved, therefore, that old maple switch usually dried out to complete brittleness between the times when my bad behavior prompted its use.
But, then Mom applied effective child psychology to my upbringing. If I misbehaved to the point discipline wuz necessary, my wise mother instructed me to go into the yard and find a green switch suitable for my discipline. Talk about a dilemma! Should I pick a long switch or a short one? A thin one or a thick one? The end result wuz that by the time I’d made the decision about the switch, I’d had plenty of time to reconsider my misbehavior that led to the discipline. I’ll add that my Dad disciplined me, too, on occasion, but Mom wuz the real enforcer.
Bottom-line, I wuz never abused, nor did I feel unloved, by my parents’ discipline. But, discipline wuz a definite deterrent that usually kept my behavior within the bounds of acceptability.
With my grandchildren, I found that a simple knuckle-thump to the back of their little misbehaving heads usually sufficed for all the discipline necessary when they visited — and they always wanted to visit.
As I’ve grown older and watched countless kids grow up into adults, it’s the ones who had firm, unwavering parental discipline who turned out to be responsible achievers at home and in their careers. I don’t think the connection is a coincidence.
I’ll get off my lecturing high horse now.
***
Two feedlot pen riders are riding their horses through feedlot slop one dreary, bone-chilling day when they spy the neck of an old bottle sticking up out of the mess of bovine excrement and mud. One cowboy jumps off his horse and picks the bottle out of the slop and gingerly puts it in his saddlebag..
After they finish riding all the pens, the two take the bottle back to the office and show it to the feedlot manager. “Reckon it could be a magic lamp?” one cowboy muses.
“Take the top off of it and find out,” the second chimes in.
So, imagine their surprise when out of the nasty lamp pops a genie wearing cowboy garb. The genie says, “As a token of my eternal thanks for letting me out of that filthy bottle. I’ll give each of you three one wish, but one wish only.”
“Me first! Me first!’ says the first cowboy. “I want to be at the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas in box seats, driving a fancy pickup around, enjoying the luxury of the finest hotel, with money to burn in the casino, without a care in the world.”
In an instant, the cowboy is gone in a puff of smoke.
“Me next! Me next!” says the second cowboy. “I want to own my own extensive ranch in the Flint Hills, raising the best cattle and Quarter Horses to be found, and sharing it all with the love of my life.”
Another puff of smoke and he’s gone, too.
“OK, you’re up,’” the genie says to the feedlot manager. The manager says, “OK, I want those two slackers back on their horses checking pens like they’re supposed to do.”
“Puff,” the manager looks out the window to see the two bewildered cowhands riding their horses out in the muddy slop.
I think the moral to this story is: Always let the boss have the first say.
***
I ain’t got in trouble recently for telling Ole and Sven jokes, so here goes:
Ole is the pastor of a rural Norwegian Lutheran Church. Pastor Sven is the minister of the Swedish Covenant Church across the road. The two men of the cloth are close friends in spite of their competitive houses of worship.
One morning after a flooding rain, they pound a homemade sign into the roadside dirt that reads: “The End is Near. Turn Yourself Around Now Before It’s Too Late!”
Just then a car speeds past them and the driver leans out the window and yells, “Leave people alone you Scandinavian religious nuts!”
A few second later from around the curve, they hear screeching tires and a big splash.
Shaking his head, Rev. Ole says, “That’s the third one this morning.” Pastor Sven nods and says, “Ya’, maybe our sign should just say ‘Bridge Out!’”
***
Remember, sometimes swear words are nothing more than good sentence enhancers. Have a good ‘un.
