Blog : How Did We Survive to Adulthood?

How Did We Survive to Adulthood?

11/20/2007 11:18 am

Dear Friends,

As I reflect on the beginning of the traditional Christmas shopping season, I can't help but wonder how I ever lived to be an adult.

The newscasts, morning shows, and web sites all have massive headlines and dire warnings about all the toys that are NOT considered safe to buy for children this Christmas.

As a boy, from the age of seven, I assembled model cars and planes from which I never choked on the parts, never got high from glue fumes, and was never poisoned by the paints or thinners.

My Johnnie Eagle military M14 rifle and my Dick Tracy .38 snub-nose revolver both had "real" firing bullets that seated into spring-loaded shells that actually fired from the barrel, and yet nobody ever lost an eye.

Neither did I or my friends ever suffer maiming from the ignition of cap guns, sparklers, snap poppers or firecrackers.

I owned every conceivable Matchbox and Hot Wheels car with never so much as a hint of lead poisoning. (Was I really that unique a child in having figured out that steel items were not edible, and therefore didn't put them in my mouth?)

When by the age of 10 I was left to my own unsupervised devices with a fully stocked chemistry set, I failed to either blow up or burn down the house.

By the time model rocketry reared it's head at age 11, never did any explosion or limb loss occur from accidents with the solid fuel rocket engines. (These are the same little gems that bomber Mark Hofmann used to set off his killing bombs in Salt Lake City...larger versions of which were the demise of the Space Shuttle challenger)

I rode bicycles sans training wheels from the age of 5, motorcycles from the age of 11, and drove open dune buggies from the age of 15, yet have never suffered a broken arm or leg in my entire life.

I received my first REAL rifle when I was 8, and my first handguns when I was 11. From age 12 on, I was allowed to shoot unsupervised and on my own whenever I wanted because my Dad drilled the rules into me for those first formative years enough to make me always obey the rules and use good judgment. (What a concept...actually RAISING responsible children! Isn't THAT a lost art in this day and age of "everyone's a victim" and nobody accepts responsibility for their actions?)

So we ponder...how did we ever survive playtimes to grow to adulthood? In closing, have a Merry Christmas. Here's to hoping a wonderful season for your children and grandchildren...assuming they can be content with socks, books, and a new lunch box...the only three items that consumer protection hasn't banned as unsafe.

BroadcastDeejay

universallylost

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