Probably will make someone angry today.

Actually, both the ideas I have in my head and I only have two, either one might make someone angry. 

I was asked to speak to a panel of business people at a radio station in Cedar Rapids about kids and what our community had to offer in the line of recreation.  Wear casual clothing I was told.  Pretty informal.

Their pretty informal didn't match my pretty informal.  Shorts and a t-shirt for me.  Business suits for them.  Even the ladies on the panel.

I was one of six or eight going to speak to this group.  We each did it alone.  We each had 15 minutes. One at a time we were called back to the meeting room, we answered questions, told of our jobs, what activities we had available to the youth in our towns, or at least I'm assuming that's what they asked the others.  I never saw them come back out and was wondering if they were burying them in the back lot.  Glad I wore my tennis shoes. I can run pretty fast when I want to.

 I still had about four minutes to spare.  One fellow asked what I thought was wrong with today's youth?  Can I have another 15 minutes please!  Not that I was/am the perfect parent.  Not that my folks are.  I do believe you need to have a child's attention in order for some things to soak in.  How do you get that attention?  A smack across the rearend!  I know some people don't believe in spanking their kids, my folk's did and I didn't turn into a serial killer.  I'm pretty sure my brothers and sister didn't either.  Nor did my daughter.

Sometimes my mom would yell, "You just wait until your father gets home!  You're all going to get a beating!"  And sometimes we would.  Dad wasn't mad at us but by the time mom finished telling him what we did, he was in the mood. (Dad had a collection of belts.  The wide ones weren't so bad but those thinner ones stung like nobody's business!)

One day dad came home from work and you could tell he was tired.  Mom told him to beat us because we were driving her crazy or we were smartmouthed or the four of us fought all day with each other or more than likely, I'm sure, all of the above.  Dad turned to her and said, "You beat them!  They're your kids too!"  You could see this light bulb turn on when mom realized she could.  Oh, crap.  The world was her arsenal.  Whatever she could grab, a wooden spoon, a piece of Todd's Hot Wheels track or if nothing was within reach, a hand on the butt!  Yep.  We were doomed.

They got our attention.  We knew how far we could push those buttons and we did.  We aren't scarred for life.  We were not locked in a dark closet for days with no food.  It wasn't child abuse. Our bad behavior was met by punishment not pills from the doctor saying we had ADD or ADHD.  I'm not saying there aren't cases of ADD, I'm saying some people might use that as an excuse.  That's what one parent said to me when I let her know her darling fifth grade son told me to "f--- off!"  "Well, he has ADD."  In my book he's lucky I didn't knock his head off right then and there.  There were too many witnesses.

After an 'attention getting', my dad would say, "If you want to run away, go pack your bags and I'll give you a lift to the corner."  You couldn't help but smile even though you didn't want to.  All was forgotten.  All was forgiven.