Brought up on Drugs
The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a
methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining
county and he asked me a rhetorical question, "Why didn't we have drug
problems when you and I were growing up?"
I replied: I had a drug problem when I was young. I was drug to church
on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals.
I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults.
I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie,
brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of
the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my best effort in
everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if
I uttered a profane four letter word.
I was drug out to pull weeds in Mom's garden and flower beds and
cockle burs out of Dad's fields.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out
some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline,
or chop some firewood, and if my mother had ever known that I took a
single dime for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins; and they affect my behavior in
everything I do, say, and think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack,
or heroin: and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem,
America would be a better place.
(On a side note -- I don't know who wrote this, but if they want credit, let me know and I will get there name posted here. I also believe every word of this and that the world would be a different place if we had more "drugs".)