Facebook, and Friending And Spanking

I was unfriended by some one on Facebook the other day. While no one wants this to happen, most of the time it is of no consequence. We "meet" people online and in Facebook all the time and mostly these things are of no consequence. However, sometimes we find some one and we follow and develop a friendship, or a common bond. The Samuality provided a source of information on many different subjects and he also was a source of really cool cosplay photos. Being a middle aged guy, who likes fantasying about being a hero with scantily clad hotties around him, I appreciated this.

Lately anti-bullying has been very prominent in the media. Churches, schools and various civic groups have been strongly advocating ways to mitigate bullying practices. As a parent I am concerned with this as my child is going to public school and a big portion of the problem takes place there. Our disassociation was not related to our feelings concerning in-school bullying, but from a profound disagreement in parenting practices.

In a nutshell, I think the Samuality believes that touching a child in a corporal manner, to enforce a matter of discipline, is tantamount to beating and abusing one's child. We are talking about spanking here. I am of the opinion that spanking is a proven way to enhance positive disciplinary techniques.

The Samuality has some very strong feelings on this subject, as do I. Having said that, I acknowledge that I was on his site and disagreeing with him on a very emotional subject. It is true that he has the ability and "right" to unfriend me for any reason. I have seen him do this on a few occasions and for the most part I either agreed with the banishment or did not have a strong enough opinion to make a stand. (no it as not because I was being wishy-washy on a subject. There are times when I do not have enough information on a subject to feel comfortable in making a stand. Discipline and punishment however, is a subject I can talk about.)

I did a little research on the subject and have taken notes from three articles, The Great Spanking Debate, Disciplinary Spanking: When and How to Use It  and AMERICAN ACADEMY OF PEDIATRICS

Guidance for Effective Discipline. It turns out that the general consensus on the subject ranges from, "It is a bad thing to spank your child, we need a kinder gentler world and we need to bring up our children in a manner that reflects that attitude." to, "We need to toughen up our children so they will be ready for the cruel world out there."

Of course I fall someplace in the middle.

In my research I saw every one agreeing that it is the parents job to bring their child up in a responsible manner. Some say it is irresponsible to hit one's child because it fosters aggressive behavior and violence. The reasoning goes something like, my parents hit me, so I can too, and I can hit other people too. The other side of the argument says something like I need to get my kid's attention and this is the only way to do it. 

I am not going into the subject of over zealous parents who abuse their children. They should have the same brutality meted out to them.

In the three articles I read the consensus was corporal punishment should be administered  only when every other means of discipline were exhausted. Just as importantly, the expression of it should be done in an unexcited manner. The parent should never do it as a form of revenge. In my case as a parent, I told my child that if she did not stop doing something then she would be spanked. This of course was after repeated attempts to stop her aberrant behavior. She was given two chances to stop the behavior and when the third one came she would be spanked with little notice. Something like, “I have told you to stop and you have not, now I will spank you and you will stop it." I was very lucky with my Runtyun and had to do it only once or twice.

This kind of augmentation of verbal discipline is OK, in my humble opinion. But when a parent uses spanking as the primary form of teaching a child, then we see the escalation of the child turning to the dark side, i.e. anger against their parents, and bullying others.

What I am saying is spanking, if done with care and parental judgment and not in anger or with malice, is a positive way to enforce a parents will on their child. Now if there are those out there that think a parent does not help to form a child into a responsible adult and that sometimes the kid does not want to do what he is told, then we DO have a problem.

I need to make myself clear here, there is a huge difference between disciplining a child and beating one. Discipline is a standard developed by the parent, while abuse is a parent's inability to control their own temper.

Now back to my unfriending by the Samulality. Honestly Sam, I see your action as a form of bullying. You want me to think in only your way and if I don't, I will be forced out of your little club. (A form of bullying)

I will miss your postings and even your friendship, but I do not accept your hypocrisy.

At least one good thing happened because of this situation, I did a little studying and bolstered my feelings concerning soaking.

olc

Lament

             I have had delusions of grandeur for the last few years. Truth is I really don’t want to work for someone else, I want to write for a living. I think I have interesting ideas and I have deluded myself into thinking that others may be interested in them.

Seems I am wrong in that assumption.

When I post on any of my blogs; A Daddy Grows Up: A Chronicle of Our Journey, Rants and Brain Echoes, My Rantings (a journal of thoughts), or even just update my status on Facebook, I get a smattering of views and almost no comments. Much less any follows.

I spend a good amount of time writing these posts and most of the them are pertinent to something going on outside of this electronic box. I always want to have feed back from my readers and most of the time ask for it in the post. Yet I get very little. I want feed back on the content and style, yet all I get is encouragement with no editorial rebuttal.

I’ll keep on trudging along writing here and working on my fictional writing too, but it sure would be nice to get some followers and comments, so please read and let me know what you think. I even want to know if you, the reader, will never look at a posting of mine again. Just let me know and maybe an indication on better writing, or more interesting topics, anything that could help me in rise to journalistic sufficiency. 

Thanks, olc 

My View of Father's Day

Father’s day

On Father’s Day we see so many posts about the love and guidance we get from our fathers. We hear testimonials from children describing how their fathers have positively, or negatively, in some cases, influenced their lives. We have T.V. Programs dedicated to the love we have for our male parent. What I don’t see very often is something by the father evoking his love of the gift of being a father.

The day she was born, I was in the room and saw the doctor cut her mothers tummy open. The room was calm and ordered. All the attendants were professional and understated. Her Mom was sedated yet conscience and we talked a little about the procedure and our future.

There was a little excitement when the baby was pulled out of her mothers’ tummy, yet it seemed so routine to every one in the room. To me, it was anything but routine.

I had helped to create a new life. What had I done? All of my adult life I had avoided this very thing, yet there she was, warm and swaddled, in my arms looking at me. I thought her eyes said something like, “Here I am, you better take good care of me.”

I remember going to work at Doc’s and closing the place, then heading to the hospital and merely sitting with that precious little thing wondering how I was going to deal with this HUGE responsibility I had created. The nurses on the floor seemed to think I was doing well, when I would go to their room, they always said, “Hello Mr. Turner,” and smiled.

The truth is, for the first few years of The Runtyun’s life I failed my oath as a father. Though I came home after work everyday and doted over my precious charge, I was drowning in selfishness and self-destruction. Yet through it all, I tempered my excesses, knowing that there was a precious life dependent on me and my ability to get my shit together.

After many trials and much pain, one day I just realized that if I did not stand and grow up, my precious charge was going to be taken. I am still a selfish ass and still deal with demons on a daily basis. However, I do it after I have taken care of my small family.

As a father, I can see the world from a fresh place. She does not have my history to shade her every thought. Her brain is fresh and unpoisoned by my life's influences. Seeing a squirrel jumping from branch to branch, chasing another, or sitting on a branch nibbling an acorn, is new and exciting to her! I get to experience the wonders of the world with her all over again!

My little Runtyun continually brings a smile to my scowling face. She will say something, out of the blue that just brings reality back to my clouded view. Her thinking is not jaded by a personal history yet, so she sees things in ways that I have forgotten. 

When we go places and she looks at me to explain something, it is with the wide eyed trust of innocence and love. In the past, I have betrayed that trust, but she is strong and seems to have an inner strength guiding her and sometimes me, in the right direction. 

When I wake in the morning, the first thing I do is look in on her while she is still sleeping. Oh, she is so innocent and sweet. My heart cries out to her. I have done the things I have done, and it is my fortune to look ahead, yet learn from those things and build a future for my precious little Runtyun.

This is Father's Day and I treasure the love, trust and responsibility of being a Father. My bundle of swaddled baby is growing up, yet she still comes to me and asks questions that will help define her for the rest of her life.

I have grown and matured with my little one and I see her love of me in her eyes. I am a lucky man to have her in my life. I just hope I am worthy of her trust and love. 

Mostly though, I hope I will be there for her, when she needs me, like my Father is.

olc

Ten years ago this weekend

It had been a rough patch, those last few months. Maybe though, things were beginning to look up. I had a new job, The Runtyun’s mother seemed to have a good position. The Runtyun herself, was my pride and smile. Even the space shuttle, Columbia was completing another successful mission. Little did I know, like the shuttle, my life was going to crash and burn.

Like most people, I did not really know what the shuttle was doing up there in space, nor did I really understand the calamity my life was crashing into. The shuttle was coming down that day and I was watching T.V. idly passing time before work while waiting for my babies' mother to come home and take the dayshift while I worked away at the new job.

She was late, very late. The shuttle had gone missing and I was missing from my new job. The Runtyun was sleeping away, I could hear her soft breathing while updates were coming in. I would go over to her trying to find calm from her sweet and innocent slumber despite the inner flame burning my life away.

In a way I was a little luckier than the rest of the world, I had an idea where she was and it was not at work, while every one else could only wonder and worry about the missing shuttle. 

Yes, it was ten years ago, on the same day the shuttle Columbia developed a hole in it’s wing disintegrating at 17,000 miles per hour, though my life took longer  to crumble and burn. Ye,t like the Phoenix, well maybe not as dramatically, I was able to re-incarnate into a better person, a more mature parent.

My destiny became more real to me when the shuttle crashed. I could see the direction my life was taking, yet like the shuttle, I was headed down a course that seemed inevitable. Destiny, it seemed, had taken control for the moment. Like the shuttle, my life became a fiery testament to misdirection. Hot emotions and flames of stone took over for a time. Yet, after a time of tempering and rebirth, I was lucky to find myself.

Now, I am the man and father I am supposed to be.

A Funny Thing Happened

I finally dragged The Runtyun out of bed---around noon. Well, at least I know she slept well. The day was beautiful and we needed to get outside and enjoy the world. We shoveled food into our gapping maws, then settled into the eternal discussion: What Are We Gonna Do Today?

Before the inevitable, “I dunno” could be voiced, I said let’s go for a walk! This always gets her interested (it is forbidden to say, “Let's go for a hike.” Go figure.) So we got the bike rumbling and rolled on down to a path by the river. I guess we were not the first to have this idea. There were many bikes, walkers and runners too. My favorite was the woman on a bike with her dog on a leash. Let’s just say that squirrels are a hazard to ADHD dogs and their people leashed to them.

We walked under the high way over pass, Interstate 40. I thought I heard some birds up in the rafters, so I looked up. As usual, my sense of vertigo caused me to step backwards. That is when I told The Runtyun to be careful she might get a little… a Daddy’s reflexes are a funny thing. I truly am not sure how I knew she was about to spin out of control, but the Daddy Hand caught her just in time.

“What happened?” came the question.

“Just tried to tell about that, kid. Vertigo is a funny thing.”

“I just looked and then...what happened,” came the giggled reply. She shrugged off my steadying hand, but grabbed it with hers. 

We walked on a little further, my leg was getting sore and the limp that is been growing was becoming more prominent. I did not want to end the walk, we spend so little time without other distractions and I liked what we were doing.

“Let’s go to the river arts district. We can walk around there,” she blurted.

Walking back to the bike, I asked her if she still wanted to pursue a career in art. She said that they had taken a career test that indicated lawyer or cleric of some kind. I suggested maybe she could be an artist as a hobby.

“Daddy, let’s just ride,” a dream come true!

We made our way to Rt 151, a short road giving access to Hominy Valley and finally the Blueridge Parkway. This is a great ride with many turns and a switchback or two and a few short straights. In fact, the DOT has decided to post something like 35 speed limit signs in a 3 mile stretch on this road.

We rumbled and screamed and scraped our way up to the Parkway. The ride was nice, I had my daughter with me and she asked for the it. Of course we could not talk while riding, yet I knew she was paying attention to the ride, her reactions were perfect, she held close and read what was going on. 

The bike was running well too. It accelerated and slowed with little input from me. The roar of the engine excited my blood and mind. The three of us made it to the top and readied ourselves for the calmer ride down the Parkway. The gate was closed!

“O well, I guess we need to go back down this one,” I said.

“It’s OK Daddy, I can take it,” my helmet nearly busted, my smile was so big!

The ride down was a mirror image of the one up, though the pegs scrapped more and I could feel my little one squirming more. Finally we made it to a little convenient store and we unwound our legs for a minute. Some guy talked with us. He wanted to tell me about his bike in New Orleans. We talked for a bit, then my friend Don, pulled up, guess he lives in the area. Finally, The Runtyun and I talked for a country minute. There was nothing deep or fatherly uttered from my lips, she asked no profound questions about the reason for life. We were just two people enjoying a moment.

I have always wondered how The Perfect Moments in life were achieved. We found it. It was just me and my daughter sitting and riding on an incredibly beautiful early spring day. No angels singing, no fanfare for the common biker, (or daddy), no bright lights, just a smile and trust between to people.

Olc

Let’s just forget about the kids

Anyone who listens to the news has heard about the scandal surrounding sex abuse and the Catholic Church. How horrific is it that the teachers of morality are corn holing innocent children, kids who are taught by their parents to trust and love their priests? Even more importantly though is the institutional coverup of these perverts. As disturbing as it is, the abuse of trust by both the individuals perpetrating these horrendous deeds and the subterfuge initiated by their superiors, the victims and their families seem to be only an ancillary subject, not the main issue.

Yet, the trust given to these perverted people, leaders in their communities, bastions of moral and spiritual idolatry, is betrayed by these monsters who use Faith as a backdrop for their perversions. What is worse, there seems to be some kind of institutional understanding to protect these perverts who defile the youth they are supposed to lead.

In my research for this post, I forced myself to read a number of published articles about the abuse of children, more specifically the abuse perpetrated by Catholic priests. Almost everything I read had to do with how the “conspiracy” was perpetrated. Using  statistics to illustrate, it seemed like they were trying to take the personal damage done by these perverts and make it merely numbers. Yet the truth is kids were damaged by these acts of depravity. The kids are not numbers, but real living, vulnerable children who trusted their robed and anointed leaders.

Their trust was misplaced and rewarded with vile wickedness. Maybe we could learn to forgive and forget the transgression, yet what about those who were violated, why should they forgive or forget? I think the Bible says something about an eye for an eye, I wonder if that kind of justice can be meted to those who taught that lesson. 

In my research for this post I read about cover-ups, the moving of priests from one place to another to hide their vile acts, even edicts by the “very top” of the chain to correct the problem of defiling innocent children who trusted their priests, yet in nothing did I see any explanation as to HOW THESE VILE ACTS COULD BE PERPETRATED in the first place!

Yes, I am upset about this sad state of affairs in the largest Christian institution in the world. Catholics control religious doctrine throughout the world, they control whole economies and the thinking of so many people, yet they cannot keep their penises in their  robes! Yet they feel they have the moral obligation to tell their minions what is morally right and wrong.

Who are they to be the moral compass of the world! I understand there is only a small percentage of actual vile, perverted Priests who violate their flock, but they are being hidden by the majority. There is a conspiracy to create a false image of those perverts---to make the Church look good!

All the while the innocent “lambs”---the churches flock is getting RAPED by the lies issued by Bishops and others more powerful!

The words of a band called P.O.D. in their song,

Youth of the Nation 

Maybe this kid was reaching out for love

Or maybe for a moment he forgot who he was 

Or maybe this kid just wanted to be hugged

Whatever it was, I know it’s because

We are, we are the youth of the world

Who’s to blame for the lives that tragedies claim

No matter what you say it don’t take away the pain

That I feel inside, I’m tired of all the lies

Don’t nobody know why it’s the blind leading the blind

I guess that’s the way the story goes

Will it ever make sense, somebody’s got to know

There’s got to be more to life than this

There’s got to more to everything I thought exits 

We are, we are the youth of the world

More than the boys and girls violated are effected by these vile acts of depravity, one way or another almost every one in our world is effected by them. Maybe the first step toward healing, is for the Church to admit, publicly and vociferously the depths to which it is involved in the cover up and misinformation it is involved in.

Until then there are thousands of kids suffering because the Catholic Church chooses to hide the truth. Those poor kids hurt in a way no child should.

olc