Friday, March 23, 2018

Back in My Day

When we were kids, we used to drink water straight from the garden hose. We used to ride bikes without helmets, and try to jump bike ramps that were poorly constructed of plywood and concrete blocks. We addressed our elders as “Sir,” “Ma’am,” or “Grand Inquisitor.” And we didn’t spend afternoons sitting in the house playing Xbox or PlayStation. We created our own weapons out of baseball bats and motorcycle chains, and we engaged in life-or-death battles with the Macleod clan, with whom we had been at war since time immemorial. And we didn’t hide under the covers in bed playing with our iPhones. We spent most nights on the roof of the house or in the attic, fending off attacks from eldritch squamous horrors that craved the flesh of our youngest. Instead of learning “common core” at schools, we were versed in practical matters:  haruspicy, the making of Greek Fire, and the curing of raw hides and skins.

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