Archive for the ‘Wussification of America’ Category

California – Controversy erupts at Vista Del Lago High School in Folsom over students chanting “USA.”

It’s a popular way to for students to show pride during sporting events and rallies, but school and district officials are now warning students that the chants could appear inappropriate and intolerant. The chants are now causing chatter campus-wide after school staff brought up the topic to a leadership class.

The school’s principal told students and parents that sometimes “We can communicate an unintended message.” She also said USA chanting is welcome, but it may be best to do it at what she says are appropriate times, like following the national anthem or the Pledge of Allegiance.

The district says there has never been a complaint about USA chants at the high school. Students say there’s likely to be a lot of chanting at this Friday’s football game, where the theme is USA pride.

Well for the love of all that is holy and good WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? We can’t be proud of out country? And who in the world is a USA chant going to offend? The three foreign exchange students from North Korea? The ISIS guy hiding under the bleachers? I’d say no to both because they’re not at the game and if they were we should do it anyway because WE’RE IN THE USA! Sweet Mother of God.

PS- The first person who blames this on wimpy liberals is going to get punched in the throat by this non-wimpy liberal.

Advertisements

(Source) — A former Los Altos High School student and baseball player is suing the school district and his former coach for hundreds of thousands of dollars because the coach repeatedly benched him. According to the suit, the school’s head varsity baseball coach, Gabriel Lopez, repeatedly refused to let 17-year-old Robbie Lopez, no relation, play throughout his senior year. The suit claims this constituted a pattern of “harassment and bullying.” The teenager and his parents are seeking $150,000 or more, according to the suit.

Sigh. And so it continues. If this is bullying, do you know how many of my former players could sue me? I’ll give you the answer – hundreds. Good God, man. Newsflash, Robbie Lopez – it’s your coach’s job to bench you if you’re not playing well. Hell, using this logic every kid on the bench could sue his coach. That’s just dumb, man.

PS- In the future every coach will be required to play every player an exact even number of minutes. Then nobody will get their feelings hurt. Awesome.

So a friend of mine from the Eastern Seaboard told me an amazing story recently about an amusement park in New Jersey that was open from 1978 to 1996. It was called Action Park, and to say this place was dangerous would be an understatement of the highest order. 6-people died at the park in 18-years, and average of 1 every 3 years, and the injuries were in the hundreds if not thousands.

The park is legendary amongst Jersey folk, and people like my friend are proud to say they survived it. In researching the park I came across this quote from a man who attended as a kid:

It was almost like our Vietnam. It was like another step in the quest to manhood. Guys would come back and they’d just have these stories of terror. One kid I knew had a broken ankle — he was on a ride that caught on fire and he had to jump off.”

Good God.

This hellhole was also known as, among other things, “Traction Park” “Accident Park” and “Class Action Park,” and you’ll soon see why. What follows are real stories and tidbits regarding the Death Trap known as Action Park:

In 1979 Action Park opened one of the first wave pools in the country. On its first day open it was estimated over 100 swimmers had to be rescued from the wave pool. Park officials attributed this to a lack of experience in the pool by park goers, because of course they did. A staff of 12 Red Cross certified lifeguards were on duty at all times, and numbers as high as 30 saves per lifeguard per day were recorded. Tragically there were 3 confirmed deaths in the wave pool.

In 1985 the park opened a slide called The Cannonball Loop. Take a look at this monster:

Kid looked like he was going about 80-mph.

 

Remember that this is a slippery slide, not a coaster. Kids went through this without safety gear. Sweet Jesus that looks dangerous. Also fun. And get this – during testing of the Cannonball Loop dummies were sent down and they were decapitated. The attraction was adjusted until the dummies came through with heads intact and then park employees were offered $100 to test it out themselves. Thankfully, no one died on this monstrosity but some people did become stuck. Before it was finally closed for good a trap door was installed into the loop to retrieve riders that became stuck in the top of the loop. The first summer it opened it had 110 reported injuries, including 30-fractures and 45-head injuries. Good times!

At one point they opened up a skate park in Action Park. It was open for only one summer season before they deemed it too dangerous and it was shut down. They were so scared that people would use it after hours that they plowed over it with dirt and set up a picnic area on top of it. Dangerous indeed.

The infamous Cliff Dive was very cold, and also very deep. Legend has it that the bottom of the 40-foot pool had to be repainted white one summer because lifeguards were unable to see drowning swimmers against the black floor. Insanity, man. Check it out:

It’s a fact that 911 calls were so frequent at Action Park (an estimated 5-10 trips per day) that the owner of the park purchased additional ambulances for the township of Vernon, NJ. Hey, that’s a civic-minded man right there.

Shockingly but not really, Action Park had some difficulty in retaining their insurers. Since they could not legally operate without insurance they set up their own fake company in the Cayman Islands. Owner Eugene Mulvihill pleaded guilty to setting up the company, copped a plea, got 3-years probation, and paid $300,000 in fines. He was supposed to sell the resort but, incredibly, he never did.

One of the biggest problems at Action Park was its employees. Legally you needed to be 16-years old to operate a ride in New Jersey, which already seems a tad young. However, Action Park had many employees as young as 14-years old. That’s not the most amazing fact I read though – it seems it was not uncommon for operators of all ages to be on duty with cans of beer in their hands. What could possibly go wrong, man?

Employees would often use park attractions after hours, and believe it or not they didn’t always operate them properly. One thing they would do was shove tennis balls into the speed governors of the cars at their Motorworld Speedway, a section of Action Park. The governors were designed to limit the speed of the vehicle to 20-mph, but after the tampering they could reach speeds as high as 50-mph. Of course, sometimes they’d forget (or not) and leave the tennis balls in, then sit back and watch the hilarity that ensued as an 8-year old kid drove a miniature car 50-mph around a little track. Oh, and by the way, without a helmet.

Helmets schmelmets.

One of the parks biggest and most dangerous attractions was the notorious Alpine Slide. The slide was a sloped and swerving cart ride. The track was built out of fiber glass, and riders would roll down in flimsy carts with no protection, using a defective handbrake as their only means of control. Riders would often get scrapes and burns on the fiberglass. In fact, friction burns were so common that paramedics would be waiting at the bottom of the slide. And burns were not the only danger – despite the crack team of underage and possibly drunk park employees manning the ride, slow riders were often in danger of being rammed from behind by the next set of riders. Unsurprisingly, Action Park’s first recorded death occurred when an after hours park employee flew off of the Alpine Slide and hit his head on a rock, killing him instantly.

Weee! Uh-oh.

One of the reasons Action Park stayed open was because they actually had an on-site infirmary. Unless you had a broken bone you wouldn’t go to the hospital and your injuries wouldn’t be reported. That’s either ingenious or insane, but probably a combination of both.

Here’s a good tidbit. In 1982, owner Mulvihill told a New Jersey newspaper that his park is “gonna be better than Disney World!” That same year a 15-year-old drowned in the Wave Pool and a week later a 27-year-old was electrocuted on a ride called the Kayak Experience. True story.

What can I say, man? We were tougher back then I guess? Seriously, I talk about the Wussification of America more than anyone but Good God this place was wild, insane and all sorts of crazy.

In other words, just the kind of place my friends and I would’ve loved.

ASHWAUBENON— A student wearing a Star Wars mask and costume prompted an evacuation at Ashwaubenon Middle School Thursday morning, May 4th.

Officials say a concerned parent called police after seeing someone walk into the school with dark clothing and a mask.

“There was no legitimate threat at AMS today. It was a misunderstanding where a student wore a Star Wars costume for “May the Fourth Be With You” day. There was no intent of a threat, but the student will be held accountable,” said Ashwaubenon School District said in a Facebook post.

Number one, what kind of a degenerate anti-American Putin-loving communist assclown snitch doesn’t know who Darth Vader is? And why the hell will the kid be “held accountable”? How is showing up on Star Wars Day as Darth Vader wrong? I mean, how does this school expect to deal with Halloween, man? Seriously though, a kid walks into a middle school dressed as Darth Vader and the entire school is evacuated. Never underestimate the power of the Dark Side, huh?

The AdvocateA plan to quietly ban dodgeball and other “target games” from public schools was shelved Tuesday by Louisiana’s top school board.

The sweeping prohibition was in a new set of physical education benchmarks drawn up by nearly two dozen teachers and others.

“Human target games (e.g. dodge ball) and drills that promote aggressive behaviors by attacking and overpowering other humans are not to be permitted,” according to the proposed standards.

Sponsors of the change said they were surprised by the reaction.

“Honestly, I didn’t think it was going to be an issue,” Kathy Hill, a member of the committee, said a few hours after the meeting.

First things first:

Secondly, Ms. Kathy Hill can go straight to hell. Dodgeball is the greatest game on earth. I bet little Timmy Hill is one of those kids that stand in the back during the dodgeball game, afraid to get hit, while the real go-getters just try and pummel the crap out of him. I also bet Kathy runs to his defense every time he faces the tiniest bit of adversity. Bravo, Louisiana State School Board. Bravo.

PS- Hey, I’ve told you of my love for dodgeball in the acclaimed blog Dodgeball: A Microcosm of Life. Do yourself a favor and read it, man.

So some bratty kid climbed into one of those machines where you try and grab

Future serial killer.

a stuffed animal with a claw, and the internet has exploded with cuteness overload.

Really? Let’s reward the kid for misbehaving? At the risk of offending new age parents everywhere, I shall now peruse the entire article, with my comments interjected:

Washington Post: Damien Murphy’s 3-year-old son, Jamie, is one of those curious, mischievous kids who gets into everything. 

Translation: Little Jamie is a spoiled brat who hasn’t been taught to behave properly. He’s on the road to being a wife-beater, or perhaps a serial killer.

“Whenever I walk into a room and see something that could be trouble,” said Murphy, of Nenagh, Ireland, “I instantly see Jamie in it. He’s a real boundary pusher.” 

Newsflash: Jamie is 3-years old. He’d “push boundaries” by walking off a cliff if you let him. It’s your job, Damien Murphy, to set his boundaries.

Once, for example, he and his dad were looking after an aunt’s dog. Jamie “woke up early in the morning and cut a bunch of hair off it,” Murphy, 35, told the Washington Post.

Adorable. I wish the dog would have eaten him, or at the very least tore off a limb.

Still, Murphy said, he didn’t see it coming — it being Jamie’s Great Toy Machine Caper — when he, Jamie and Jamie’s brother, Shane, 5, walked into Jump ‘n’ Gyms, a commercial play center that boasts a “multilevel play area” filled with kidly delights. 

Yes, the author of this article used the word “kidly.” That alone should be grounds for dismissal.

Among them was one of those big claw machines filled with cuddly stuffed teddy bears, doggies, giraffes and dragons, a contraption tantalizing to young and old alike but especially to 3-year-olds. Even though it says “Prize Every Time” in big yellow letters, 3-year-olds can’t read and are smart enough anyway not to be taken in. 

Yep. They’re smart enough not to be “taken in” yet stupid enough to do what comes next.

Indeed, getting a prize can be tough unless you’re small enough to climb inside and it happens that Jamie was small enough, said his father. 

“I was sitting down having a coffee,” Murphy said, when Jamie wandered off for just a second. “He went out of my sight, walked off just to my left. I heard what I thought was a muffled complaint,” looked over and there he was. “He was just there, inside the machine, looking out of the glass.” 

Sure, dude was just sitting there ignoring his kid as the brat had the time to climb inside a freaking toy machine.

It seems that Jamie had climbed in through the flap where the toys come tumbling out, his father said. “He seemed a bit panicked,” said Murphy, “and then I told him, ‘listen, you’re fine,’ and gave him a big smile. Then he started laughing. Jamie was then rescued from the machine by a visiting fireman.

And this, my friends, is where the opportunity for a teaching moment was missed. A true, caring parent would not have smiled. They’d have walked up, told little Jamie he was stuck forever, and left him alone in there for 20 or 30-minutes. The point would have then been imprinted into the little punk’s skull forever.

The owner of the gym, James O’Sullivan, said he had the machine removed and asked the company that operates it to review it. “At this stage,” he said, “we are thankful that Jamie didn’t manage to hurt himself during his little adventure.”

Of course, because it’s the machine’s fault. Sigh.

Dad, and son were reunited, joined by two cuddly green dragons, courtesy of Jump ‘n’ Gyms.

S-u-r-e, let’s reward the kid and his asshattery by giving him toys. Lesson learned! Sweet Jesus.

But honestly, what’s next?

“Omigod! You should’ve seen that little rascal Sebastian today! I turned my head for a few seconds and he ran into 8-lanes of freeway traffic! That little rapscallion was nearly squashed by a Kenworth W900! Totes adorbs!

Good Lord. I would’ve made Damien try and rescue Jamie by using the claw, and if he couldn’t do it little Jamie would have to stay in there. Maybe shove some Twizzlers up there to sustain the little delinquent for a couple days.

PS- Feel free to bitch in the comments section, and I will ignore you as always.

SourceThe University of Minnesota has done away with the traditional Homecoming King and Queen titles and replaced them with the gender-neutral “Royals” term.

Taking it one step further, University of Minnesota officials also pointed out that the winners don’t even have to be one biological male and one biological female, stating on its website: “‘Royals’ … can be any combination of any gender identity.”

Campus officials called the change a move “toward gender inclusivity” that promotes “a spirit of inclusion at the University of Minnesota.”

Whew. Thank God this has been cleared up. For years schools all over the country have been electing homecoming kings and queens willy-nilly as chaos ruled the day. Well, after years of suffering and senselessness, the powers-that-be in Golden Gopher Land have set things right. Thank God for them.

PS – Seriously, what a waste of time. Why not just let a gay man run for queen or a gay woman run for king? Who the hell cares? And how long before the University of Minnesota rids itself of this insensitive Golden Gopher mascot? It’s offensive to gophers everywhere, man! On a related note, the wussification continues . . .

 

Sigh. Here’s the deal. Princeton’s class of 2012 is having a 5th year reunion and their slogan is “Revenge of the Fifth.” Get it? The latest Star Wars movie was “Revenge of the Sith”? I know, not very original but whatever. Anyhoo, their costume inspiration was stormtroopers, and people got upset. Here’s the letter the reunion committee sent out: starwars-princeton

Sweet son of a mother. How in the world can someone who was born in 1990 be offended by a common term used in Nazi Germany? HOW? Newsflash: Star Wars came out in 1977, only 32-years after the fall of Hitler’s Germany, and it was a huge worldwide hit. This means, kids, that millions of the actual people who suffered at the hands of the Nazis were still alive when the movie came out. I’m talking about people who were terrorized by Hitler’s Gestapo and SS and survived the Nazi death camps. These people somehow managed to watch the movie, hear the term Stormtrooper, and you know, realize they were watching a movie. Yet, a bunch of 27-year-olds wussies from Princeton are so offended they have to run to their “safe space.” Heaven help us all.

stormtroopersboth

Attention Princeton dumbasses: L: Actual Stormtrooper. R: Pretend Movie Stormtrooper

Ladies and gentlemen, the Wussification of America continues . . .

Looks like a horrible idea.

Looks like a horrible idea.

NORTHAMPTON, Mass. (AP) – A Massachusetts police department’s program that sent officers into elementary schools one day a week to high five and fist bump students has been ended because some people complained.

Northampton Chief Jody Kasper says “High Five Friday” was started in December as a way to foster better relationships between police and children.

But some people questioned the program’s effectiveness and worried that it might upset some children, for example those in the U.S. illegally or those who have previously had negative experiences with law enforcement.

The chief tells The Daily Hampshire Gazette that parents were informed about the events beforehand and children were never forced to participate. She called the program’s demise “frustrating.”

Frustrating? FRUSTRATING? How about idiotic? We’ve become so thin-skinned as a nation that we’re worried about making little kids nervous who’ve had bad experiences with the po-po? And we don’t wanna upset the little illegal immigrants or kids who’ve run afoul with the law, now do we? Damn it, Trump! I thought you were gonna fix this crap.

(NBC)Hamden High School was placed on lockdown and evacuated this hellreadmorning after an altercation was reported and police said a student making “basketball” moves prompted the response. Police said a school employee reported hearing someone walking toward her, then saw a teenage boy raise his fist as if he was going to punch her, so she hurried her pace to get away and alerted coworkers. The school investigated and police said the student was running in the hallway and made believe he was dunking a basketball when the school employee turned around, according to police. Hamden High School students were brought to Hamden Middle School during the lockdown and have been allowed back into their own school.

First off, how can a school be put on lockdown and evacuated at the same time? Isn’t that an oxymoron?

Anyway, what we have here is, first, an overreaction from the teacher. Have a little fun for once in your life, Miss Buzzkill. And even if you felt disrespected take the kid to the office and give him an in-school suspension or something. Secondly, it’s an overreaction from the administration. Clearing the building? Really? It’s not like the kid had an uzi or something. He fake-dunked on a teacher. Big whoop. Sadly, this type of reaction is typical of the wussified society we live in.

PS- Can’t wait until Trump fixes this. Maybe after he builds that wall, bans Muslims, throws Hillary in prison, and kills ISIS. January 20th can’t get here too soon.

NY TimesCurrent federal guidelines state that fulcrum seesaws can be texas-seesaw-massacre-1-0-1-300x229installed safely if car tires are embedded under the seats and adequate space is left around them in case of a fall. But they are not recommended for toddlers or preschoolers. So the reaction to the guidelines in New York City, and many other places, is to phase seesaws out.

In 2000, 55 percent of playgrounds around the nation had a seesaw, according to the National Program for Playground Safety. By 2004, that number was 11 percent.

The main reason was safety. “New York City Parks has not installed seesaws for at least 30 years due to safety concerns,” said a spokesman, Sam Biederman.

Finally, this blight upon the very fabric of our society is being faced head-on. The death-traps that have been injuring our nation’s children for years are finally being removed. Unsuspecting children have been thrown off these beasts for years, and I say it’s about time, except not at all.

Honestly, the fun is being taken out of our children’s lives, man. No dodgeball, no monkey bars, no slippery slides, no trampolines and no seesaws. Hell, there was nothing more fun than getting a kid on the high end of the seesaw and getting up and walking away as he crashed to earth. Newsflash: Kids are attracted to stuff with a hint of danger, a threat of bodily harm. That’s why kids climb trees, ride bikes fast down hills, walk along the top of a fence, and jump off cliffs into water. That’s why they try to go down the slippery slide standing up. It’s scary. It’s a thrill. It’s America, damn it.

GRANITE FALLS, Wash. – A third high school football team is now refusing to play Everett’s Archbishop Murphy amidst concerns about player safety.

Archbishop Murphy is a private Catholic school in Everett that’s been so dominant this season that South Whidbey, Sultan, and now Granite Falls High School have all opted to forfeit instead of taking the field against the Wildcats.

In the three games Archbishop Murphy has played this season, they’ve outscored their opponents 170-0.

“It’s not that we’re afraid to play the game, it’s an injury issue,” said Dennis.  “Because of the size disparity between the linemen.  They have 300-pound linemen.  And we have sophomores that are weight 210, 220 pounds and starting on varsity.  So that’s the issue, is the size disparity.”

“My son is 5′-8″ and weighs 117 pounds and just got out of middle school and just turned 14.  They’ve got 18-year-old players that are 6’5″ and weigh 330 pounds.  I mean, that’s like putting a Volkswagen bug against a Mack Truck,” said Granite Falls mom Stacey McBride.

She and many other parents on the team feel that a football game just isn’t worth it.

“I’ve said from the very beginning that there’s no way I’m going to let my son play these guys,” said McBride.  “He said Mom I’ll get killed, why would I even put myself in that position?”

In the end, it was the players themselves who had the final say.

They came forward in the middle of Tuesday’s meeting and announced footballthey’d decided as a team that they would not play Archbishop Murphy on Friday.

Parents in the crowd applauded their decision.  One of the players explained that they chose to forfeit not because they are afraid to play Archbishop Murphy, but because the Granite Falls team is already dealing with some injuries.  He said they’d rather have the chance to finish out their entire season than risk someone getting seriously hurt while playing the Archbishop team that has a bigger roster and much bigger players.

So we get to pick who we play now? Just forfeit games against bigger and better teams? Good Lord almighty.

And hey, Stacey McBride. If you’re worried about your 5′-8″, 117-pound son getting hurt, I have a radical idea for you – don’t let him play football. Every single high school player who’s ever played the game can tell you a story of playing against much larger opponents. And as for the players who said the decision is “not because they’re afraid to play” it’s totally because they’re afraid to play.

Wussification, alive and well in Washington. Sigh.

ESPN  “Football is my sanctuary,” Beckham said. “It’s where I go to odell-beckham-cryingescape. It’s where I’m most happy. I’m not having fun anymore.” Beckham cited last season’s matchup with Josh Norman in his interview, saying that it “tarnished” his image and blaming the media for continuing to focus on his on-field conduct. He also said that the intense coverage of his latest matchup with Norman and the Redskins was circulated on social media, causing other Giants players to see it and focus on their teammate’s mental state. “I just have to understand that if I sneeze the wrong way, it’ll be a flag, it’ll be a fine. If I tie my shoe the wrong way, it might be a fine or a flag”, Beckham said.

Poor Odell Beckham. I really feel badly for the guy. The media is paying too much attention to him, damn it! Leave my man alone! So he has blonde tips on his weird spiked up afro, that’s simply a style choice, man! It’s not meant to be an attention grabber! And just because he preens around on the sideline like a petulant prima donna doesn’t mean the cameras should show it! Seriously, just because he signed a contract with a $6 million signing bonus and $10 million guaranteed, it doesn’t give people the right to bully him. Outrageous! Leave Odell alone!

Please, NY Giants, keep a close eye on Odell’s mental state. The world is against him, man. Dude needs a shoulder to cry on. Be there for him.

Note – I keep reading that he’s only 23-years old and to cut him a break, he’s just a kid. Newsflash: 18-year olds fight and die in wars. Beckham is an adult.

Note 2 – “I’m not having fun anymore” seems to be a common refrain these days. Let me explain this to you – practices aren’t supposed to be fun. They’re supposed to be difficult. You know what’s fun though? Winning. Winning is fun.

My exasperation at the overprotection of modern society has been well documented. From the banning of dodgeball in our schools to removing monkey bars from our playgrounds, the powers-that-be continue their ruination of all things fun. Why the hell do these people think kids climb trees? Ride a bike fast down a hill? Jump off the roof us a house? Because it’s a little dangerous and therefore fun, man!

I’ve written several blogs on how things have changed, including Our Soft Society, or How In The Hell Did I survive My Childhood?Killer Toys, Soft Kids and a Sobering Realization and . . . oh, hell, just type in “wussification” in the search box up there and all sorts of stuff will pop up.

And hey, little league baseball players wearing helmets has been around forever, right? But now they’re wearing them in the field. Hey, I know a line drive can hurt you but isn’t that what gloves are for? Sweet Jesus.

Which brings me to the latest example of how we’ve become soft, whiny, sissified namby-pambys.

It’ll be easier to cut the chatter and just show you a couple photos. First off we have a photo of the New York Mets celebrating their recent division championship:

champagnegoggles

Next we have a photo of the 1955 Minnesota Twins celebrating their title:

champagneold

If you haven’t noticed yet, there’s a difference. The guys in the top photo are wearing goggles because the champagne will sting their eyes. Sweet Mother of God. However, the real men in the bottom photo are feeling the burn, baby!

Of course they never wore seatbelts, smoked like chimneys and thought women were second class citizens aas well, but that’s neither here nor there. We were a tougher breed back then, man.

Sadly, the Wussification of America is alive and well.

PS: That might be beer in the second photo. Same difference.

FRAMINGHAMAfter several players on the Framingham High football beacrwalteam received large blisters during practice on Thursday, all coaches on the team have been suspended, according to sources within the schools. The Framingham School Department said in a statement that it has decided to “cease football activities.” “Given the size and scope of this incident, where there were a number of students and adults involved, we decided it was prudent to cease football activities in order to collect relative information objectively and expediently,” the statement said. “Placing staff members on administrative leave is part of this process and should not be deemed as a punitive measure; the goal is to ascertain the facts surrounding an event before reaching any judgment.” 

So I think most regular readers know how I feel about this. However, I’m not a football coach. I coach basketball, and we don’t do bear crawls. We do other conditioning exercises. Anyway, I’d like to hear from some football coaches and players, both present and former, on this particular issue.

Should coaches be suspended when there players get blisters?

PS – I can’t believe I just typed that.

The Big Lead: Philadelphia Eagles kicker Caleb Sturgis warmed up without a helmet for Thursday night’s preseason game against the Steelers. It proved to be a costly decision. An errant punt hit him in the head, resulting in a late scratch due to concussion.

Oh, for the love of God. A football to the noggin can cause a concussion? Please. Man up, son. I assume he lay there like a little baby in the fetal position, as if he’d been hit by a military sniper. Sigh. Let me tell you a story . . .

Not actual photo of incident.

Not an actual photo of incident.

When I first started teaching I coached junior high football at Greenfield McClain. One afternoon it was about 10° and we were practicing extra-points at the end of practice. I might add we were using those hard rubber footballs as well as the regular leather ones. Anyhoo, a kid named Mark Paugh, who was about my size, kicked an extra-point with one of the rubber footballs as I was stupidly walking in front of him. Long story short I took a hit that knocked me for a loop. Did I mention it was bitterly cold? That ball was as hard as a rock. Anyway, when I got up there was blood oozing from my ear and my entire head was numb.

Did I go to the doctor? No. Did I go through concussion protocol? Nah. Was I deaf in my left ear for a couple weeks? Probably. Did I think I was Pee Wee Herman for a day or two? That’s neither here nor there. Bottom line, over the years as a coach and teacher I’ve seen hundreds of kids and coaches hit in the head with footballs, basketballs, baseballs, dodgeballs, volleyballs, and the occasional fist. How many of them sat out a game or class because of this? Nary a one.

Yet, a professional football player (albeit a kicker) takes a football to the cranium and sits out the game.

Sigh. Just another sign that the Wussification of America is upon us.

Sigh. So Ellen DeGeneres joined in on all the Usain Bolt meme fun the other day, posting this photo on Twitter:

ellen

Innocent fun, right? Well, not according to the politically correct, thin-skinned, whiny pansy assclowns of the world. Seems many of them find this tweet to be racist. The backlash was so intense, in fact, that Ellen issued an apology.

Sweet Jesus, is this what it’s come to?

With all the stuff I’ve posted recently regarding The Wussification of America, wussificationI started thinking about all the things that happened to me as I was growing up and how I could have possibly survived my treacherous, unprotected childhood. I already touched on this in previous blogs entitled Killer Toys, Soft Kids and a Sobering Realization, Dodgeball, a Microcosm of Life and others, but I feel as if I need to expound on it a little more.

You know, because you guys deserve it.

Anyway, I started thinking about all the accidents I was involved in as a kid and how my parents and other family members reacted to them. I gotta say that, in retrospect, I’m damn lucky to be alive. Because when I got hurt, more often than not (and when I say more often than not I mean every time), I was told to suck it the hell up.

I know what you’re thinking, kids. Shoe, let’s hear some examples. Well, as always I’m hear for ya . . .

I don’t recall the following story but it’s been retold to me several times so don’t let any of my bloodline deny it, OK? It happened.

As the story goes, I was just a wee, innocent baby, the third child of my mom and dad. I had two loving older sisters who were disgusted thrilled to have a new little brother. One day my wonderful mother had put me down for a nap and had gone to do the dishes. She heard me crying for a bit, and then I’d become very quiet. Too quiet. So quiet, in fact, that mom became a little concerned. So, she went to check on her little angel. What she found was this . . .

My 5-year old sister, who I shall not name here (it was Sara), was carrying yours truly around by the neck, swinging me around like a lifeless Cabbage Patch Kid. Oh, and my face was blue. Hence the silence on my part. You know, because it’s hard to cry when your windpipe is being crushed. Mom saved me, but she never rushed me to the hospital or anything and I don’t think there were any long-term adverse effects on me.

I don’t think.

Then again I do suffer from periodic blackouts and an intense fear of people touching my neck, so there’s that. Oh, and I’ve never turned my back on my sister since. By the way, she’s way meaner than she looks. Kidding. Love ya Sid.

Later on, when I was around 10-years old, I was climbing a tree in our front yard with my buddy Ted. I believe it was Halloween and we were climbing up there in order leap down and scare the bejesus out of passing Trick or Treaters. Seemed like a good idea at the time. So I was ahead of Ted, probably 20-feet off the ground, when I reached for a branch to pull myself up higher. Well, the branch snapped and I henceforth plummeted downward, past Ted, hurtling towards the ground.

I hit, and my mouth must have been open, tongue out, because when it slammed shut upon impact I bit a substantial sized hole in my tongue. And yes, it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. It was dark, and I first thought I’d bitten my tongue completely in half. I ran into the house screaming my head off, blood gushing out of my mouth and in a state of panic. Mom and Pop were sitting on the couch, probably watching “My Three Sons” or something. Here’s the conversation that followed:

Me: “I bi my ‘ongue! I bi a hole in my ‘ongue! A-h-h-h-h-h-h! 

By the way, it’s hard to say the letter “t” without using your tongue. Try it.

Mom, not looking away from the TV: “Put some ice on it.”

Me: “Wh-a-a-a-a-a-a-a???”

Dad, eyes glued to the screen: “Shhhhhhhh! Ernie got into some trouble at school! His dad just found out! Put some ice on it!”

So, I put some ice on it and laid on the bed in my room in agony. I think maybe Dad came in during a commercial, took a look, and said I’d be fine. I might have even got a pat on the head out of it.

So, I walked around for a few weeks with a hole in my tongue until it finally grew back together. I can still feel a lump there though, swear to God.

I guess my point is that If this happened today the emergency squad would come and a team of doctors would be called to do reconstructive surgery to repair the damages. Back then? Nah. Put some ice on it.

Another time my buddy Billy and I were bored and decided to have a war with some old 45s my family had in the basement. For you youngsters out there, a 45 was a record, not a gun. It was round and had music on it. You see, you put it on a turntable and . . . never mind.

Anyway, we set up a couple forts with some old couch cushions and started firing these records at each other like frisbees. I happened to peek up at the wrong time and caught a record right over my right eye, and it put about a 2-inch gash right through my eyebrow. Did I mention it bled like hell? I looked like Mike Tyson had caught me with a right cross. Billy, horrified, ran home like a banshee while I ran upstairs looking for help, where I found Mom doing the dishes:

Me: “Mom, I cut my eye! MY EYE!!!”

Mom, grabbing a dishrag to wipe the blood away: “Oh, settle down. It’s not your eye. It’s above your eye. Put some ice on it.” 

Do you see a pattern here? By the way, I still have the scar in my eyebrow. Battle scar, baby.

Another time my friend Ted (yes, him again) and I found some empty beer bottles in a ditch and thought it would be a cool idea to act out a western bar fight. Hey, it looked harmless on TV.  We both got a couple bottles and started swinging, and about 5-seconds in Ted caught me with a shot right to the temple. Turns out those bottles are harder than they appear. I went down like a sack of hammers, blacked out for a few seconds, and awoke to find Ted standing over me, laughing. Our “pretend” bar fight was over.

I never even told my parents. I just put some ice on it.

I used to spend a lot of time up at my Uncle Myrl’s house. He and Aunt Dorothy had 8-kids so there was always something going on. Everything revolved around sports. One summer day I was up there and we went outside to play some baseball. The problem was, we couldn’t find a baseball so cousin Kevin grabbed a croquet ball from somewhere. We’d been playing awhile, I was pitching, when cousin Mick sent a screaming line drive right back at me. I didn’t get my glove up in time and the croquet ball caught me right between the eyes, knocking me out cold.

And what was the reaction of my loving cousins? They all ran back into the house.

I have no idea how long I was out, but I do remember getting up and staggering back into the house, where everyone was watching TV:

Me: “What the hell? Thanks for nothing.”

Mick: “Hey, look. Dave’s alive.”

Kevin: “Better get some ice on that.”

What can I say? We were a little more hardcore back then. Once I was in the woods with my cousins John, Mark and Martin when I leaned on a tree, embedding a humongous thorn in my upper arm. I mean, it was in deep. Hurt like heck too. I mentioned something about going home to get it looked at when somebody said, “Screw that, we’ll get it out.” Next thing I knew they’d heated up the tip of a bowie knife with a cigarette lighter and went to work. After 10-minutes of painful probing, the offending thorn was found and pulled out.

Couldn’t forego a fun hike through the woods because of a silly puncture wound and copious amounts of blood, now could we?

One when I was about 5 or 6 I my parents and I were sitting on the front porch and Dad told me to run around the house to see how fast I could go. In retrospect it’s pretty obvious he was just trying to get rid of me for a little bit, but that’s neither here nor there. Any, I was barefoot as usual and when I made it back around and stood there panting, he sort of looked down, pointed, and calmly stated, “Hey, looks like you cut your foot there.”

I looked down, and sure enough there was a 3-inch slice of meat hanging off my instep like you would not dream. Blood everywhere too, I might add. But hey, no biggie. Mom just slapped some mecuricome* on it, added a band-aid or six and I was ready to rock and roll.

*For you younger folk out there, mecuricome was a wonder antiseptic that was used to prevent and cure all sorts of maladies. And yes, it had mercury in it. I recall it was red and it stung like a mofo. Sadly it was discontinued years ago. Something about causing cancer or some such nonsense. On a related note, I bet mom still has a bottle stashed somewhere.

I’m also 90% sure I broke a kneecap that went untreated when I wrecked my bike as a kid. How do I know this? Because when I get down on that knee today if feels as if I’m kneeling on a live power line. Somehow, I soldier on.

And it wasn’t just my family. I remember a basketball game back in the day at our school. A player suffered a horrific arm injury, complete with a bone sticking out and everything. As he lay on the court writhing in pain, his dad came out for a look. Here’s the conversation that transpired:

Trainer: “This is bad. We need to get him to the hospital right away.”

Father: “Yeah, I’ll go get my truck.”

Trainer: “We have an ambulance outside. Let’s bring in the stretcher and get him out of here.”

Father: “Nah, I’ll take him. Leave the ambulance here. Somebody might get hurt.”

Kid: “Wait. What?”

Random fan: “Better get some ice on that!”

The father then helped the kid up, walked him to their Ford  F150, and went to the hospital. Screw the ambulance.

What can I say? It was a different time. Hell, every kid I knew back then has similar stories to tell. We knew our parents loved us. They just didn’t panic at the sight of a lot of little blood on their kid. They knew that by not running screaming to our aid we’d learn to handle our problems by ourselves and, in turn, become more self-sufficient. They wanted us to be independent of them, not dependent on them.

So we got hurt. Suffered a little. Even bled.

And somehow, some way, we all survived.

We just put a little ice on it.

The culprit.

The culprit.

Huffington Post: Isabelle Lassiter has a beef with a Japanese steakhouse in Tennessee, where a chef sprayed her in the face with a pee-pee doll in what her husband called a “sexual-style assault.”

Lassiter said she and her family were dining at the Wasabi Japanese Steakhouse in Murfreesboro on Monday when a chef produced a plastic doll resembling a little boy and pulled down its pants. A thin stream of water spurted from a hole located in the doll’s genital area and hit Lassiter in the face, she said.

She wasn’t happy.

“He pulled his little shorts down and it had a wanger and he squirted me right in the face,” Lassitter told Fox17.com.

Restaurant manager Johnny Huang said the doll is a common part of the show patrons get at dinner. Chefs use it to control flames on the hibachi, he said.

Lassiter’s husband, James, called the spraying “a sexual-style assault on my wife,” according to NBC4i.com.

The couple called the police and filed a report.

Although James Lassiter said the doll lacked genitalia, that isn’t the issue. “Just because somebody cut off a piece of plastic, OK, it’s not there anymore, doesn’t change the fact that you’re getting peed on,” he said.  

The restaurant wants to avoid pissing off other customers. It has instructed employees to ask before spraying people with the pee-pee doll.

And so it continues. The Wussification of America is alive and well in Murfeesboro, Tennessee. I mean, we’ve all been to these types of restaurants, right? They all have these types of little gimmicks. I got squirted in the eye by one of those waiters once and didn’t punch him in the temple, let alone call the cops. It’s a doll, lady. A DOLL. “Sexual-style assault?” No freaking way. Chillax and don’t be so sensitive.

Note: Love the last line in the article. “The restaurant wants to avoid pissing off other customers” is just classic, man. Classic.

Note II: That lady used the term “wanger.” She has to be from England, amirite? Damn limeys.

The Washington Post: Three years ago, a group of researchers at Cornell apple-w_bite-copyUniversity’s Food and Brand Lab had a hunch. They knew that many of apples being served to kids as part of the National School Lunch Program were ending up in the trash, virtually untouched. But unlike others, they wondered if the reason was more complicated than simply that the kids didn’t want the fruit.

Specifically, they thought the fact that the apples were being served whole, rather than sliced, was doing the fruits no favor. And they were on to something.

A pilot study conducted at eight schools found that fruit consumption jumped by more than 60 percent when apples were served sliced. And a follow-up study, conducted at six other schools, not only confirmed the finding, but further strengthened it: Both overall apple consumption and the percentage of students who ate more than half of the apple that was served to them were more than 70 percent higher at schools that served sliced apples.

Oh, for the love of God. So kids prefer sliced apples because eating an unsliced apple is too much work? Kids eat 60%-70% more apples if they’re sliced for them? Man, if this isn’t further proof of the Wussification of America I don’t know what it is. What a bunch of pansies. America, we’ve failed our youth.

Note: Seriously, who likes sliced apples? Man up, pick that thing up and bite into it. The skin is good for you, right? 

Note II: I swear to God we’re raising a generation of wimps. God help us.

Remember when you were a kid and the more dangerous something was the more fun it became? Isn’t that why we climbed trees or balanced on a fence post or rode our bikes really fast down hills?

Of course it was.

Kids today have zero idea what they’re missing, mainly because everyone is worried they might get hurt. Back in the day we had some amazing, fun toys, and they were fun because they could kill you.

Literally.

I guess our parents realized that getting hurt was a learning experience. Hey, if you’re dumb enough to shoot yourself with that pellet gun it’s your fault. Be more careful next time, dummy.

But back to the toys. Here are a few of my favorite toys from the past that could cause extreme pain or yes, even death if used improperly. Hey kids, be sure and read the directions!

JARTS

nfnfgngn

Jarts were massive weighted spears. You threw them. They stuck where they landed. If they happened to land in your skull, well, then you should have moved more quickly. During their brief (and generally awesome) reign in 1980s suburbia, Jarts racked up 6,700 injuries and four deaths. Now there’s a fun toy.

BB GUNS

g gf mdm

When I was a kid, everybody had a BB Gun. You shot at birds, rabbits, the neighbor’s cat, and each other. I swear I didn’t know a kid who wasn’t shot with a BB Gun at some point. Good times.

ATOMIC ENERGY LAB

nfdfn

Also known as little Bobby’s first Meth Lab! Good God. This toy had enough chemicals to kill a horse or build a small bomb.

SIXFINGER GUN

nfvknvkvn

Did I have one of these? You bet I did. As you can see, it looked like a finger and shot out little missiles that looked as if they were specifically designed to pierce a cornea or an eardrum. Cool!

AGENT ZERO M SONIC BLASTER

dfsfd

This thing put the boom in baby boomer. It shot a massive blast of air and made a sound like an airplane breaking the sound barrier. It may very well have led to deafness in thousands of kids like me. Anyhoo, check out that future terrorist in the photo. Hey Billy, let’s shoot down a 747!

CLACKERS

fhwkwff

Clackers were essentially two acrylic balls on each end of a string, with a loop in the center. You began slowly clacking the balls together until you got to really fast speeds. Like many toys from the 70s, these were deemed dangerous and taken off the market. According to my research, they were banned because they were being used by gangs as weapons. Maybe I have a sick sense of humor but I find that hilarious. “Bro, that dude’s goin’ down. Go get my Clackers.” As for me, I usually whipped them in a circle over my head and threw them at my sisters.

SLIP N’ SLIDE

fdfvvf

Basically a water slicked length of vinyl. You were supposed to lay down, but that was no fun. Of course we stood up. Can you say spinal cord injury? And I bet myself and all my friends had at least one concussion because of these things. But hey, we knew how to take a fall back then.

CREEPY CRAWLERS/FRIGHT FACTORY

fgfgfd

Because nothing says safety like an open hot plate. I burnt the living hell out of my fingers with this thing. Creepy Crawlers were awesome. You had these little metal molds that you’d plug in and they’d heat up to like 1000 degrees. You’d then pour this disgusting, smelly stuff called Gobbledy Goop into it. This would turn the goop into spiders, snakes, bugs, snails, whatever the mold’s shape resembled. They even had glow in the dark goop. Bottom-line, I must have burned my fingers a 1000 times on those molds. Not only that, if you accidentally left them on they’d start smoking, which I did on purpose just to watch. And I can’t tell you how many times I scared my sisters with the fake bugs.

PERFORATED ROLL CAPS

images0JI5FINX

Anyone over the age of 40 is smiling right now. The caps were made for toy guns but we’d just lay them out on the sidewalk and hit ’em with a rock. Or even better, a hammer.

SPARK GUN

kdjffd

Yes, it actually shot real sparks. As in tiny, hot flames. When I was a kid, if we got bored somebody would invariably yell this: “Let’s burn stuff!” And that is why the Spark Gun was such a hit. What could possibly go wrong?

JOHNNY REBEL CANNON

fhoog

These things were awesome. You know, if you ignored the fact it sort of glorified the Confederate Army. They could reach up to 35 feet and seemed perfectly sized to lodge into an eye socket, down an open mouth, or through the toy slave’s quarters. Oddly enough these were a big hit in Mississippi. Hey, there’s nothing more satisfying than pretending you’re shooting those equal rights-loving bastards up north.

Not only did we enjoy these dangerous toys, if mom and dad wouldn’t buy them for us we made our own. Hell, I made many a slingshot in my day from tree branches and a rubber band. Grab a handful of ball bearings and you were ready to drop somebody like a bag of hammers. And hey, if we didn’t have time to fashion a slingshot we’d just throw rocks at each other.

Hey, it beat sitting in front of a computer all day, amirite?

 

 

[The Daily Caller] – A sorority at Dartmouth College has canceled an annualhorse Kentucky Derby-themed party in response to protesters who complained that basing a party on the popular horse race was racist.

Every year, Kappa Delta Epsilon (KDE) holds an invite-only party in the spring. Until last year, the party was held the same weekend as the Kentucky Derby, which was used as the party’s theme.

KDE vice president Nikol Oydanich said house members were convinced by critics that the party was racially offensive because it evoked the aesthetics of the plantation-era South.

“[It is] related to pre-war Southern culture,” she said. “Derby was a party that had the power to upset a lot of our classmates.”

Despite Oydanich’s claim that the Derby party related to the antebellum South, the first Kentucky Derby was actually held in 1875, ten years after the Civil War ended.

Oh dear God. I shouldn’t be shocked anymore, but damned if people haven’t done it again. A Kentucky Derby party is racist? Does this mean anything pre-Civil War era is racist?  This one really confuses me. I mean, baseball was invented in 1845 and didn’t let African-Americans play until 1947. Should we cancel baseball? And how about the little oversight regarding the first Kentucky Derby and the fact that it was 10-years after the Civil War? Good Lord.

PS – The first Christmas was celebrated in AD 336. Cancel it!

Watch the video. Article and my comments follow:

[LA Times] – It had all the ingredients for a classic, made-for-Los-Angeles police chase: a convertible with its top down performing doughnuts on Sunset Boulevard, people cheering from the sidewalk, a leisurely cruise past the Hollywood Walk of Fame and a close call with a TMZ tour bus.

Naturally, the rainy-day chase ended on a narrow residential street with two suspects sharing hugs, high-fives and handshakes with a growing crowd — and lots of selfies. The wild pursuit ended with the two men surrendering to Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies without incident.

The chase lasted about two hours and began with a report of a residential burglary in Cerritos at 1:24 p.m.

After hugging and high-fiving bystanders and taking selfies, the men crossed their hands behind their backs and approached sheriff’s deputies, who had just arrived to take them into custody.

LAPD Capt. Andy Neiman said the long delay between the men stopping and their arrest was deliberate. The men were in LAPD territory but were being chased for a crime outside the department’s jurisdiction, he said.

So I posted an article earlier today about an Easter Egg Hunt in California parentsbeing ruined by a bunch of parents. Well, it seems helicopter parenting isn’t confined to the left coast. Here’s what happened when the PEZ Headquarters attempted to host a free Easter Egg Hunt in Orange, Connecticut – once again parents stormed the field, knocking kids down so their precious children wouldn’t get left out. And again I say this – if kids are taught to be self-reliant, rather than be dependent on mommy and daddy, they’d go out there and get their own damn eggs. And the wussification continues . . .

CBS Sacramento: A massive Easter egg hunt at California’s state Capitol was intended to set a 1world record but turned chaotic as combative parents stepped in to snatch eggs themselves, leaving crying children in their wake, according to participants.

Organizers had set out more than 500,000 plastic, multicolored eggs on the Capitol grounds Saturday with the goal of breaking the Guinness record for the world’s largest egg hunt.

The joyous event quickly turned ugly.

Some parents shoved their way into the hunt and scooped up all the eggs they could get their hands on. Arguments broke out over whether adults should be permitted to help their children, the Sacramento Bee reported. The frenzy prompted organizers to make an announcement urging parents to stay out of the hunt.

Although I wasn’t there, I can tell you exactly how this went down. A bunch of parents, the type who always jump in to save their kids at the slightest hint of adversity, saw their precious little children getting out-hustled by a few hard-nosed go-getters who’d been raised by parents who let them fend for themselves from time-to-time. The result? The spoiled, helpless kids were getting demolished so mommy and daddy jumped in to help. Because of this stupidity a fracas ensued.

Good God, man. Disgusting. Get it together, people!

And the Wussification of America continues.

Note: I bet the kids who were getting the least amount of eggs have never played dodgeball in their lives. Sad, really.