My Drug problem, could it be yours too? !!
#12
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I had your durg problem too. I did pass it on to my children who now have children of their own, and they are passing that same drug problem on to them. I like "RESPECT" better than a drug problem. I respected my parents, they respected me. I respected my children, they respect me. My children repect their children...and so on. I don't think so many kids respect anyone, not even themselves. Wish we could go back to those good old drug days.
#13
Super Member
Join Date: Aug 2010
Location: Piedmont Virginia in the Foothills of the Blue Ridge Mtns.
Posts: 8,562
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I remember I was drugged to a row of hedges and made to pick my own switch, with veto power by Mama.
Now I think that hedge row was magnificent and often think of those switches when I pass a similar one. :D
I'd rather be old and tired, than young and foolish.
Jan in VA
Now I think that hedge row was magnificent and often think of those switches when I pass a similar one. :D
I'd rather be old and tired, than young and foolish.
Jan in VA
#14
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Originally Posted by Jan in VA
I remember I was drugged to a row of hedges and made to pick my own switch, with veto power by Mama.
Now I think that hedge row was magnificent and often think of those switches when I pass a similar one. :D
I'd rather be old and tired, than young and foolish.
Jan in VA
Now I think that hedge row was magnificent and often think of those switches when I pass a similar one. :D
I'd rather be old and tired, than young and foolish.
Jan in VA
#15
Senior Member
Join Date: Aug 2010
Posts: 327
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Originally Posted by Chasing Hawk
Editor’s note:
The following letter has appeared on the internet and was viewed by many readers. Many felt it would be appropriate for the readers of Avoyelles Parish.
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 a drug problem 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 profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and cockleburs 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 even known that I took a single dime as a tip 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 or 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.
God bless the parents who drugged us.
The following letter has appeared on the internet and was viewed by many readers. Many felt it would be appropriate for the readers of Avoyelles Parish.
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 a drug problem 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 profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and cockleburs 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 even known that I took a single dime as a tip 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 or 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.
God bless the parents who drugged us.
It happened to people of good homes and bad homes. Lets not kid ourselves.
#16
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Sometimes it just makes me sad when I look at what is happening in America. Foul language, sexual behavior, lack of morals, all seem to be acceptable on TV, movies and in the general population. I guess I am getting old, but it still shocks me the way people are using words(that were absolutely forbidden)freely in shopping malls and public places. I grew up in much more refined, polite times and I miss them.
#17
Senior Member
Join Date: Aug 2010
Posts: 327
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Originally Posted by Margie
Sometimes it just makes me sad when I look at what is happening in America. Foul language, sexual behavior, lack of morals, all seem to be acceptable on TV, movies and in the general population. I guess I am getting old, but it still shocks me the way people are using words(that were absolutely forbidden)freely in shopping malls and public places. I grew up in much more refined, polite times and I miss them.
They weren't any more refined or polite then today.
If a girl was found to be sleeping about, you could freely make aspersions on her character.
Lets not forget the the troubles of The Great Depression.
#18
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Originally Posted by moonwolf23
Originally Posted by Chasing Hawk
Editor’s note:
The following letter has appeared on the internet and was viewed by many readers. Many felt it would be appropriate for the readers of Avoyelles Parish.
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 a drug problem 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 profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and cockleburs 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 even known that I took a single dime as a tip 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 or 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.
God bless the parents who drugged us.
The following letter has appeared on the internet and was viewed by many readers. Many felt it would be appropriate for the readers of Avoyelles Parish.
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 a drug problem 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 profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and cockleburs 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 even known that I took a single dime as a tip 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 or 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.
God bless the parents who drugged us.
It happened to people of good homes and bad homes. Lets not kid ourselves.
#20
Senior Member
Join Date: Aug 2010
Posts: 327
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Originally Posted by Chasing Hawk
Originally Posted by moonwolf23
Originally Posted by Chasing Hawk
Editor’s note:
The following letter has appeared on the internet and was viewed by many readers. Many felt it would be appropriate for the readers of Avoyelles Parish.
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 a drug problem 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 profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and cockleburs 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 even known that I took a single dime as a tip 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 or 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.
God bless the parents who drugged us.
The following letter has appeared on the internet and was viewed by many readers. Many felt it would be appropriate for the readers of Avoyelles Parish.
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 a drug problem 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 profanity. I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds and cockleburs 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 even known that I took a single dime as a tip 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 or 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.
God bless the parents who drugged us.
It happened to people of good homes and bad homes. Lets not kid ourselves.
I'm pointing out that it's wrong. Being raised with firm values isn't going to stop someone from being an addict. Nor is it limited to just today's youth. Which frankly is insulting to today's parents. Our generation has issues, and so did yours and the one preceding yours and one preceding that ad nauseum.
I want to point out the original ingredient in coke, was cocaine. Our forefathers used cocaine in their snuff. I would like to point out, you might want to look into what laudanum is. The most addicting drug, is nicotine, which is legal, though taxed to high heaven.
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