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You’ll break your neck….

October 12, 2012

no necks allowed….

I suppose most everybody remembers at least one adult from his childhood who was encased in a pungent, gelatinous coat of pure anxiety. Such folks are compelled to micromanage every action that occurs within range of their senses. For the unfortunate among us, this may have been a parent, and for them the first element of language learned after “Mama” was likely to have been some arrangement of…

Don’t do that! You’ll break your neck!

The children of such panicky parents adapt, adjust, and improvise in various ways. The more passive among us simply comply, incorporate the environment of angst into their own core essences, do exactly as screeched, or not, and spend their lives seeking to control everyone else’s bowel functions while passing this personality disorder on to their own offspring. They sit in front at town meetings, if they dare to go, and can be recognized by their characteristic goiter-eyes and the fact that they can sweat under Arctic conditions. They rarely run for elected offices, except for minor local positions of authority not requiring significant compromise. They do, however, tend to constitute an unavoidable presence on a secondary level, frequently achieving dominance when it comes to sound bites, petitions, and extensive written epistles about such sentinel community circumstances as why dogs over 37 pounds should be walked on leashes exactly 52 inches long, except on alternate Tuesdays when, if the stupid critter barks at more than 84 decibels between 4:15 pm and …..well, you get the picture.

Others may gravitate towards smiling warmly, giving the impression that they completely understand the peril potential inherent in allowing their cells to engage in unmonitored mitosis, while surreptitiously doing whatever they damned well please. Masters of illusion, they may become politicians. Or sociopaths. Whichever affords the greatest financial reward and opportunity to act out sexually.

On the other hand, some children of parents who insist that their children don helmets just to sit on the can seem to possess an innate immunity to it all, their most violent response perhaps being a slight smirk and rolling of the eyes. They think independently from their first breath, develop acute analytical skills, and don’t tend to develop black, tarry stools or passionate political aspirations. Their unflappability is a gift that prepares them to be phenomenal leaders, but precious few of them, if any, actually do so. It’s not that they don’t give a shit, they just don’t do so on command.

So, here we are, rapidly plummeting towards Election 2012……

 

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