A good drug problem…

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 flowerbeds and cocklebur’s 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 ever 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,The world would be a better place.




One Response

  1. Jim March 20, 2008

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