Wallop

My father only hit me and my brother once. It was a big one. We were both bleeding as a reult of the fracas that resulted in a smack and if I’m honest, I was bleeding more than my younger brother. I still have the axe and I think he still has the mace we played with that day. He was pretty fast with it.

Our father worked the coal face at the mines. He never needed to hit us apart from that time.. He just had to look as though he might and we’d cave in at once. He’s still alive, smaller than either of us now but still deserving of our respect.

Mother hit us all the time but as she was (and still is) a small woman it never really hurt. We both grew up intact and one of us became a respectable member of society. I’m sure my brother is happy with that. Me? No chance. Ever.

Childhood whacks made no difference to either of our life choices. We deserved each and every one and got away with so much more than we were ever caught doing. Like most kids, we won overall.

Now it is so illegal to discipline your child that the State will steal them if you try. Your children are not yours now. Let them grow up feral or the State will do it for you.

Interesting that it’s Rotherham, isn’t it? The place that let Pakistani Muslims rape so many children without challenge now picks on someone trying to instil discipline in their children. Could it be that disciplined children might not be such easy prey?

Children push boundaries. Aways have and always will. That is a good thing but there have to be boundaries. There have to be walls they cannot move. Any movement and they push harder. Give them no limit and they will take no limit. There has to be a point where parents say ‘This far and no further’. Yes, the parents. It is the job of the parents, not the State, to bring up children.

If it takes a whack to establish those boundaries, then so be it. Like touching the pretty fire, they will learn not to do it again. The pain is transient but the memory is permanent.

So whack the little buggers, but only when they deserve it. You’e training them for real life.

 

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As for me, there has been speculation that I might have become involved with a woman. I have. A very special woman. She will not make me soft, she is as mad as me. If anything, it’s going to get madder around here. She already broke into my Twitter account and probably will again in the future. That kind of thing, when she does it, just makes me smile.

So let’s have no more ‘she will make him gentle and kind and not so enraged’ stuff. She does, but only in private. And if you want to see rage, try separating us or hurting her. I’ll tear this planet into pieces that would embarrass a dust cloud. The rage is still here. Tempered perhaps, less self-directed and more focused than before but it’s best not to wake it now.

Yes there is less whisky these days. Yes there might be reduced smoking due to time constraints, especially when travelling. The crazy stories will continue as will the idiotic schemes. It’s just that now there’ll be someone to point and laugh and take photos and maybe pick me up afterwards. Maybe even apply an appropriate bandage, plaster or tourniquet or hold my hand when I get things stiched back together.

Perhaps even someone who’ll say ‘Don’t do that, you fucking idiot’ before it happens. Although I don’t think she will. I think she’ll just get a camera ready. She wasn’t there this week when I decided it might be a good idea to take a walk from the hotel to the airport. Three miles along a busy dual carriageway with no pavement. There was an easier way but hey, the easy way is never fun. I didn’t get killed (almost, here and there) but I think she’d have stopped me doing that. Or at least taken photos.

The underdog is leashed now, but tamed? Oh that will take a long time if it can even be done.

So who is it who leashed the underdog? She’ll tell you 😉

Probably when you first see the comment that starts ‘You will not believe what he’s done now…’