A Loss Of Innocence
Have you
ever been pondering on your childhood when suddenly you realize just how
oblivious to your surroundings you actually were? A common example: Mom and Dad
want you to stay out of their room so they can have some “Alone Time”. Remember
alone time kids? Sometimes referred to as “Redecorate The Bedroom Time”, which
would explain the loud banging noises, the messy bed afterwards, and the
screaming and sighing. “Screaming and Sighing?” you ask? Well, ever redecorated
a room with someone? You disagree on just about everything. I’m sure mom and
dad always had arguments about how long they should redecorate, where to put
things while redecorating, how dad wants everything to be white, how mom wants
the room to have a more gentle, softer tone and dad just wants to get in, get
out, and take a nap.....in his newly redecorated bedroom of course. Anyways, by
now you must have at least picked up on what I’m getting at.....Your mom can’t
decorate for shit. (Trust me on this one)
This sudden epiphany of knowledge is not limited to just
sex, of course. What about drugs? Ah yes, America’s favorite past time. Look at
it this way....Are you really so naive to think that it is only our
angst-gothic-government hating generation that has utilized these mind-altering
substances? No. In fact, there was a time, long, long ago, when a radical group
of happy-go-lucky-government haters helped drugs explode onto the American
scene. I like to refer to this time as “The 20.6th Century”, but everyone else
insists on calling it “The 60s”. This is a time period that most of your
parents were around for. And yes, they did do drugs. And yes, they stopped
doing drugs on the day you were born. Wait, did I say “you were born”? I meant
the day Dubya (George W. Bush) took office. It was then that your parents
realized what a monstrously heinous crime their drug use helped them commit.
But, even if your parents did quit doing drugs when you were born, your mother
was still courteous enough to shoot up throughout her pregnancy all the way up
to her last fix in the car on the way to the emergency room. And you wonder why
you’re such a fuck up? Goes along with the theme of the 21.04th century: Blame
The Parents (Subtitled “Why Kids Are Incapable Of Doing Stuff On Their Own Until
They‘re 21”)
Dun Dun Dun....*Hallway Hallway Hallway Hallway DOOR!* Could it be that not only were our parents doing drugs, but other adults as well? I actually went through the process backwards. First I realized other adults from my childhood did drugs, and then I realized my parents did drugs as well. Who was the magical lady that opened up my eyes to this issue? Why, it’s my elementary school art teacher! So who saw that one coming? Yes, yes.....good ol’ Mrs.....uhh....Art Teacher. I can remember her like it was yesterday, Her trembly hands running through her wildly frizzy red hair. She would always climb on top of the air conditioner and sit indian style while rocking back and forth. This became the official “Instruction Giving Position”. Back then I just thought she was eccentric. Little did I know that half of the school’s paint supply had been violently sucked strait into her brain via her nose.
So it all made sense now. My art teacher was constantly
high, why couldn’t my parents be? *Fuzzy memory coming into focus* Here’s my
mom yelling at my dad for having “tobacco ”. Oddly enough, he would only smoke
this tobacco using his pipe....and....and...oh it’s coming back, I know
it....oh yeah! He bought it in Mexico. And there you have it. My dad was a pot
head, and so was yours.