s Poopdeck Pappy said in Popeye, “I come across my hating fair”. And I do.

The other day on Facebook, I posted something about kids being little shits. A friend of mine had just quit the teaching profession, having been beaten, assaulted and mauled by her students. She’d had enough.

This slots into my own personal thoughts on this subject. I don’t have kids. But I can’t tell you how many movies, dinners and airplane flights have been ruined by screaming children. And how many events, from bike riding to train shows to anything, have been tarnished with shitty teens. And how many times my life has been risked by speed-drunk pre-adults racing parent-provided cars and motorcycles on public highways. Yes, for every kid I meet who impresses me with their knowledge or respects me for my longevity, there are ten who are grating little crotch-droppings who rely on their parents to protect (and sue) anyone who might get in their way of frantic fun.

So I don’t like them.

And when I said this, someone on Facebook ran their litany of things I’ve said over the years (and Christ, is this a friend, a fan or a stalker?). Not only were they pissed about what I said about kids (and proposing that since their kids were angels all kids were above reproach), but also about my usual rants about “FUVs” (which is a combination of “Sport Utility Vehicles” and “Fuck U” (which is how their drivers think of everyone else)).

Frankly, you have your own asshole, which are like opinions, and everyone’s got one.

As for FUVs, let’s face it: what sort of person are you to drive one of these things? Oh, everyone has a need to drive one. Sure, you need all those cupholders and what if you pick up a sack of Black Cow in Home Depot – how will you get it home?

See, my dislike of these cars comes down to a couple of simple facts.

• You will literally murder me and my beloved wife if we get in a wreck. Your car is too heavy, your bumpers too high, and your high seating gives you a false sense of safety.
• You are literally murdering the planet. For that quarter century I commuted by bicycle to work, how many times did I sit at a light with two lanes of urban shermans chugging away, with both ACs and emissions on “high”.
• I can’t see around you – you are a needlessly massive vision block. I can’t see hazards coming up. I can’t see oncoming traffic when attempting to left turn while facing you.

What is interesting is that when I state all these objections, people will defend these tanks (even if they don’t own one). The American outlook is that we “respect” all bad things we bring into the world, either spawned or purchased. If you have money and it is legal, you have a perfect right to have it (even including, as was once thought, slaves). We who suffer are not allowed to complain. And as we get older, the idea of respect for those who have lived long decades of interaction and observation turns into dismissiveness, that were are cranky codgers worthy of scorn, and somehow you aren’t enablers who allow everything to get worse.

I’ll close with this story – a woman I knew took her family to Japan. When we went to Japan, we understood that public transportation is a quiet place that must be respected in an overpopulated nation. We knew that. She did not. So while on the train, her kids (I think they were about ten years and older) started playing grab-ass poke-and-squeal games and someone finally shushed them. And this angered her – how dare a stranger tell her kids what to do? How dare they not respect her nihilistic child rearing?

I didn’t know what to say. Maybe I should have shushed her.

As far as getting off my lawn, if you are out on my grass digging for buried treasure with your parents’ shovels and pickaxes while they stand proudly by, filming your adorable trespass, yes, I’ll say just that.

>>>STILL PISSED. BUY A BOOK, EVEN THOUGH MOST KIDS LACK THE INTEREST AND COMMITMENT TO READ ONE<<<

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