The Poop on What’s Wrong with America

It’s official.  I’m old.  Confirmation is in my thoughts and words, “What’s happened to America?” and “Life was better when I was a kid.”  Just like my parents said when I was young.  Now I could discuss the current political climate, but I’ll save that for later.  This blog is just a beginning of several that will reflect on the “good old days,” or just be part one of what really is wrong in our country.  The first topic relates to dog poop, but is also about loss of freedom and a government that passes ordinances and other legislation to protect the weakest in our society, and thereby establishing the weak as the foundation for our country.  I remember when I was growing up, walking or riding my bike in the neighborhood.  I recall going barefoot.  I remember the large Doberman four houses down the street and the fear I had to overcome to pass that house.  I recall stepping in dog poop, sometimes it squished between my toes.  I watched dogs chase cars.  And I recall the freindly dogs that would greet me and let me scratch their backs.  Nowadays in the mornings, I often take walks in the same neighborhood.  Because of leash laws, I rarely encounter a dog unless it is being walked by its owner.  And that poor owner — doing his or her best to exercise the family pet — carrying a plastic bag either full of warm dog poop or about to be filled.  I can’t imagine.  And I feel as sorry for the dogs as I do the owners.  Maybe moreso. No freedom to roam the streets.  No visiting their friends around the block.  No opportunities to demonstrate their courage by chasing cars away.  If out of their back yards, or out of their homes, they’re always tethered.  And when they have to do something that is natural, someone immediately picks it up.  I’d be so humiliated.  Poor dogs.  So what’s wrong with America?  Our kids, if they go barefoot at all, will never step in poop, and believe me, a good life leson is that shit does happen.  And that when it does, you can deal with it.  You hose it off.  Keep playing.  Kids today, if they do walk to a friend’s house, never have to steel their nerves to pass a dog on the loose, or devise a plan — an alternate route — to avoid a canine confrontation.  So what’s happened.  We’ve made our kids soft.  Unable to deal with adversity.  Unable to handle a challenge.  And we’ve embarassed man’s best friend.  I’m just getting started.

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2 Responses to “The Poop on What’s Wrong with America”

  1. Walt Says:

    These posts are great. I really like your open and friendly style. Perhaps a nation that helps the weakest among them is really founded on enough strength,security, awareness and compassion to be a true world leader. But then, what the heck do I know?

  2. Dave Says:

    You’ve become my dog’s hero. Bunker runs free on the golf course chasing a golf cart, and taking a crap when the spirit moves him. Passing golfers shake their heads in wonder and envy as Bunker emerges from the pool, stides up to the tee box and rolls on his back in the warm grass. Freedom and shit are still out there, it’s just a bit harder to find both.

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