Once in a while I’d like to open the trap door on the back some people’s head and look inside.

I figure there won’t be anything there but I’d like to see the cobwebs anyway.

What’s with some parents these days?

They’re so busy trying to protect their children they’re producing neurotic messes that screw up their own kids.

If you’re over 40 then you remember running around, falling down and getting banged up.

It’s part of growing up and a great way to get some hugs and ice cream from mom.

And you went outside and did it again – because it’s part of growing up.

Now parents are scared to death their children will get some terrible disease from a small scrape.

Geesh, how’d the rest of us make it?

Yeah, I’m grumpy and this is what got me started…

On Long Island, Weber Middle School is worried its students are getting hurt during recess.

So, new rules:
No footballs, baseballs, or anything that might hurt someone on school grounds.

No games of tag, or cartwheels.

Can you imagine a bunch of kids on a sugar rush with too much energy not running around, playing tag and doing cartwheels?

You have to be a bit reasonable.
If all this was that bad the human race would have died off generations ago.

If you’re an old-timer in Hawaii then you remember the mosquito trucks that used to drive through the neighborhoods at night spraying DDT.

Today it’s banned because that stuff could kill you.

Then it must be a bone-fide miracle were all still tooting along because we’d ride our bikes behind the truck as it was spitting out dense, white clouds and loving the smell of the delicious, oily mist.

Great fun when you’re 10 or 12.

Nobody cared because nobody knew better.

I wonder why it didn’t kill us.
Maybe we’re immortal.

The wife thinks I get banged up more than anyone she knows.

That’s true.

I’m always limping around, covered with band aids and she freaks when I get on a ladder.

I bet I have more fun then most old coots around my age.

You can live life or just live.