A Hero Ain't Nothing but a Sandwich

It is Saturday morning and I decide to walk to the Oil City Public Library, I am walking across the bridge and I stumble across several used syringes lying on the ground - A Hero Ain't Nothing but a Sandwich introduction. I shake my head, grunt and kick them off the bridge into the mighty swift river. They float away, as do my thoughts and memories of my own past struggles. I arrive at the Oil City Library slightly out of breath. There are three young boys approximately 13 years of age on the computers. I mumble jokingly, but outloud, “Dreads of Society”.

The one boy looks at me and goes,” What? ” and I said,” Oh, I said , Oh it’s nice to see you boys smiling. ” They look at each other and giggle. They are texting each other with the computer probably saying,” what’s up with this old lady? “. When they grow up they will not know how to communicate with out technology. verbal conversation will be a passing fancy. Albert Einstien said,”I fear the day when the technology overlaps with our humanity. The world will only have a generation of idiots. I think to myself, is this a true statment?

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I am looking at these boys and they look like little ragamuffins, street urchints. For real, they probably rolled out of bed, never combing there hair or brushing their teeth, put on what ever clothes was laying there from the day before, and headed out into the big cruel world. I fear for these youngsters. There parents are probably caught up in there instant gratification, addiction ,being pharmacutically inclined, unemployed, not by choice, but lathargically raiseing these children to the best of there ability at that given moment.

At times I feel like I am still a child and get caught up in my own memories of being thirteen years old and riding my skateboard through my hometown, this happens more and more as I age, and it always ends up the same. Reality hits me in the face as I pass an old abandon store window and see a glimps of myself, an over weight middle aged women with tons of crows feet and an aching hip and a whole lot of life experiences. These children, the ones that I am looking at, at the library,that will be the ones that take care of me when i am old and frail and unable to care for myself. It scares me.

I am no pillar of the community, and am probably the pot calling the kettle black, and i carry a heavy cross, I myself have burned many bridges in my life time. and every day I thank GOD that I never had children. I love children, I have many nieces and nephews but it is always a blesssing to give them back to their parents when I have fulfilled my motherly desires and given them my many words of wisdom. and they on a regular basis delete me from their Facebook because I embarasse them with my opinions or maybe was too “real” for them to handle the advice that their old wise Aunt gave them.

At times I will go on a tangent and try to save the world and write all of these letters and get them all ready to mail, and then it hits me, I have a momentary lapse of reason and can not save the world. So i peel off the stamps and put them back in the drawer and throw away the used paper and envelopes and go on about my day. This ritual occurs approximately every six months or so. My nephew was in my car and said,” Aunt Donna I can’t open this pop bottle, because I don’t have a bottle opener. I pulled the car over to a old style fire hydraint and opened the bottle on the side of the fire hydrant. He looked at me like I was some sort of genius. I said,” Jayson you great grandfather, my dad, showed me how to do this, he did it when he was a boy. And I thought, We need to reminisce more with our children about what our parent taught us , when we are gone they will know nothing about their past or what it was like when we were young. They will have no stories to tell their child.

Todays kids are so electronically savvy and think nothing of recording impulsive chaotic inappropriate images that will come back in 20 years and haunt them , and publishing it on YouTube, I want to stop right then and tell these kids this, to protected from the harassment and embarrasment. But would they really listen? probably not! because they are unsupervised and have no guidance and their brains have are not formed enough to make rational decisions, so they do as they always do and will find out later that choices are important.

Imagine a mothers horror when see clicks on her computer and sees her son being beaten to a bloody pulp by one of his peers, and the crowd is his, so called “friends” egging him on. Maybe he knew about the fight, maybe he was coherst to go down to the railroad tracks and fight or maybe he though he was a tough guy and thought he could possible win. I don’t know the answer but that is what is going on down by the railroad tracks behind McDonalds in Oil City and apparently everywhere else in the world, if you type in highschool brawls on youtube.

These are our children and it frightens me, these are our children and our future. I donot have the answers, I am not a super hero. I would love to save the world, but I have my own chaos and dysfunctions to deal with. friends having babies that are addicted and best friends walking out in front of cars because they can’t handle their own drug addicted lives. I try and be a GADFLY as Plato was to Socrates. A GADFLY is someone who disrupts the status Quo and is always questioning things. That is one thing my mother always preached. Question Authority, because authority is not always right. each your children to question authority, if it doesn’t feel right tell someone. Ask why is this this way ? If something is making your child feel uptight and anxious talk to him or her. Spend time with you children because it will be a blink of an eye and they will be grown and gone to trudge their own road to destiny, and while you are doing that, I will sit in my cozy warm home with my girlfriend of eight years and our three cats and remince about our own child hood and how things use to be and try and solve all of the worlds problems over a cup of coffee while reading the DERRICK NEWSPAPER.

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