This is a parable of Henson Cargill's 1968 hit Skip A Rope." Listen to your children while they play. Isn't it kinda funny what the children say. Momma hates daddy, daddy hates mom, you should have heard the fight they had. Last night we all woke up to a terrible scream. Gave little sister another bad dream. Don't pay your taxes, don't be a fool. What ever happened to the golden rule? Never mind the rules just play to win. Hate you neighbor for the color of their skin. Stab'em in the back that's the name of the game. Mommy and daddy are whose to blame." Oh! what a mess we got ourselves in. Can't seem to get it together to make things right. All we do is fuss and fight. We haven't paid attention to what the children say. We have only made things worse with each passing day. No longer can we stay this way. We will only end up pale and gray. When you think about it it really isn't funny what the children say. Today, the world has become pale and gray. What the children have long since said their days are filled with nothing but dread.
When the song "Skip A Rope" first appeared in 1968 should have been a wake up call for our society to realize the pitfalls that have begun to ravage the fellowship of humanity. Since then we really haven't listened to the actual meaning behind the lyrics of what the song "Skip A Rope" actually conveys. Generation after generation since has only succumbed to the fate that our children have long since endured. As a consequence our society has deteriorated to a point where as a nation we have become so accustomed and desensitized to the violent tremors that keep reverberating through-out the nation.
It was over 50 years ago that song writers turned their attention to the shortcomings and violent confrontations that were erupting in an era of injustices amidst social upheavals. These upheavals brought about the dismantlement of the basic family unit that we had stabilizing much of America's landscape. As we have entered a new decade in the 21st century after more than a half century later the lyrics behind "Skip A Rope" ring a perspective about our society that has long since been ignored, maybe deemed old fashioned even outdated by the standards of society we have today. It would be so refreshing to adhere to what those lyrics says and realize just how far we still have to go to make things right.
As our society has deteriorated to a point of utter contempt for the basic goodness and fellowship of man many of us wonder just how long can humanity stay focused on just what the lyrics of Skip A Rope is trying to say about our world. The divisions we face, the economic inequality and the injustices that plague so many of us have all interrupted our children's development in a way that has only perpetuated the way society has become.
Ending this vicious cycle is paramount to bringing about the changes needed so that our children will forge for themselves a destiny far removed from the turbulence that so often affects and destroys the family unit. They in turn break away from the circumstances that has led to the deterioration of the one denominator that is synonymous with stability in society. A strong , healthy and stable environment within the structure of families is essential for societies to break the long standing cycle of repetitive, shall we say warfare between parents, outside influences and in some cases their offspring.
Achieving this is by no means going to be easy considering just how far our society has regressed. We have become intolerant of others and a steady reluctance in embracing any kind of change that would alter the deep divisions that are in tune with the lyrics of Skip A Rope. This is one of the most point on lyrics that is just as pertinent now as it was when it was first released in 1968.
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Dr. Williams
A PhD in Economics. Author of National Economic Reform's Ten Articles of Confederation.
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Tales My Father Never Told Me
I guess my earliest recollection of my father's exploits occurred when I was about eight or nine. As was the family custom to always sit down to dinner promptly at 6, I can remember in joyous excitement when my father recounted the days when he was young. The "good old days" as my father so fondly recalled. There was this one evening when the dishes were cleared as my father lit another Camel cigarette leaned over and said let me tell you a story of how I managed to get through school. Leaning back in the comfort of his high back chair as he exhaled smoke, " Son, back in the fall of '23 was the best year yet. I still have my raccoon coat upstairs in that closet to the left. The one I wore to all the football games that my roommate Red Grange played. The galloping ghost they called him." As I sat quite still leaning forward to here every word I remember how the gleam in his eye shown as he remembered his glory days of a bygone era.
By Dr. Williams3 years ago in Families
We don’t have room.
They say the best things happen unplanned. I have to say in this instance they are correct. Working a day at the school I was n out supposed to even work. I get a call from my director that there are 3 little girls waiting in the elementary office needing a ride to their foster home respite. Their ride fell through. It was an hour away. I had a soccer game to get to so I said I couldn’t. But they had no options because I was the only one there from our agency. So they called me back and explained that and I said okay. The only hour drive was a T. Swift concert. Stopping for fast food to get fries and shakes as they were hungry. I knew their story. Everyone in town did. 4 foster homes over almost 5 years of brutal trauma after trauma. My heart ached. My wife sent a text message and it showed on my screen as “babe”. The littlest said “is that your husband?” I said well no that’s my wife so what are you doing this weekend? I tried quickly to get through the answer to not have to initiate that type of conversation. Some littles don’t understand same sex relationships yet. She said “YOUR WIFE” and her 11 year old sister said “well her wife, I mean some people are married to phones on tik tok so at least it’s not a phone”. The whole car burst out in laughter! The little then said.. “that sounds so amazing to have two moms”. My heart crushed. They asked if I had kids. I said I had three boys. They asked if my wife loved them. I said she absolutely did love them, just like they were her own because well they are. Then the middle girl said “if you ever consider adoption maybe you can adopt us”. Now I know it’s a trauma response and attachment response to cling to people so fast. But this hit me. My wife and I thought about fostering one day but a far day down the road. We had a 13, 14 and 15 year old boys at home. 2 with medical struggles at home. That.. and we had no room. I dropped them off at their respite home and they all gave me a hug. Something did not feel right. I called my wife. I told her.. babe we have to take them. She said what I already knew. We had no room. I said okay. This was Friday.
By Ashley Mattei2 days ago in Families
Clinging to Childhood
The playground is empty, as it should be past sundown. There is a warm breeze, and I can see everything despite the late hour. What time is it, anyway? It could very well be past midnight. I can never keep track of time, especially in the summer. A prickly piece of popcorn hides like a stowaway in the left cup of my padded training bra. I stuffed the tissue in last minute— a decision I’m beginning to regret, based on the events that are unfolding rapidly before me. To my left, laying non-chalantly on his back, is my date for the evening. He is two years older, could probably grow facial hair if he wanted to, and drives a secondhand Honda. He may as well be a Man. I, on the other hand, feel like a fraud with my too-short short-shorts, sparkly lip gloss, and makeshift push-up bra. I keep my arms pinned to my sides as I feel the dreaded circles of sweat beginning to manifest on my brand new Abercrombie top. I cup my elbows with my hands and stare down at my hint of cleavage, praying that the tissue doesn’t pop out like a white flag surrendouring my lack of womanhood.
By Marti Maley6 days ago in Fiction
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