Just Say Moe

My older brother, who is a reasonably intelligent man, believes that if America ever faced another situation like World War II, we couldn’t stand up to the likes of Hitler and Tojo again. And I must say, he makes a powerful argument for us not having the national resolve to be able to defeat a dictator hellbent on taking over the world. Sadly, he may be right. That may be why we’ve seen the Pentagon push for more drones and robotic soldiers. They probably believe that the pool of people to fight wouldn’t  be tough enough. There are a lot of reasons why this could be true; one theory I have is it’s partially because of the television shows.  The current generation watches Paw Patrol and Peppa Pig. The previous generations watched the Three Stooges.     

I think I’m qualified to make this statement. Any time a grandchild comes in over it’s a safe bet that Paw Patrol will be on our TV for the duration of their visit. It’s so, for lack of a better word, mushy.  The villains are mushy, the heroes or mushy - why should we expect the viewers to be anything else?   

Not so with the Stooges. Many of their episodes dealt with managing their way thru life during the Great Depression. Although most of their solutions were idiotic, they used improvisation to solve problems, followed orders, and never gave up. 

And they were outrageously, absurdly, violent. If Larry or Curly so much as questioned Moe’s motives, they could expect to have their face slapped, their eyes poked, or their noses bit. Try finding that on Peppa Pig.  The Stooges were tough - and toughness was required to defeat the Axis Powers. They were so tough, that the host of the kiddie cartoon show I watched would constantly warn us not to try any of the Stooges’ antics at home.  

Unfortunately, I didn’t always heed his warning. One summer afternoon, my mom left me and my little sister, Kay, in the car for a “just a minute” while she ran inside a department store to pick up something up.The instant the car door closed, Kay began to pester me only like a younger sibling can.

Looking around, I noticed the cigarette lighter on the dashboard. I pushed it in and discovered that it still worked when the car was cut off.  I still have no idea why I did what I did next. Maybe it was because of Moe, maybe it was the devil, but when Kay’s unceasing aggravation wouldn’t stop, I branded her bare leg like a cow on a cattle ranch. 

If I thought that was going to shut her up I was gravely mistaken. She screamed and cried at levels ten times louder than before.  At once, I realized what I had done and knew what would be in store for me.  Frantically, I tried to calm her down. I even offered to let her shoot me with my BB gun - something she knew was painful because I had done that before.  Nothing was working.  

The whipping my mother gave me when we got home was the worst one I ever had - deservedly so. And as you might expect, I got a second one from my father when he returned from work. Fortunately for me, mom called dad at his office and told him what I did, so he had several hours to cool down. If he had been home when it happened, there’s a chance he might’ve applied Old Testament punishment  - an eye for an eye, or in my case a burn for a burn. 

Unlike Moe, who was never wrong, I can admit my mistakes, even if I did them when I was really young and stupid.  Sorry about that, Kay.  Not even an irritating little sister deserved that.  

Now I'm wondering if I would have apologized to my sister if I hadn’t watched so much Paw Patrol with my granddaughters. On second thought, maybe there is some good in those programs after all.