Listen to the Hippies

I’m a total square, you know.

And a prude, probably.

It’s just this week the older two kids got “their own” cell phones. They’re 16 and 18.

We’ve given them the talk – several times, most often when the Family Life merit badge came up in Boy Scouts.

We’re picky who they party with. We want to meet their parents first.

They don’t get free reins on any vehicle. Only one of them has a driver’s license.

We teach them. They read. They think. They ask questions. They rebel.

But they also don’t drink. Don’t have questionable friends. They’re having the typical struggles in school, but they’re not washouts.

So far, so good.

And if they were nominated to the Supreme Court – not that we’d ever wish that on them – they could go before the nation and not have questions of shenanigans or alleged shenanigans in their past to haunt them.

They could go before the board with a conscience free of offense towards mankind.

They’re in the world, but not of the world. Or we mightily strive to have them be that way.

And we’re the ones the world looks on with shaking heads.

We, who frown at the promiscuity and laissez-faire with which we’re supposed to bless our children, we’re frowned on. Let your kids do what they want. Kids will be kids. Let them explore. Don’t fill their heads with your ideas.

Let them have sex when they want. Just give them birth control. That’s all they need.

Let them experience the world. Free.

Free, I say, but with warnings.

You, who are on the road must have a code that you can live by.
And you of tender years can’t know the fears that your elders grew by.

Our code includes respect for the sexes.

Our code includes no meaning no – and not ever getting to that point.

Our code includes avoiding intoxicants, which can lead down paths best left untraveled.

Teach your children well.

Ad you – go ahead and mock. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.

Or so you think.