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| Rob's Soapbox | ||
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Congratulations!
You have finally landed on the one page on this entire site (and on the entire internet for that matter) that is purely without bullshit... my soapbox page. There are a lot of times during our show that, whether it's because of time constraints and other obligations, I don't always get to address some issues that I feel don't get the attention they deserve. There are even more times when I just don't feel like waiting until the show the next day to get some things off my chest. Thus, I have started the "Rob's Soapbox" page. If you have clicked on this page looking for someone to coddle your fragile sense of self-esteem, or tell you what you want to hear or to reinforce your outdated world view, then exit this page right now and go somewhere else. If you are in search of the last forum for reason and common sense left in the world, then sit back, relax, and enjoy. I make only one promise with this soapbox page... if you read long enough and often enough, you will eventually be offended. So here's my latest soapbox. Listen up, 'cause you just might learn something... |
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May 15th, 2006 THE ANSWER "DEAR ABBY" SHOULD GIVE... Here is an actual letter written to Dear Abby and printed this past week in newspapers across the country:
DEAR ABBY I will never know exactly what was going on in my son's head, walking in the rain at night. And I will have to live with the pain of losing him for the rest of my life. I would like to urge other parents out there that whenever your sons or daughters leave the house - no matter what time of day or night it is - make sure they have some sort of bright clothing on or with them. You never know when they might be walking in the dark. Also, no matter what is going on in your life, or theirs, please make sure that you always tell them you love them. Because in just a snap of a finger, your child could be gone. -SAD in Clinton, Mass.
The answer that Abby gave was so abysmal it's not worth reprinting here. It was as you would expect, filled with namby-pamby feel-good crap validating the selfish and asinine emotions emoted by the letter writer. While the letter writer's self-pity is annoying to me, it is people like "Dear Abby" who validate such tripe that nauseate me even more. Those of us who see the world for the way it should be have an obligation to tell people when they are behaving like fools, and Abby missed her chance. Fortunately, I have my own forum to address such issues. Here is the answer I would have given the letter writer: Dear Sad, You chose an appropriate surname for your letter because you are in fact, quite sad. You are a miserable person with no concept of the journey known as life. Were it not for the constraints of space I would write a book listing all of the things that are clearly wrong with you in the hopes not that you would change (because you are clearly incapable of that), but rather that others who still have a shot at making something out of their life, may perhaps be motivated to choose a life of joy, hope and prosperity in all areas rather than your chosen path of pity, wallowing and despair. Since I have only this brief column space I will focus on the main attributes that you lack. While it is of course, tragic that you lost your son, that is the end of it for the rest of the World. Your son's demise does not warrant raising other children in such a doting, smothering way that our kids learn to fear the world and all colors dark. Your attitude that an "alive mal-adjusted son is better than a properly raised dead one," is abhorrent to me. Your son suffered from a terrible freak accident of fate. These happen in life, people die. It is heartbreaking and forever scorches your soul but it is also not a reason to take up a cause of encouraging all parents to never allow their children to grow up and make their own mistakes, no matter how costly those mistakes may be. You write that you will never know "exactly what was going on in (your) son's head, walking in the rain at night." I subject to you that you have never met a 16 year-old boy in your life. Walking in the rain at night, in dark clothing no less, sounds like a fun, planned Saturday night to millions of 16 year-old boys in America. You want to believe that your boy was flustered and out of sorts without his Mommy and it were those circumstances that placed him on that wet, dark road. The truth probably is that your kid was thrilled to be away from your smothering hand and wasn't giving you or your myriad of rules a second thought. Perhaps had you raised your boy to be a man in training earlier in life, perhaps if you had let him start thinking on his own at some point, he would have made a smarter decision. Rather, he was so thrilled to be off the mommy leash that he did no thinking at all; he was just overjoyed to be free. As I said, I expect no growth from you, Sad in Clinton, but I hope to touch others with my harsh but true words. I have saved your most insulting comments for last, as you did in your crappy letter. Your closing paragraph is garbage. Allow me to remind you that you wrote, "no matter what is going in your life…please make sure that you always tell (your loved ones) you love them. Because in just a snap of a finger, your child could be gone." Alright, first of all, who are we talking about here? Children or loved ones? Thanks for the snapshot into your soul which shows that you literally only existed on this world to be a baby factory. Clearly loved ones and children are synonymous to you and screw everyone else, including husbands, sisters and parents. One can only hope that you have other children who will grow up and use your logic to disown you. More importantly the entire "tell people you love them because you never know," attitude is one that I have had it up to my receding hairline with. Living in fear is not an option nor a motivator if you want to succeed on all levels in life. Thanks for the paranoid words, Sad in Clinton, but I think I'll stick with my plan. I'll tell people that I love them, not because I am afraid that a giant ant is going to eat them or that they are going to drown in a vat of applesauce, but rather for one simple reason; because I love them. Life is too short for hand-wringing and despite my harsh words here I can only hope and pray that you will find a way to actually start living yours someday.
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