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Mar. 29, 2005 Much like the house party, hula hoop, pet rock and the Jackson Five, there’s another piece of Americana gone by the wayside. In simple terms, Americans don’t fight anymore, unless it involves guns, knives or blunt objects. Why is this and when did it start? Let’s deal with the latter question first. I trace this neo- cowardice back to the early eighties, when the house party took flight. This summertime phenomenon was where many brief, but memorable romances took root. Maybe it was where you smoked your first joint, or slow danced with the girl who hardly said five words to you during the entire school year. Then a strange thing happened. “Youngsta”—that is teenagers younger than we teens—began driving by these events and firing guns into the air. So long, house parties; hello, today’s modern-day ) so-called) “gangstas.” Of course, back in my day we actually had a phenomenon called, “the significant old dude.” Meaning that a lot of households consisted of a father. If not, there was always a boyfriend, Uncle, or "Mama’s friend” who came around to keep the boys in line. Mothers were not left to fend for their boys alone. There was some sort of significant male [presence in the homes of all of my schoolmates. The role of these men was to teach “toughness.” Whether you were tough or not, you ;earned to fight back. It was mandatory—otherwise, you’d be a victim. If you fought back and lost all the time, at least you earned respect for not getting “punked.” Why? Because we fought with our hands, the truest test of machismo. Hell, anyone can be a “bad dude” if they have a gun. . What made the fist fight romantic was that if you lost, that was the end of it, unless you wanted a rematch and the risk of “getting your cap peeled” again. And if it was a squabble over a woman, there would be no tragic funerals, nor “it was my fault” female crying jags. It came down to, “May the best man win.” Today we have youthful, misguided cowards who go out of their way to start trouble, then pull a gun when their target reacts. They think that by doing a drive-by, or firing on someone while accompanied by a car full of knuckleheads, nincompoops or ne’er-do-wells, is somehow “manly.” We live in the era of the gutless gunslinger. The kid who goes to school mad because his woodshop teacher made fun of his project, and now wants to hold the class hostage. We have teens that want to prove their gang material, and go out and rat pack a man three times their age. Sorry fellas, this isn’t toughness. In fact, there’s a saying in the hood pertaining to people who sell woof tickets but can’t back it up: “You’s a be-yotch.” ------------ About the author: Timothy Stelly is the 45-year old author of "Tempest In The Stone" and the upcoming, "The Malice of Cain". He resides in Pittsburg, California with his three youngest children Dante, Kimberly and Lawrence. I have a new website: stellbread0.tripod.com Email: stellbread@sbcglobal.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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