h a l f b a k e r yClearly this is a metaphor for something.
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Some people grew up under the guidance of progressive parents who would give you "time outs" and calmly explain why it was not correct to punch your sister in the stomache. The other 99% of us were usually coerced into proper behaviour with the palm of father's hand or mom's ninja-like homing shoe.
I propose a monumental and imposing edifice dedicated to displaying all the various types of items parents have used to discipline their children with across the vast span of human existence. There would be a Hall of Belts, the Gallery of Shoes Through the Ages, the International Collection of Switches, etc. Except for the obvious things, I'm not exactly certain what other items might be displayed within it's I.M. Pei designed walls though.
Irrelevant Comments
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[eyeguy, Oct 05 2004, last modified Oct 21 2004]
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Annotation:
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This would be great for instilling fear in hard-to-control kids. Even better than threatening them with the boogy-man: "You see how bad things could get if you don't behave...." On the down side, might give ideas to the wrong sort of parents. |
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My dad had a big paddle jigsawed from plywood and swiss-cheesed with drilled holes. |
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How about the weeds you had to pull as punishment? |
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some people (not me) were seriously traumatised by their bullying parents... |
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are there knocked out teeth on your list. |
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weeds yes, teeth no. Only those items used by the parents would be on display, not the results of their use. Otherwise the Museum would quickly be full of jars of preserved red bums and pinched ears. |
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<<Otherwise the Museum would quickly be full of jars of preserved red bums and pinched ears.>> |
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i can see a certain market that would be interested in seeing those as well... |
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Then there's the baby bottle broken over the head and a wide-swinging crutch. |
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"And if you'd all like to don your protective goggles and look to your left, you'll see a simulation of the withering glance that my mother used to keep order about the house. Please make sure you are wearing your protective eyepieces and don't look into the simulation for more than a few seconds. And be sure to avoid the stone pillar in the middle of the corridor - he was a little slow with his goggles. Now, on to the Gallery of Early Bedtimes - for the sake of authenticity, I'll be locking the door behind you. And I'll only open it again after you've thought about what you've done..." |
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I don't think a smart slap on the bun, for guidance purposes, rises to child abuse. It would be worse to provide no guidance, or ineffective guidance, in teaching a child right from wrong. Let the dialogue begin... |
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when I was little my father had a paddle that he wood-burned the saying "From the board of education to the seat of understanding." I'm scarred! |
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My mother can always end an arguement by saying, "Well, I wiped your butt when you weren't nothin' but a little un', but I guess that doesn't mean anything to you..." At which point I abandon my pursuit of the "Coconuts: Where are their nipples?" point and excuse myself from the table. |
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Fully explaining the conversation would only cheapen it. |
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btw, anyone who thinks this idea even remotely espouses or condones child abuse really needs to visit my proposal for the Remote Control Thorazine Dispenser.
*presses button repeatedly*
In addition, I just realized that this Museum would require a wing dedicated to "Withering Glances...a Photographic Restrospective. Since EVERY parent has cast the evil eye on their child as said little one is caught removing all the clothes out of a clothes drawer, this wing would constitute a large and expansive portion of the M.o.P.W. |
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would multiple pictures of the same glare be allowed? My mom's glare was so practiced that I could tell what she was glaring at me about, when the incident had happened, what my likely punishement would be, and how long it would sting afterwards. |
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Yes. Multiple glares would be framed together just as you would hang the same artist's drawings near each other. I might also amend the master plan of the M.o.P.W to have a department for the study of Wooden Spoons, which might double as a research institue. |
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don't forget the dreaded "use the middle name" ploy |
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Would there be a section for guilt and story telling at the dinner table with the grandkids listening.- a display for adult children of punishaholics (or other ethnic mothers)? |
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Ha ha ha ha ha,ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha! This is a great idea! A fresh French pastry for you. |
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Is the point of this museum a fond retrospective at methods of discipline (those were the good-old-days) or more like a war memorial (let's never do that again)? |
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My mother would wash the dishes when she wanted us to feel bad. Now I can't disassociate crockery from anger... |
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my mother was my best friend and *nothing* I did or said (in my adult years) was ever wrong. to have a relationship like that again would be nothing short of a miracle. |
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There is a difference between child abuse and discipline. The fact that some peoples' boundaries regarding this are not as they should be doesn't mean that everyone elses experiences should be ignored. I don't think that this idea condones child abuse as it is. Perhaps I was a horrible child but I found it quite amusing to see what my mother would come up with next in her repertoire of non-violent punishments and disciplinary measures. This is what I consider to be the lighter side. I suppose this does depend on your outlook and personal experiences though. Although I hadn't read many of Klaatu's annotations I'm not so sure that they should have been deleted but then it does depend on what they said. |
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No mention of cricket bats and oil drums then. |
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It might be well to separate some of the displays into two clearly marked wings, "The gallery of wise discipline," and "the gallery of child abuse" It might be interesting to see how the displays shift positions over time. if this is in the US, the "gallery of wise discipline" will be pretty much empty, beyond the hall of withering glances and the early bedtime display. |
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My dad used the backside of a hairbrush. The worst terror in the world was that he might turn it around and switch to the pointy bristly side. |
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