Skip to main content

A Glass of Sprite (From Free Range Kids)

From Free Range Kids:

A Glass of Sprite

Hi Readers! I loved this letter from a guy named Brad. You may, too. — L.

Dear Free-Range Kids:  I happened to rabbit-hole into your blog tonight, and read it for about 2 hours, fascinated by the psychotic parents out there. I’m 27 and was raised Free-Range. I was allowed to run amok, largely unattended, for extended periods of time. I got into all sorts of trouble and suffered many life-threatening injuries such as skinned knees, bruises of various sizes, bloody noses, and twisted ankles. One time I was attacked by a clearly homicidal rose bush. And I even broke my arm when I made the unwise decision to jump off the tailgate of a parked pickup truck and tumble down a hill. My broken arm shaped the rest of my life.

First of all, I was 10 years old. I was playing unsupervised outside in the summer with my band of heathen friends, a group of about five boys in my neighborhood. I don’t even remember what we were doing, or why I was climbing on the truck, much less why I jumped off it. I realized something was wrong when my arm was really hurting a different kind of hurt than I was used to. I got on my bike and rode home one-handed. I told my mom what happened when I got home and she sat me on the couch and got me a Sprite.

Soft drinks were a special treat when I was a kid and so Sprite was my mother’s first line of defense if something was wrong. Bad day at school? Sprite. Cold/flu? Sprite. And, apparently, broken arm=Sprite. I sat there watching TV and sipping sullenly, but when my arm was still hurting after an hour, we went to the ER. X-ray later, I was diagnosed with a fracture of both the humerus and radius, a cast was applied, and I was to follow up with my regular doctor in two weeks.

I learned a lot in the six weeks I was in a cast. I learned that I was far more capable one-handed than I has previously thought. I learned that a bent wire hanger was the perfect scratching implement for under-cast itches. I learned that I had way more friends than I thought, judging by the sheer number of signatures my cast acquired. I learned that broken bones suck, but life goes on. My parents didn’t freak out, so I didn’t freak out. I really think it was the first time my little brain followed the whole decision-action-consequence-adaptation continuum from inception to resolution.

I’ve since grown up to be a paramedic. I love what I do. It’s fulfilling in a truly indescribable way, but I’ve noticed something that troubles me. I make a lot of calls for “panic attacks” that don’t stem from a medical disorder, like clinical depression or schizophrenia. They’re panic attacks born from the inability to deal with life. There’s a college near where I work, and we make calls there all the time for kids that don’t know how to deal with the stress from being away from controlling parents. These are kids that crumble at the slightest bump in the road. They make a C on a term paper, their boyfriend/girlfriend breaks up with them, they don’t like their roommate, whatever. They panic, hyperventilate, and sob uncontrollably. They don’t sit on the couch and drink a Sprite because no one ever taught them how.

I like the Free-Range philosophy. It’s promoting a way to make kids self-reliant. Teaching them to fish, so to speak. That way, when they leave the nest and forge their own path they have the tools they need. My parents let me face life head on when I was a kid. They let me fall, but they helped me dust myself off and get back up. I’m a stronger adult because of it.

My mom always used to say “If you cry when you burn the toast, what to you do when the house burns down?” That stuck with me.

So did the Sprite.

Sincerely, Brad

Things go better with...a little self-reliance.

Posted via email from The Angry Gnome

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

NBC anti-life?

I would boycott NBC, if I ever watched it that is. I actually never watch anything on the old line networks, NBC, CBS, ABC, FOX. Everything I watch is on the cable only stations... do they still broadcast over the air? Ah well, this story is about the fact that it seems NBC refused to air an ad put together by some Catholic outfit that features an embryo and all of the hardships it faced in early life ending up with the revelation that they were talking about Obama. Here is the ad , check it out and see how unoffensive it is. Like I said, if I watched them I'd quit now. :-/

Viva California! USA out of California Now!

Gene Veith points to a Russian who predicts the breakup the American Empire. Gene is somehow unaware of the dozens of secessionist movements in various states. Granted they are almost all small but still, they exist and this could be a good time for us. Those who know me already understand that I'm a California Nationalist who I doesn't think California should have joined those united States in the first place. Being a part of that empire just costs us money, we get nothing in return. These days we get to be hated by foreigners for being Americans and mocked by Americans for being Californians. Getting us out of the US yesterday would be a day too late as far as I'm concerned.

iTom: Free Music From Tom Smith: 047: Everything Is Dangerous

047: Everything Is Dangerous The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. And all the other stuff. I actually had a song, "Be Afraid", written last week. But it was... preachy. Too preachy. If-you-want-to-send-a-message-use-Western-Union preachy. Wasn't what I wanted. And then I saw this news story , and I knew I'd found my hook. I mean, apparently I must've been vacationing in the Alps when pet turtles were outlawed back in 1975, but I surely remember all of the kids who got salmonella playing with our adorable little buddies. Oh, wait, I don't remember a single one because I never knew a kid who got sick playing with a turtle. Neither did I know a kid who was made prone to violence from watching Road Runner cartoons, but that's neither here nor there. As Lois McMaster Bujold says, you can't make your kids safe -- you can only teach them how to be safe, and hope for the best. Or, as Leslie puts it, you