Does This One Come in Children's Sizes?

Saw a comic on TV tonight. He was talking about a time when a four year old girl came up to him and said, “Hi.” Being a friendly sort he said “Hi” back, and before he knew it the little girl’s mom appeared, pulling the little girl away while shooting a less-than-friendly look at the comic. “Hey, I didn’t start it, “ he said in his defense. “She came on to me.”

I know that this was based on a true incident and I know how the guy felt. A few years back I was staying at a hotel for some goofy corporate seminar and as always I eventually found the hot tub. I was soaking my tired bones, probably after a hard day of doing nothing, when two kids—a boy and a girl—entered the tub.

After a while I was talking to them, and they began an underwater breath-holding contest. I helped out by timing them, using the large clock on the wall. I was really getting into the spirit of it, and suggested that they time me. Sure I was showing off a bit. I had never smoked cigarettes and as I ducked my head underwater I was hoping that the smoking of anything else I might have tried would not have the same deleterious effect on my lung capacity.

I stayed under for what I thought was a fairly impressive amount of time, impressive at least to a couple of six-year-olds, and I rose back above the surface fully expecting to hear exclamations of awe and wonder from the admiring kids. Instead I was faced with a stern looking woman in her thirties who was aiming that stern face directly at me as she gathered up the children. I’m sure they were given a good lecture about talking to people they didn’t know and that they wouldn’t be playing the “hold-your-breath” game with any middle-aged strangers anytime soon.

I think that’s a shame. And yes, I know you have to be so careful these days and predators are everywhere and if you had kids you’d understand, blah-blah-blah. So OK, I think it’s a shame that there are people out there who harm children and create this climate of fear, making it almost impossible for adults to have normal interaction with kids.

For example, I’ve mentioned Harry before. He’s this cute kid who lives on our block and with his baseball cap and wagon he looks like he’s right out of central casting. The first time my wife saw this kid her reaction was, “Can we keep him?” Whenever he has something to hawk from his school or one of his clubs he knows which neighbor to visit. So when he knocked on the door the other day I knew it was about to cost me money. You just don’t say no to Harry.

This time he was raising money for his school by running around a track. He was taking pledges from people to pay a certain amount of money for each lap he completed. I signed up for a buck a lap, which seemed to be the average pledge for the event. And only then did I decide to ask a few questions.

“Do you run a lot?” I asked.
“Yes.” Shit. Not the answer I wanted to hear.
“What is this event held on, a quarter-mile track?”
“No, I think it’s a sixth of a mile.” Double-shit. This kid would circle that thing like a blonde electron, and cost me a mint in the process.

Then Harry asked how my turtle was doing and even apologized for not remembering his name. Can you believe this kid? He apologized because he didn’t remember a turtle’s name! Do your hotshot kids that you’re so protective of do that? I doubt it.

And then I faced my dilemma. The kid obviously wanted to see the turtle, but what’s the proper thing to do here? After thinking about it for about three seconds I let him in and he paid a quick visit to Ellsworth and then was on his way. (Hopefully to eat some fattening food so he wouldn’t be able to run as many laps.)

So there again is the climate of fear that exists in this country, and without getting too preachy I do believe that it is more prevalent in this country. I’ve been around a bit and I’ve found, almost without exception, that other places tend to be more, I don’t know, relaxed I guess. And I’m not just talking about interaction with children.

I hear a lot of people, when they discuss topics such as this, say that things are somehow different today compared to the way they used to be in some long ago and possibly fictitious past. Well maybe they were and maybe they weren’t. I grew up on a quiet street where we played ball nearly every day. Maybe the raging paranoia wasn’t present then at the levels we see today, but there were a few times that I recall when something mysterious was going on that I didn’t fully understand.

There was this man named Pat who rode around the streets on a bicycle and seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to the neighborhood kids. Mostly it was with the other kids, because I was fairly stand-offish with this guy. Perhaps even then I had developed some sort of Freak Warning System that the other kiddies hadn’t. Eventually the word came down from the parents on the block that we kids should stay away from Pat. Why we should was never explained, and we never asked. It was a dark and murky area that we didn’t know about and didn’t want to know. Pat may have been a perfectly decent and innocent man and the victim of a suburban verbal witch-hunt, but I’ll never know. I do know that there was something different about Pat.

My earliest memory of this sort of thing goes back nearly fifty years. James K Polk was president and—screw you I’m not that old! Anyway I was walking around the block and I remember an elderly man (he was probably 38) giving me a quarter. Now that was major coin for a kid back then and I ran home to show it to my mom. I don’t remember her exact words, and there’s a better than even chance that my undeveloped mind got it all wrong, but at the time I distinctly recall getting the impression that I shouldn’t take money from strangers because that could, could, mean that they had just bought me.

Whew, that put the fear of the lord, and just about everybody else, into me, let me tell you. For the price of one quarter I apparently could have been swept away from my family, legally, and become the slave or plaything of this crusty old man. Man, that was a close one. Of course today I stroll the streets hoping to find a similar old man. I’m a little older now and a little wiser too, so if some old crank makes a similar offer I’ll be ready for him. Sure I’ll agree to the purchase but this time I plan to charge by the pound. If I’m going to do this thing I want to make sure I’m set for life.