by James Bates
pink lemonade
I have to be honest. Growing up in the fifties my heroes
were television cowboys who used guns and other firearms to solve their
problems. There was no such thing as reasoned discussion among those guys. No
way. Got a problem? Let's meet out in the street. Compromise? No one knew the
meaning of the word. Violence was the norm.
I can name a number of
politicians who come from that same era. They are egotistical men spewing hatred
and malevolence with derisiveness ruling their every waking moment. It's
sickening see, and it's apparent they never grew up past the fourth grade
mentality prevalent in the boys back then.
Fortunately, most of us did.
But that was long ago, and these days it's obvious many didn't - the deed was
done and the die was cast. It's almost as if we've reverted back to those my way
or the highway, uncompromising wild west days of my youth.
Almost.
In her bedroom, my
granddaughter and her friends play quietly with dolls and stuffed animals using
their imaginations to create elaborate games usually based on what they observe
in everyday life. I listen and hear as problems are solved by talking and
reaching a common middle ground. When the girls argue, it's respectful. You can
tell they'd rather solve whatever the issue is between them and keep playing
together, than not, and end up alone. They play for hours like this. They're
only seven years old. They're smart, compassionate and it's delightful being
around them. I can't help but thinking...maybe there's hope for us
yet.
About the author
Jim counts himself as a lucky man
because he has his grandchildren in his life. His stories have appeared in
CafeLit, The Writers' Cafe
Magazine,
A Million Ways,
Cabinet of Heed
and Paragraph
Planet. You can
also check out his blog to see more: www.theviewfromlonglake.wordpress.com.
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