Because I Can… the random thoughts of Marc Scott

I watched a news video tonight on the fabulous interweb; which is filled with many things to see and do and click and download.  The video was about Kate Gosselin.  I feel like a rubbernecker.  You know the type I’m talking about.  The one that steers his car into oncoming traffic while looking at an accident and fire trucks and people standing on the side of the road.  You don’t mean to look.  You don’t even really want to look, if you’re being honest.  Yet, somehow, for some unexplainable reason, you feel compelled to look.  I’m compelled.

The video was about a spank.  Hardly newsworthy.  In fact, if you have  child, go for it.  Give them a little love tap on the butt right now.  Then count to five, and see if any paparazzi show up.  I bet they won’t.  Unless of course your name is Kate Gosselin and you’re reading this blog right now.  In that case, no love taps, you can’t get away with it!

Poor Kate is now being labeled as a bad mother.  A child abuser.  “She’s gone over the edge,” they say.  I can neither confirm, nor deny, Kate’s status on the edge.  If she is a bad mother, I suspect that the spanking of a disobedient child is the least of the causes of such a title.  I actually feel for her, and the scrutiny she is under.  Life under the media microscope, I believe, must taste a little like how hell is going to be.

I was spanked as a child.  Frequently.  I know you all believe I was an angel child.  I do too.  It would seem, however, that my parents may have felt differently about that.  Something to do with a smart mouth.  I don’t get it.  You’d think, or I would think anyway, that if my mouth was smart, it wouldn’t be getting me into trouble.  That must be one of those oxymoron’s, like nicknaming a fat guy Tiny, or sending people pictures of your pretty ugly dog or something.

If I had applied myself as a child, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I would be an NFL All Star.  I had some serious skills when it came to dodging mom, furniture, the family pet, my sister, and whatever else may have got in the way as I was trying to escape a spank.  My footwork was something to marvel.  If I was successful, I’d get through the house, into the laundry room, out the back door, and then bolt free across the backyard to my friends place who lived on the next street over.  Sometimes, I made it.  Other times, I wasn’t so lucky.

I had wooden spoons broken over my butt.  I had spatulas, big wide ones, broken over my butt.  I believe, once, there was even a hairbrush broken over my butt.  You know how after your hands have become callused enough, they eventually become tough, leathery, near impenetrable?  Like croc skin or something?  I sometimes wonder if that’s what happened to my butt.  I eventually did develop an immunity to it.  I recall a time or two where I even laughed after the spank, because it didn’t hurt anymore.  Note to small children reading this blog… never laugh!  That’s just not a good idea!!!

I sound abused.  I assure you I wasn’t.  Like a 5 Star General earns each of his uniform decorations, I earned each of my spanks.  Chalk it up to crossed wires between the mouth and brain.  I’m not saying that God messed up on me or anything.  I know He doesn’t do that.  But I can’t help but wonder if, during a flying elbow off the top bunk onto one of my sisters stuffed animals, maybe a bad landing didn’t shake things up in there.  I just never knew when to shut up.  Either that or, I knew when to shut up, I just forgot to shut up!

“Spank experts”, and I admit to you, I had no idea there was such a thing, have a lot of interesting theories on the long term effects of a spank.  I learned this during the news report.  I actually watched the video about 6 times to make sure I was hearing it right.  According to the “Spank Experts”, it’s child abuse, it affects brain development, it causes aggression, social disorders, sexual problems in adult life, and delinquent and at risk behavior.  Wow.  I must be profoundly screwed up.  Oh yeah, and if you get spanked as a child, it will also cause you to coerce your dating partners into having sex.

For the record, I have no criminal record.  I’ve not so much as stolen a candy bar from the corner store.  My brain development seems to be OK, though I suppose some could debate that, depending on who they are and when they knew me.  I’m not aggressive.  I’ve been in one fist fight in my life, and it was in grade 6.  I felt bad, took myself to the principal, and became best friends with the guy the next day.  I’m even an upstanding young gentleman in the sexual department, having never once coerced a date into having sex with me.

The reason, I like to believe, why I am such an fine young man (stop laughing) is because my parents loved me enough to lay the smack down on me when I got out of line.  Did I earn a spank for every error in judgment?  Certainly not.  There is a long list of punishments and disciplinary actions in the parents arsenal.  Trust me, I could write the book now, having experienced them all.  However, when the moment called for it, a swift whoop on the butt was all I needed to know that I’d better think twice about doing, or saying, whatever I had done, or said, again!

I’m well adjusted.  I turned out alright!  I learned my lessons.  Either that, I still fear the kitchen utensils.  That’s just what the crazy “Spank Experts” want to hear!