Guess What Those Crazy Extremists In Utah Just Legalized

[EasyAce]

By Jim Jamitis
https://www.redstate.com/jimjamitis/2018/03/26/guess-crazy-extremists-utah-just-legalized/

The state of Utah just legalized…well…um…childhood.

This is a good thing, obviously, but it’s still a sad commentary on the state of American society. Our descent into nanny-statism has made everyone paranoid about everything involving kids. While the nanny-staters love elevating children to sages on the mountaintop when it fits their gun control agenda, younger kids have lost the freedom to range…well…freely.

Some parents have literally had their children taken away by the government for letting them do what kids *gasp* play outside unsupervised.

Utah has said “no more” to this sort of idiocy . . . The “controversial” method is the one that has been employed all over the world for practically all of human history . . .

. . . Some people see this as government presuming to have the right to dictate your parenting style but I don’t think that’s what this is . . .

. . . I think this is a preemptive strike against the busybodies who destroy families lives by reporting normal parents for letting their kids be normal kids the same way most adults grew up. It’s like the Constitution enshrining our pre-existing rights . . .

[Fishrrman]

This excerpt gives a clearer picture as to what the Utah law is about:
"Gov. Gary Herbert signed the bill, which states it’s not neglectful for parents to allow their kids to do the following without adult supervision: walk to and from school, play outside, be in a car unattended, stay home alone.

The law states that children must be mature enough to handle each situation, though it does not specify an age. It’s believed to be the first legislation of its kind in the United States and takes effect May 8.

Utah lawmakers said they were prompted to pass the law after seeing cases where parents had their children temporarily removed when people reported seeing the kids playing basketball in their yards or walking to school alone, the Associated Press reported."

[EasyAce]

This excerpt gives a clearer picture as to what the Utah law is about:
"Gov. Gary Herbert signed the bill, which states it’s not neglectful for parents to allow their kids to do the following without adult supervision: walk to and from school, play outside, be in a car unattended, stay home alone.

The law states that children must be mature enough to handle each situation, though it does not specify an age. It’s believed to be the first legislation of its kind in the United States and takes effect May 8.

Utah lawmakers said they were prompted to pass the law after seeing cases where parents had their children temporarily removed when people reported seeing the kids playing basketball in their yards or walking to school alone, the Associated Press reported."

@Fishrrman
I grew up in the Bronx, at least for my first seven years. If parents could have their kids taken for playing basketball in their yards or walking to school alone in
Utah, for crying out loud, they would have hung my parents. Starting at age six---I'd walk down the street to the candy store to bring back the morning
newspapers. I'd walk to school alone (or at least with a couple of playmates) . . . five city blocks between our apartment building and my first elementary school.
I'd walk to the library alone . . . five city blocks kind of the other way. After school or weekends? Oy vey! Roller skating . . . around the block from Webb
Avenue to Kingsbridge Road where a sharp downgrade began toward Sedgwick Avenue . . . walking back to my school to find some kids to get up a little game
of baseball . . . to the park for snowball fights in winter without Mother and Dad tagging along (unless they wanted to be part of the snowball fights) . . . hell,
from our apartment to Fordham Freaking Road (quite a jump from Kingsbridge Road) when I was seven and older, to a Saturday movie or to a particular chocolate
emporium.

And that was before we moved out to Long Island, to Long Beach, specifically, where the beach was walking distance and the boardwalk was a kids' playground
when he wasn't going to the beach for a swim or a tan. ANd if we went back to the city to see Grandma and Grandpa? Hell, they'd get rid of me in a hurry with five
bucks. Enough for the subway to wherever I felt like going long as I was back in time for dinner. Even out to Shea Stadium if I felt like a Mets game, since I knew how
to change subways before today's kids even know what going down one block to the park by themselves is . . .

Did I say hung? Hell---they would have had my parents shot. By firing squad.

[Smokin Joe]

The Utah law is a great step in the right direction. I know people who have had their kids snapped up by Social Services and have taken a year or more of legal battles to get them back for things such as the crime of letting them play in their own yard. When I consider I had a farm, acres of woods, and an entire river as my playground, often operating boats or equipment at an early age, and how that would be considered child abuse or neglect nowadays, this law is something that has been needed.
The burden of proof that a parent is not neglectful or abusive, terms which can be very loosely defined, lies with the accused in practice, and I have personally seen social workers lie.

May Almighty God save us from the fury of the do-gooders!

[mountaineer]

I never had the opportunity to be a parent, but certainly hope that parents and those who soon will become parents will wake up to the importance of teaching children self-reliance. My mother put us on the trolley to go downtown to wander around Pittsburgh (first to piano lessons, then over to the planetarium for science classes, then back to the trolley stop for the return trip to the suburbs) without a worry. Thank goodness I had at least that much freedom!

[EasyAce]

I never had the opportunity to be a parent, but certainly hope that parents and those who soon will become parents will wake up to the importance of teaching children self-reliance. My mother put us on the trolley to go downtown to wander around Pittsburgh (first to piano lessons, then over to the planetarium for science classes, then back to the trolley stop for the return trip to the suburbs) without a worry. Thank goodness I had at least that much freedom!

When I was a kid in and around New York, New York was still a fun place to be. Let a ten- or eleven-year-old kid learn the map of the city
subways and New York whole was your playground. The Museum of Natural History, Chinatown, Shea Stadium, the Metropolitan Museum of Art,
the main New York Public Library, Central Park, and Record World . . . just for openers.

My enablers were also my maternal grandparents; I loved hopping the Long Island Rail Road to spend weekends or school breaks with them.
Take that train to Penn Station, then walk across the station under the street and catch the D train to the north Bronx. Grandma would pull me
aside after breakfast and hand me a five spot and whisper, "Don't tell Grandpa!" Five minutes later, Grandpa would pull me aside near the bedroom
and hand me a five spot and whisper, "Don't tell Grandma!" Ten bucks in a kid's pocket in 1966-68 was like putting him on Millionaire Acres---you
could have a nice lunch (mine was a kosher hot dog, mustard and sauerkraut, and a can of celery soda from an old-fashioned corner hot dog stand),
have enough for several subway trips, a ball game at Shea Stadium, a little record shopping, maybe a jaunt to Coney Island and a couple of rides
down there, and when you got back you might still have a couple of bucks in your pocket. (Even more fun: if I wanted to hit Shea Stadium,
Grandpa would go with me---he loved watching Met games from behind the plate in the mezzanine section, which was only $2.50 a seat in
those years.)

Those were the days.

[WingNot]

@EasyAce,  forgive me but what pray tell is "a can of celery soda"?

[goatprairie]

@Fishrrman
I grew up in the Bronx, at least for my first seven years. If parents could have their kids taken for playing basketball in their yards or walking to school alone in
Utah, for crying out loud, they would have hung my parents. Starting at age six---I'd walk down the street to the candy store to bring back the morning
newspapers. I'd walk to school alone (or at least with a couple of playmates) . . . five city blocks between our apartment building and my first elementary school.
I'd walk to the library alone . . . five city blocks kind of the other way. After school or weekends? Oy vey! Roller skating . . . around the block from Webb
Avenue to Kingsbridge Road where a sharp downgrade began toward Sedgwick Avenue . . . walking back to my school to find some kids to get up a little game
of baseball . . . to the park for snowball fights in winter without Mother and Dad tagging along (unless they wanted to be part of the snowball fights) . . . hell,
from our apartment to Fordham Freaking Road (quite a jump from Kingsbridge Road) when I was seven and older, to a Saturday movie or to a particular chocolate
emporium.

And that was before we moved out to Long Island, to Long Beach, specifically, where the beach was walking distance and the boardwalk was a kids' playground
when he wasn't going to the beach for a swim or a tan. ANd if we went back to the city to see Grandma and Grandpa? Hell, they'd get rid of me in a hurry with five
bucks. Enough for the subway to wherever I felt like going long as I was back in time for dinner. Even out to Shea Stadium if I felt like a Mets game, since I knew how
to change subways before today's kids even know what going down one block to the park by themselves is . . .

Did I say hung? Hell---they would have had my parents shot. By firing squad.

I remember going out trick or treating for the first time when I was four (1954) with some of my siblings.  The person leading us around? ....my older brother who was seven years old at the time. We roamed many, many blocks from our home in search of sugared treasure....without our parents or any other grownups.
It was common to see kids as young as three years old on a nearby playground without their parents. In the fifties and sixties young children were all over the place unattended by their parents or older children.
And now nine or ten year old kids can't even walk down the block by themselves?  A seriously screwed up country.

[goatprairie]

When I was a kid in and around New York, New York was still a fun place to be. Let a ten- or eleven-year-old kid learn the map of the city
subways and New York whole was your playground. The Museum of Natural History, Chinatown, Shea Stadium, the Metropolitan Museum of Art,
the main New York Public Library, Central Park, and Record World . . . just for openers.

My enablers were also my maternal grandparents; I loved hopping the Long Island Rail Road to spend weekends or school breaks with them.
Take that train to Penn Station, then walk across the station under the street and catch the D train to the north Bronx. Grandma would pull me
aside after breakfast and hand me a five spot and whisper, "Don't tell Grandpa!" Five minutes later, Grandpa would pull me aside near the bedroom
and hand me a five spot and whisper, "Don't tell Grandma!" Ten bucks in a kid's pocket in 1966-68 was like putting him on Millionaire Acres---you
could have a nice lunch (mine was a kosher hot dog, mustard and sauerkraut, and a can of celery soda from an old-fashioned corner hot dog stand),
have enough for several subway trips, a ball game at Shea Stadium, a little record shopping, maybe a jaunt to Coney Island and a couple of rides
down there, and when you got back you might still have a couple of bucks in your pocket. (Even more fun: if I wanted to hit Shea Stadium,
Grandpa would go with me---he loved watching Met games from behind the plate in the mezzanine section, which was only $2.50 a seat in
those years.)

Those were the days.

You lucky stiff...I didn't have a dollar in my pocket until I was almost in my teens.  I remember subbing for my older brother on his paper route a few times where I acquired a few bucks.
Parents, grandparents aunts and uncles weren't quite so free with handing out dough to greedy kids like me.  And naturally I was averse to working for money. 
I remember one time some visiting relatives were going to give me and my other greedy siblings a dollar.  My father quickly grabbed the relative's hand and stopped him. Thanks a lot father.  My money would have been wisely spent on baseball cards and comic books.

[EasyAce]

@EasyAce,  forgive me but what pray tell is "a can of celery soda"?

[WingNot]

Doc Brown.

Heavy!

[Cyber Liberty]

Doc Brown.

Heavy!

Yes, there is a gravity problem in @EasyAce's locale.

[EasyAce]

You lucky stiff...I didn't have a dollar in my pocket until I was almost in my teens.  I remember subbing for my older brother on his paper route a few times where I acquired a few bucks.
Parents, grandparents aunts and uncles weren't quite so free with handing out dough to greedy kids like me.  And naturally I was averse to working for money. 
I remember one time some visiting relatives were going to give me and my other greedy siblings a dollar.  My father quickly grabbed the relative's hand and stopped him. Thanks a lot father.  My money would have been wisely spent on baseball cards and comic books.

I was very lucky in grandparents.

Especially what my maternal grandmother did on my 12th birthday---she bought me my first super-cheap electric guitar. My mother wanted to kill her.
All these years later, I finally wrote a song for her . . .

Diana

(It's also the first song on which I ever tried to play slide guitar. I wrote it two years ago; I recorded this version during a recent rehearsal with my band.)

[EasyAce]

Yes, there is a gravity problem in @EasyAce's locale.

There's more of a supply problem in my current locale---you can't get Dr. Brown's in most Las Vegas markets, and when you do find it,
you can get the black cherry (absolutely great) but not the Cel-Ray.

[WingNot]

Yes, there is a gravity problem in @EasyAce's locale.

I'm smiling! 

[Cyber Liberty]

There's more of a supply problem in my current locale---you can't get Dr. Brown's in most Las Vegas markets, and when you do find it,
you can get the black cherry (absolutely great) but not the Cel-Ray.

Amazon serves, my dear friend:

https://smile.amazon.com/Browns-Cel-Ray-Soda-12oz-Total/dp/B07816K3BP/ref=sr_1_1_a_it?ie=UTF8&qid=1522178504&sr=8-1&keywords=dr.+brown%27s+celray+soda

[EasyAce]

Amazon serves, my dear friend:

https://smile.amazon.com/Browns-Cel-Ray-Soda-12oz-Total/dp/B07816K3BP/ref=sr_1_1_a_it?ie=UTF8&qid=1522178504&sr=8-1&keywords=dr.+brown%27s+celray+soda

Yep, that's where I buy it ;)

[RoosGirl]

@EasyAce,  forgive me but what pray tell is "a can of celery soda"?

You live in Florida.  You've never been to Toojays?  They have that celery soda.  It's always sounded exceedingly nasty to me.

[WingNot]

You live in Florida.  You've never been to Toojays?  They have that celery soda.  It's always sounded exceedingly nasty to me.

I guess I have lived a sheltered life, Roos.   

[RoosGirl]

I guess I have lived a sheltered life, Roos.   

It's just as well.  Don't go out of your way to go to one.  Unless you want a slice of banana dream cake or a dark cherry soda.

[Fishrrman]

I was seven or eight -- no older. We lived in Weston (CT) on the main road (which wasn't much of a "main road" in those days, the mid-50's).

Georgetown was 2 miles down the road. A little town, but it had a big wire mill and a freight yard. And TWO (not one) general stores -- and a food market (tiny by today's standards).

They were rebuilding the road. 1950's Mack Thermodyne dump trucks would haul stone from the railroad yard in Georgetown past our house to the work area south towards Westport.

I'd take off down the road on my own, walk the two miles to Georgetown so I could watch the crews unload the stone from railroad hoppers into the trucks. Watched them switch out cars, too. Got invited up on the engine by a friendly engineer, my first time on an engine (I should have quit while I was ahead)!

After being in town for a few hours, I'd start walking back home. The truck drivers would stop and ask me if I wanted a ride. In the big dump truck? -- oh, boy! They'd stop in front of the house and let me off.

What more could a kid ask for?

The freight yard is gone now (the railroad is still there, I RAN freight trains on it back in my freight days). So is the Gilbert & Bennett wire mill.

Those times when a young boy could wander off on his own are gone, too. Short of a second revolution in this land, they ain't comin' back.

I'd like to see them come back. And I don't care if it TAKES "a revolution"...