Caring Means Scaring Part 2

So anyways, folks, here I am. Back with another crazy blog filled with obscure cultural references and cautionary tales of how NOT to raise a child. The other day, because Liesi was still so freaked out by the supposed "ghost" in her room, I actually salted the doorway and windowsill. I've mentioned salt before, but for the uninitiated, salt is THE go-to solution for all things demonic and otherworldly. The whole thing started before the middle ages, where salt was viewed as a pure substance because of its preservative qualities with food not to mention its pristine, austere appearance. It was also extremely rare. Also, another fun fact, the phrase "worth his salt" comes from the days of The Roman Legion, where soldiers received part of their salary in "solarium" which was a fancy Romanesque way of saying sodium. Yes... People actually got paid in salt, liked it and were miserable when they felt that they weren't worth their pay. It's hard to imagine that passing muster these days.


So... One guy?

I've told Liesi that ghosts and monsters can't exist in a salted room because as the old legends state, a creature of pure evil can't pass through an entryway that has been been coated with the white stuff. Some say that it's because it burns them, some say that it's because in order to enter said room, the creature of pure malevolence has to count each individual grain before entering. And counting each grain is an impossibility because A) I dumped a shitload of salt and B) When Liesi goes to bed, she listens to her "Wow, wow Wubbzy" CD. I defy anyone to accomplish any task, no matter how simple while listening to this crap:

Not possible.

But, still... There's another more practical reason of why I use a solid and thick line of salt at my daughter's door. You see, if she gets out of bed hoping to perform nightly mischief, with no regard to the monsters or ghosts that are no doubt roaming the house just waiting for to take a bite from the love of my life... I'll know. Liesi's not exactly graceful yet(You've ALL seen her fresh dance steps) and if she gets up, the line WILL be disturbed, giving me the verisimilitude of her midnight escapades that I need. At that point, that's when I crank the whole thing up to 11 and tell her about THE celebrated and perennial child snatching monstrosity...

The Bogeyman/Boogeyman:

Yeah, he goes by more than a few names, the Bag Man, the Bubak, it all means the same thing. Absolute terror and absolute control over your children. See, I've always been a fan of the simple beauty of the myth. The Bogeyman is a terrifying entity that wanders the streets at night, listening for naughty children. Should he happen to come upon a spoiled little brat, he'll climb into their bedroom at night, toss them into his giant sack and carry them off to god knows where. My God... Imagine the stones on the first parent to come up with that one. Let me set the scene for you.

Early 12th century... In Europe, somewhere. Some dad's off cleaning up in front of his hovel with an old timey broom when he hears screams of terror coming from his neighbor's house. A few moments later, the head of the household walks out, fills his pipe and smiles contently.

[Bill] Gee, Tom... I couldn't help but notice your son's cries of abject terror. Care to fill me in?

[Tom] Well, Bill, if you must know I've convinced my son that should he misbehave again, a creature of untold evil and malice will kidnap him and possibly eat him. Gives my whipping hand a rest and scares the kid absolutely shitless. Did you know that he just finished clearing off the table and is already hard at work sweeping up the house?

And he takes a flask out of his pocket and raises a toast.

[Tom] To the stupidity of children!!!

[Bill] Say, Tom... I happen to have a disobedient child of my own. Can ANYONE use this technique to frighten their children into behaving like civilized individuals?

[Tom] I don't see why not. All it takes is the ability to tell bold-faced lies to someone with no reason not to believe you.

[Bill] We should really bring this up at the next town meeting.

End scene.

See, ever wonder why there are so few urban legends, mythological creatures and well behaved children these days? I'll tell you. It's two things. One: The advancement and subsequent pacification of our society due to an overabundance of media and readily accessible information. And Two: A general lack of community. Back in the old days, kids listened to their children because they were either beaten if they didn't or scared stupid by tales of what would happen to them if they didn't. There was no Dr Spock. There was no Wikipedia or Snopes to debunk what your parents told you. No, you listened to your folks and took them at their word. Parents had firm control over their offspring and would share parenting tips and stories with one another. One parent's lie could spread through an entire town in a matter of days. And think about it... Back in the early 20th century, we were more or less a decent country. Not a lot of teen pregnancies. Not too many reports of kids selling the dope. Life was better because parents did their job and put the fear of God(and monsters... and whippings) into their kids.

Now, I'm not some sort of reactionary. I like today. I like the fact that I can talk to literally dozens of people everyday without getting out of my comfy chair. I like the fact that I can turn on this glowing box in front of me and learn practically anything I'd ever want to know in a matter of hours. But, sometimes, when I hear people talking about how they want to be nothing like their parents, it sickens me. So, your folks lied to you about premarital sex, the dope and monsters. They did it to keep you safe. They did it to keep you honest, even if they were forced to be less than completely truthful themselves. They did it to keep you alive. They did it to pass on to you a rich legacy that even now few people understand.

Kids need to learn to be afraid of monsters. They need to realize that there ARE things to fear in this great big, wonderful and incredibly beautiful world. They need to learn to deal with imaginary horrors before they step out into the real world and face the things that are infinitely more real and thus infinitely more frightening. In short, if you love your kid, in their early years... It is your duty to instill in them a sense of fear. That fear leads to a sense of alertness and of self-preservation. Those few sleepless nights, watching the door and taking furtive glances under their bed may seem cruel, but the lies you tell them today may end up saving their lives tomorrow.

Because caring means scaring.

Thank you for your time.