Damn Kids

When I was young, whenever a teacher or authoritative figure yelled at us in anger, I always felt as if it was a very grave situation, as if we did something really bad. And I always felt sorry for us, the people of younger innocence. But as I get older and older, I now know that the kids are mostly at fault and deserve to get yelled at.

Yesterday I was at a Jersey City library, waiting to print something at the computer, when the children’s section was getting vociferous. The man in charge (a librarian) says something very loudly to the kids along the lines of, “this is not how a library sounds like.” Immediately silence enveloped the library, and order was restored temporarily. The man is right, libraries are suppose to be quiet.

About 1.5 hours ago, I was at 103rd St and Lexington in NY, and I was about to go into the train station. I was halfway down the stairs when something hits me in the head. It did not hurt at all, but I was still very upset. I was enraged and grabbed the jettisoned Pikachu plastic toy and looked back into the street. I did not see the culprit. I did not want to throw it back at a random target and strike an innocent person or vehicle. After some muttered profanity, I ran back to the street and spiked the Pikachu onto the ground in anger and went back to the train station. I just caught the train.

But the take home message here is don’t feel sorry for kids when they do something wrong. It was their fault.