The Barbarity Dennis Loved

In a piece called, without intentional irony, "America today: a parody of what once was," Dennis Campbell remembers his corporal punishment perhaps a bit too fondly:

Even after more than four decades the memory is sharp and clear. The dread, the sound, the pain. The lesson taught and learned.

I was a senior at a mid-sized high school in suburban Los Angeles County. We were dressing for gym class and I was harassing a nerdy kid at the next locker. Suddenly, I heard the voice of coach O'Brien.

"Campbell, get in here."

He stood in the coaches' office adjoining the locker room, holding a paddle, maybe a foot long, three or four inches wide, a half inch deep.

I was about to get my lesson.

Within moments I was bent over, grabbing my knees. With one deft twist of his wrist, he let me have it. BAM! It sounded like a gunshot and reverberated through the locker room.

The pain was searing. On my backside was a welt as big around as a grapefruit. And not only did I suffer the swat, but Coach O'Brien informed me that if anyone else hassled Nerdy Ned during the next hour, I would be held responsible and could expect another, um, lesson.

My, how things have changed.

Ahh, beatings by the gym teacher. That's the good ol' days.

Oh, the barbarity. But we loved it.

Let's face it. America has become a feminized, pansied parody of what it once was. Our over-protective school nannies are turning out legions of overweight sissies and wusses who spend more time using their thumbs playing video games and text messaging than they do in meaningful physical activity.

I'll give him this: he's pretty honest about what he likes.

Dennis, I think you should meet Eric Dondero. He also likes to complain about girly men!