Walking My Mind

[I was on a bad blog site for a year and hardly anyone saw my stuff, so occasionally I will be reposting old posts that are not necessarily topical or relevant, but still interesting to me.] Like many children of the late '70s and early '80s, I watched Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. And spend quite a bit of time in my own neighborhood of make-believe. There is quite a lot written about Fred Rogers and the show. Recently my interest was rekindled by a video by the YouTube Channel, Mental Floss. Which, if you do not watch, you should, plain and simple. They cover a wide variety of topics that are well researched and very informative and usually also amusing. They Also have a web presence.  Here is the video from their channel. Fred Rodgers saw on television a void. He saw children watching the same shows as adults, which is who they were geared to. And he saw that children did not have a show that was really about and for them. He saw that children did not have to be ente

A little bit ago I got into a discussion with a friend of mine on the Boy Scouts. This has been a tireless argument for me as I am an Eagle Scout from a fairly liberal troop. And As my father left when I was young and was pretty much a useless POS for years afterward, I liked having a father figure I could look up to, which I found in my BSA Troop. But over time, after having these arguments over the BSA vs the microcosm that was my troop, I started to think back fondly over those events, and it appears that I may have been a little jaded. The troop was special. That is for sure. I joined Boy Scout Troop 301 of San Carlos/Belmont Ca, after successfully crossing the bridge from Webelos. Kind of like junior high school. Between Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts. I was going to join one of two Boy Scout Troops. They were both going on the same campout at Point Reyes lighthouse. The forecast called for heavy rain, and one troop canceled. I went with the one that did not. I was so prou

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."  Remember that? How many grew up hearing that and still to this day, words hurt? There was a time when I was young that the advice about bullies was to ignore them because their words could not hurt you. And if they hit you, then you could tattle on them. But for me and many others, I know who were bullied in their lives, the bruises healed, the cuts and scabs healed, even broken bones healed. And I can tell you for certain, that the words of many of those in my youth, still sting. I might be a different kind of person. I am highly empathetic. I feel the word of others pointed at me as well as pointed at others. I feel things very strongly. When I was young this was called being an emotional basketcase or an emotional cripple. I hear things and they trigger memories for me. They say that the nose is the greatest memory trigger, but for me, it is my ears. I have difficulty watching movies and te