The Drug Problem in America

The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a
methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse
in the adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question,
''Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were
growing up?''

I replied: "I had a drug problem when I was young"


I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church
for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and
community socials no matter the weather.

I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults.
I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents,
told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with
respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't
put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out
with soap if I uttered a profane four-letter word. I was drug
out to pull weeds in mom's garden and flower beds and
cockleburs out of dad's fields. I was drug to the homes of family,
friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no
one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some
firewood; and, if my mother had ever known that I took a
single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me
back to the woodshed.

Those drugs are still in my veins; and they affect my behavior in
everything I do, say, and think. They are stronger than cocaine,
crack, or heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug
problem, Americawould be a better place.


author unknown