What was your first mature thought?

Actually I'd like to replace my previous comment with - "Santa is fake!"

I came to that conclusion at the sad age of 12. Yes, I said 12.

Ah, the classics.

truth
And contrary to oater dogma (what does that mean, George?) we were taught that when people were knocked out no real harm was done. Later, I learned the hard way that each time I was knocked out it involved a concussion.

I think you are the same age I am, who watched Hoppy in (oh, no, should I pm you??).

My mother made me a denim skirt and shirt, and they must have let me have a holster and pearl handled gun (what? says me, now), plus I had boots, another story. What a princess. Yes, I was, that particular year.

What a spinning mind you had, ILZ, with relativity sensibility plus a vestigial belief in Santa. I didn't give up Santa until a friend confronted me about it at eight.

truth
What's this sacrilege about Santa? Next you'll deny the Easter Rabbit. I too am of the Hoppy generation, but I even go back to Hoot Gibson and Tom Mix, and who was that guy, Steele?

This is partly due to the fact that my mother encouraged me to cook up elaborate theories to support my belief in Santa. Also, after realizing that Jesus was about as truthfull as the tooth fairy, I think Santa was the last bastion of my youthfull desires to believe in the unexplainable. By the time I gave up the belief entirely, the concept of Santa had strayed so far away from the generally accepted meaning that it bore little resemblance to the original.

Yeah, I had him pegged as the mastermind of a complex scheme which involved a system of thousands of elves strategically placed around the world who sprung into action on Christmas Eve. The revelation that he was false was.......devastating. I never figured out what my mothers motivations were in allowing my delusion to persist.......

But this is a discussion I should be having with a high priced psychologist, not on an internet discussion board.

:wink:

Being jewish, I never believed in Santa, and I would always do my best to ruin Christmas for all the kids I knew at school. I was that kind of bitter, resentful kid.

ILZ, I can only guess your mother didn't know what to do in the face of such enthusiasm.

That'll be $4500., at your service.

Santa Claus; the Easter bunny; the tooth fairy--they're all just fun things and an excuse to let someone else take the credit for what we parents do. Hey, that's pretty neat, ya know.

Good morning, all. Thanks for your input.

Re: truth


Oaters (or horse operas) are cowboy TV shows or movies. Thus "oater dogma" is the belief system inherent in the genre. (Just love talking like that.) For example:
* as you mentioned, no one comes to any harm from being knocked out
* you can have a gun shot out of your hand with little more than a sore wrist as a result.
* you can get up to twenty shots out of a six shooter if you are the good guy
* bad guys never stay around after they tie you up and leave you for dead
* horses can be run at a gallop for miles and miles and never work up a lather

Oh man, I could go on forever on things you learn from popular movies, oater or otherwise:
- foreign people, when talking to each other, prefer to speak in English
- when cars crash they always explode or catch fire
- people can fall through panes of glass without suffering any harm
- space ships can make noises in a vacuum
- bad guys like to spoil their plans by gloating to the good guys
and so on.

truth
And Buck Rogers' space ship's exhaust fell DOWN out of the tail pipe.
Ever notice that in the early tarzan movies the "native" population contained Phillipinos, Mexican Indians, Africans, Asians, anyone who was "colored."

Re: truth
Unless you're horse is named "Little Blackie" and a fat Marshall shares it with you!

After years of watching "The Mickey Mouse Club," I finally realized that Annette Funicello wasn't really that hot. Of course I was 40 by then.

After years of watching "The Mickey Mouse Club," I finally realized that Annette Funicello wasn't really that hot. Of course I was 40 by then; and so was she.

Good morning all.

coluber, lol. I don't have one thought and shan't until after I get some coffee.

Great stories, all.


I clearly remember mine. I had a closetful of toys, and I remember my mother telling me to fill up a box with the ones I don't use as much anymore because we were going to donate them to some kids "who weren't as fortunate as us".

I didn't put much thought into that concept, and just did as I was told.

Box in tow, I jump in the car, and a few minutes later, we were at this incredibly delapidated house. Two flights up a narrow hallway, I found myself in a long, 1 1/2 bedroom apartment. It smelled wierd, there was clutter all over, was not very clean, and the "bedroom" consisted of three matresses on the floor, separated from the main area by a sheet hanging from the ceiling.

I was introduced to two children, my age, who were absoutely ectatic at the box of toys (toys that I hadn't touched in weeks).

We played together while my mother spoke with their mother about something (she was a clinical practitioner at the time), and when I left, I felt like a much different person than when I came in.

Right then planted the seed in my brain that started me thinking in a "larger" sense, if you know what I mean.

I'll never forget it.

Heywood, How very dear, my friend. I must leave now, but I will respond with another anecdote tomorrow.

Goodnight,
From Florida