One of the toughest roles as a parent these days is to police what kids watch on television, computers, and iPods. You may take the television out of house, for example, but there are still ways that compromise oozes in. If a parent wants to run a family boot camp, any dad could ban all of the above, plus all outside activities. They could lock their kids in closets, but that would not solve the problem—and create a whole lot more.
No family is immune from the ravages of a degenerate society, no matter how hard parents try. We can live on colonies, or hide away in the deepest recesses of the province—off the grid, if you will—but things will creep in, you can be sure of that.
One of the best ways to deal with the problem is to, well, deal with the problem. Parents need to be more pro-active--easier said than done, for sure. Part of pro-active parenting involve talking about things, having reasonable boundaries, and taking time to watch movies with the kids—so long as they could agree upon which movies to watch.
And finding said movies that parents and kids agree upon could be a real stickler.
Part of the reason for the above “rant” is because I recently sat down with myself to watch one of the funniest comedians of all time, the one and only Red Skelton. (If you're under forty-years-old, there's a good chance that you haven't a clue who he is.)
Just to show my age, let me add the names of George Burns, Jack Benny, and Milton Berle. And in terms of programmes, there is nothing funnier than Hogan's Heroes, The Dick Van Dyck Show, and The Red Green Show.
Comedians today that I really enjoy include the likes of Robin Williams, Steve Martin, Billy Crystal, Martin Short, John Candy, Chevy Chase, et al. Styles of humour may be relative—ie., yours may be different from mine--but there should still be some sort of standard as what is appropriate, what is not.
Other comedians may be “funny,” but only in a lewd sense: Their humour is so laced with f-bombs and sexual innuendos, that I question whether that is real humour or witty filth. Is it really necessary to stand behind a mike and spew out a profanity here and an raunchy joke there?
I can put my money where my mouth is, because I have tried to keep my word play in this column clean and witty—though I'm sure I don't always succeed. I have never mocked readers about morals, sexual orientation, or lifestyle choices, regardless of my personal conviction in these matters.
That's where Red Skelton excelled. No attacks on skin colour, political orientation, or religious beliefs in his performance. Just good old-fashioned slapstick and quippy humour. Watching him the other night made me both happy and sad: happy, because it was so well done; sad, because, as a culture, we have lost something when it comes to comedy--a loss of innocence, simplicity, and wholesomeness.
It makes me want to sit down with a glass of milk and watch the Burns and Allen show one more time. Hopefully with kids in tow.
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