In the seats around my own on this train, African-American grandmothers are holding an impromptu confab on the subject of the sins of our age. ... The topic: A generation has been lost because the art of dispensing regular beatings for infractions, large and small, is in the process of being discarded by hapless parents. One proclaims, through a wizened grimace, "My father ... took to hitting me all the time, and it never did me one bit of harm."
Sure thing, Granny ... each blow served to move you closer to God in his Heaven.
I, myself, in a fit of righteous fury, sent a troop of fire ants his way when I was five.
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