"Familia"

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The Stretch of Life    by Cassiopeia Raine

What is it, about stretching something out, to its farthest limits, ending with the snapping of, or breaking it, that is so fascinating to the young in age?

Is it a measure of accomplishment, in testing limits?  Is it the power in the hand to manipulate something, of controlling its existence?  To be, or not to be, whole?  Is it the anticipation of the objects final snap?  The noise that occurs, the subsequent tingling vibration left in the hands?  Could it be, merely a common science experiment, that all kids everywhere, do naturally?

I'd like to think that there is some hidden knowledge, in the things that we do so naturally when we are children, that can be applied in adult-hood. But the stretching principal in real life, doesn't seem to be any fun, anymore, especially since the point is now, not to snap.

Adult-hood is more suited to taffy being always in the making, rather than the taffy that's separated, hardened up, packaged, and ready for all children everywhere to begin their science experiments on. Adult-hood continues to test our stretching skills, in careers, marriage, parenting, and when it is, that you will be able to find the time, to mow your lawn before it grows taller than your that of neighbors.

The standards of this stretching, being more inclined toward the example our parents impressed upon us, in how or how not to stretch, than in the skill of finally figuring out how to break Stretch Armstrong. We also have our very own group of peers, of which, rather than joining in along with in common knowledge; we're trying to stretch more and more to keep up with them in some way.

Where are you to go to then, to know if you are doing fine, or not. The only knowledge bracket that doesn't appear to be motivated by the stretching principle anymore, is that of the grandparents. Hopefully we've listened to and observed what we could, from them while they were still around.

This kind of knowledge then, that of the experienced, who have a bird's eye-view of the layout of the land, from the flights take off, to setting down on the landing field, would be more than beneficial in helping us with the designing of our flight plans.

There are expansive houses that contain live knowledge. Institutions that no reference book, could come close to holding, the value of information, housed there. There are lone souls sitting on park benches, on porch swings, or inhabiting their homes that hold entire viable chapters on adult-hood. There are the older people in your life. We to them are young in age, stretching out our taffy, as they have already stretched.

Do we then go to the taffy experts, or are we planning on our taffy, automatically being better, in proportion to today's advancement of, better taffy making technology. Are these taffy machines truly better designed, stronger, capable of producing a superior product? Would we trade in any of our PTA meetings, that say would be discussing whether to sell Holiday greeting cards, in the spring, or closer to that of the holidays; and instead go to a nursing home and listen for an hour, to accounts of actual life-knowledge that has been pre-collected?

I can tell you, I have never, and I think for most, that alternative would be strange, if not considered a silly thing to do. I do however, listen to numerous story-tellings from peers, in countless forms of media. I'll read paragraphs of answers to one single question, when I thought that the question was lame to begin with. I'll make judgments in the things to buy for my family based on the advertisements, from the same people who make the products. I might even think for a moment, that I actually should consider buying a device that is designed for cleaning a child's ear, so you won't stick the Q-tip in too far. I've let children's programs, run their course on my TV, even though I detest the makers hidden agendas. I've had my little girl consider another little girl on one of these programs, a role model, that I considered to be an out and out prissy brat. I've signed up for things, for the children's sake, that I neither believed in, nor supported the over-exaggerations of, not knowing ahead of time the exact requirements involved in this mission. I've listened complimentary, to school officials, friends, reverends, who've made comparisons with knowledge that I thought was crazy, and return with a reply such as, "I can see what you're saying."?

Can we, in these kinds of situations, stretch any farther? Do tell, it isn't possible, but we know there's more. If not at hand, we can certainly search it out. It's not the stretching skills themselves, we should question; but a matter of this generations strange, unnatural courtesy, in stretching to accommodate issues and suggestions. The same that we don't believe in, like or support.

Before you know it, we'll be leading the pack. Our job will be to give all sorts of wonderful advice, to those behind us in line, saying, I know you might not agree with this, want to do this, buy this, feel this, believe this; but hang in there, you'll grow to like it. I did. This taffy machine, in which we are involved in supporting is a monster, that rarely puts out a product qualified to be called taffy. Instead it puts out, new un-improved, daily increasing amounts of gobbledy-gook, that no-one before has ever heard, and that no one in their right mind would stop to consider.

We have earned are stretching ability medals. How about we use some of this resilience and stretch back again, and not just eat any product called taffy, that is handed to us, with the comment of, "here pull on this". There is certainly enough real stretching to do, by being adults, staying married, and raising children to begin with. If you don't believe me ask one of those from the knowledge bracket of already having been there, and see if they don't think its plenty difficult enough, to be successful in the stretch of living, without all of our new extra additives of nonsense. And most of all remember, "If at first you don't succeed ... blame it on your parents."

From my "familia" to yours,.

Cassiopeia Raine.


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