Speaking my mind

Over the years I have had a creeping suspicion that maybe I am not quite in tune with the rest of the culture. First music turned into whiny six-chord blathering. Then came "new" movies that were "reboots" of old movies, most of which stunk to begin with. Then one day the dam burst. I had spoken my mind.

Now, for those of you who somehow wandered into Idaho uninvited, you might not realize that "speaking your mind" has a long and hallowed tradition in these parts. When a person says they're about to speak their mind it's a warning to all present that they should take any medications on-hand, tie their hat to their head, and hold on for the unvarnished truth that simply needed to be said was about to come forth!

Results varied. Sometimes people looked down, kicked a rock, and murmured agreement. Sometimes people jumped up, shouted it was straight from heaven and somebody should probably do something about. Sometimes they might even disagree and say, "He's an idiot," in which case everybody would nod agreement and that'd be the end of it. No matter the outcome nobody got too upset about it. Nobody needed counselling and arbitration to help them cope with somebody's idiotic opinion. There were no "free opinion zones" to shelter others from hearing someone speaking their mind.

Sure, once in a while, you'd get punched in the face, but there were strict unwritten rules about that. You knew you probably wouldn't get decked if you didn't insult their wife, their truck, or the questionable nature of their personal genetic background. Even then the person would say, "I support his right to speak his mind. I also support my right to beat him to a bloody pulp for being the southerly end of a northbound appaloosa!" And, of course, the punched could very quickly turn into a puncher and then everyone would get a free ticket to a boxing smoker. Times were simpler back then.

Apparently we are no longer in those times. I spoke my mind and you would have thought that I had threatened to enslave all people with purple hair, assassinate the supreme leader of Nowhereistan, and stomp on puppies to the tune of Footloose. Suddenly there had to be endless meetings with long conversations about "feelings" with egghead arbitrators and "counselors". There was great wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Once I was done gnashing my teeth I was told to shut-up and behave myself. What could I do? What could I say? How could I have defended my 1st amendment rights? The world has moved beyond all that. When a man is deemed wrong by the arbitrary court of others' opinions he can no longer speak in today's world. So I bowed my head in defeat. There comes a time when even an old curmudgeon must admit times have changed. With trembling lips I finally found my voice again, "Yes, dear."