The article was basically about how a regular schedule and normal physical activity being of a greater benefit to children, Therick responded with the following great story about his brother and his dad...
Here's his story...
I had a brother that was very active as a child.........
Understand that the setting was the late 60's. Dr. Spock was just in the process of destroying our parental capabilities and we had a father that was wise beyond his years. He was a barber as I was growing up. I always thought of myself as a Charlie Brown type of person. (That was after I found out that Charlies dad was also a barber.)
My dad was a great man, "Pillar of the Community" kind of dad. He ran one of only 2 barber shops in my home town and his was THE place to get a haircut. All of the politicians, police, sheriff dept, firemen, rich and poor came to his place at least twice a month. My dad also had a host of medical problems, 15 major operations on his kidneys and 200 minor surgical procedures. I grew up in Shands Hospital in Gainesville, Fla. Anyway, he was very street smart. Standing behind a barber chair will make you smart if you're smart enough to shut your mouth and listen most of the time.
Getting back to my brother...... he was a big kid for his age and full of mischief. When he stopped growing he was 6ft 8in. tall and around 240 lbs. In the evenings, just about an hour before bedtime, my dad and us usually were in the front yard playing catch or throwing a football around when my dad would say.... "Ty, bet you can't run to that telephone pole and back in 30 seconds...".
He was about 6 at the time and he bit hook, line and sinker every night. "I bet I can," Ty would say.
"O.K. on your mark, get set, GO," Dad would yell while staring at his watch. Off Ty would go, dust flying and shirt tail flappin'. Down to the pole, about 60 yards away, touch it and back he'd come. "AWWWWW!" Dad would say.... "Almost made it" he'd say with a glint in his eye.
"Let me try again." Ty would say, hands on knees, gasping for air. "O.K., let me know when you're ready."
"I'm ready" he'd say still grabbing breaths. "On your mark, set, GO" Dad would yell once again. Of course he never made it. He was always "just late". This would go on for as long a thirty minutes sometimes but Ty never seemed to care. All he ever wanted to do was get to that pole and back in under 30 seconds.
Finally Dad would say, "time to take a bath" and in we'd go. Fresh in our pajamas, teeth brushed and into bed we'd go just about sunset. For some reason, they never had to medicate him for hyperactivity, although I'm sure he would have been diagnosed by todays standards. Oh, and he slept very well each night. Go figure.
The one thing I can attest to is this: ...the older I get, the smarter my dad was. I miss him every day.
therick
Here's his story...
I had a brother that was very active as a child.........
Understand that the setting was the late 60's. Dr. Spock was just in the process of destroying our parental capabilities and we had a father that was wise beyond his years. He was a barber as I was growing up. I always thought of myself as a Charlie Brown type of person. (That was after I found out that Charlies dad was also a barber.)
My dad was a great man, "Pillar of the Community" kind of dad. He ran one of only 2 barber shops in my home town and his was THE place to get a haircut. All of the politicians, police, sheriff dept, firemen, rich and poor came to his place at least twice a month. My dad also had a host of medical problems, 15 major operations on his kidneys and 200 minor surgical procedures. I grew up in Shands Hospital in Gainesville, Fla. Anyway, he was very street smart. Standing behind a barber chair will make you smart if you're smart enough to shut your mouth and listen most of the time.
Getting back to my brother...... he was a big kid for his age and full of mischief. When he stopped growing he was 6ft 8in. tall and around 240 lbs. In the evenings, just about an hour before bedtime, my dad and us usually were in the front yard playing catch or throwing a football around when my dad would say.... "Ty, bet you can't run to that telephone pole and back in 30 seconds...".
He was about 6 at the time and he bit hook, line and sinker every night. "I bet I can," Ty would say.
"O.K. on your mark, get set, GO," Dad would yell while staring at his watch. Off Ty would go, dust flying and shirt tail flappin'. Down to the pole, about 60 yards away, touch it and back he'd come. "AWWWWW!" Dad would say.... "Almost made it" he'd say with a glint in his eye.
"Let me try again." Ty would say, hands on knees, gasping for air. "O.K., let me know when you're ready."
"I'm ready" he'd say still grabbing breaths. "On your mark, set, GO" Dad would yell once again. Of course he never made it. He was always "just late". This would go on for as long a thirty minutes sometimes but Ty never seemed to care. All he ever wanted to do was get to that pole and back in under 30 seconds.
Finally Dad would say, "time to take a bath" and in we'd go. Fresh in our pajamas, teeth brushed and into bed we'd go just about sunset. For some reason, they never had to medicate him for hyperactivity, although I'm sure he would have been diagnosed by todays standards. Oh, and he slept very well each night. Go figure.
The one thing I can attest to is this: ...the older I get, the smarter my dad was. I miss him every day.
therick