<p>Was my mother’s favorite maxim when I was growing up :rolleyes:
** Big sigh**</p>
<p>I have to admit- there are things that I hope my kids don’t do/know about.
For instance- the night I met their dad ( when I was 18- he was 21) on a beach in Seattle, I let him drive me home ( about 20 miles away).</p>
<p>That was * far* from the only unsafe thing I did when a young adult.</p>
<p>It freaks me out sometimes, to think what my 20 yr old may be out there doing.</p>
<p>Well, 31 years later, I am still reluctant to tell the whole story. Let’s just say it involved sneaking into and out of somewhere I shouldn’t have been, it *didn’t *involve academic dishonesty, but if someone hadn’t lied for me I might have been expelled from my undergrad with a 3.9 two weeks prior to graduation.</p>
<p>One night, after dropping my sister off at her school, while driving to my own, I got a flat tire on the side of the highway. Some nice man stopped to help and drove me to the nearest gas station. Not something I would want my kids to do. On the other hand, with no cell phones, I had limited options.</p>
<p>I hate to admit this, but when I was about 32 I got in the car with the son of the former Mayor of Juarez, Mexico - I had been on the verge of foreclosing on property in El Paso owned by the family. He said he was driving me to the airport, and he did, but when I was in the car I realized that I was an utter idiot to have gotten in that car.</p>
<p>oh yah…hitchhiking around Italy when I was 19. I knew that was a bad idea on the 5th day, 9th car. Not too bright.
And then there were the punk rock days in starting in 1980…a two year long cautionary tale.</p>
<p>Picked up hitchhikers often around the local roads near my house.</p>
<p>Hitchhiked in Ireland (but with a group–still think it’d be fine.)</p>
<p>Raced cars on highways from the green light (only against friends…).</p>
<p>Went to a Slade/ZZ Top (yeah, I know) concert, general admission, in Asbury Park, NINE of us packed in my Gremlin.</p>
<p>Used to walk around the roof wall of my dorm in my first college–four stories up, about eight inches across. (I hated that school–it was my favorite distraction.)</p>
<p>OMG - Bad stuff. Dangerous, foolish, sinful, stupid, risky, illegal, and just plain wrong stuff. Both H and I. No details because I’m paranoid my kids might read it. Our kids are MUCH better people than we were. </p>
<p>(No excuses, but part of the problem was the era-- late 70’s/early 80’s-- that we grew up in. And the fact that our parents grew up in the 50’s and were clueless.)</p>
<p>There is no way my kids could be as “bad” as I was! Of course, I still am pretty foolish when given the opportunity. For example, two years ago when my daughter was auditioning at UCLA a dad asked me if I wanted to have a tour of the area since I was from NY and he was third generation LA. We had around 2 hours to kill so I said sure. My daughter was apoplectic that I did that and, in retrospect, I guess she was right. Oh well, peace, love, and understanding!</p>
<p>My brother (who is older) was pretty out there - would jump the turnstiles at the tube station, was a squatter for a while amongst other things. He hitch hiked once. The guy asked him if he had money for petrol (this was in England) which he did not, that was why he was hitch hiking. So when the petrol ran out the driver said he was dumping the car which, it turned out, he had stolen. </p>
<p>I was the stuffy, straight laced one and some of his experiences made me even more so.</p>
<p>I’m actually very open with my kids about what I did and didn’t do. I’ve let them know, whatever they think they are going to sneak past me, think again. I’ve either done it, or knew someone who did. They used to squirm when I talked to them about stuff. I let them know that my parents never talked to me because they thought if they did, they were encouraging poor behavior or giving me ideas I might not have in the first place. They were wrong. Knowledge is better than ignorance.</p>
<p>Their thoughts are it skips a generation… If you did it as a kid, you generally know what to look for in your kids (and their friends). If you were really good, you are more likely to be clueless. I don’t know about the clueless part, but I’ll let them think I’ve got the upper hand for now. The most powerful thing you can have is an open line of communication.</p>
<p>I’ve been a big nerd all my life, so not much. I accepted a ride home after a first date on a freezing night from a guy I then dated for 8 months. I shared a tree house on Maui with a guy on our third date, but he met my whole family on the second date, so it wasn’t as daring as it may sound.</p>
<p>I also stole a lot of meals from the undergrad dining halls during law school. I was performing with undergrad ensembles and we’d all eat together after rehearsal. It was pretty easy to blend in, so I would usually just stroll into the kitchen with my friends. I have trouble working up any guilt about that, given the number of meals I skipped as an undergrad, but I certainly wouldn’t tell a young person that what I did was right.</p>
<p>If any of my family or friends reads this, they will recognize me and my CC cover will be blown, but here goes:</p>
<p>1984, traveling in Guatemala with my brother who was in the Peace Corps. Wanted to cross Lake Atitlan, but missed the last ferry of the day. A boatload of soldiers (?! did we know they were soldiers?!) offered to take us across. But they didn’t go straight across the lake, they followed the shore line because they were looking for floating bodies after recent guerilla activity!</p>
<p>^garland… I was always the ‘black sheep’ of my family. Now I’m the one living in the 'burbs with the SUV, the kids, and the PTA. The rest of my family…not so much. Now that they know what REALLY bad kids were doing, they’ll tell you what I was doing doesn’t come close…more of an ‘off-white sheep’. Parents didn’t talk like we do. When your kids acted up, it was hush-hush. You never knew until 20yrs later what level of ‘bad’ your kid was!</p>
<p>I was the stuffy one in my teens but became a lot less judgmental when I was in my mid twenties. A friend and I (both office workers) shared a flat in London and the lady who lived below us was in a different profession. Despite her lifestyle she was actually quite a fragile soul below her tough as nail exterior and was also a really kind person and we became good friends with her (she did not use her home for business I hasten to add). Learned to be cautious about where we went with her. Restaurants with normal public entrances ok. Certain other restaurants (where the clientele all ducked for cover when we took photos of our night out) and hole in the wall Clubs, not so much. I learned this after I had gone to eat with her one night and on the way home she decided to take me to one of her favorite clubs which was basically frequented by ,um, pimps and hos (is that polite enough for CC?). The club owner who went by the name of Needles asked me what on earth I was doing in the establishment (so I guess I don’t look like a ho :rolleyes:) and asked if i would mind if he called me a taxi to take me home. Which he kindly did. So I got thrown out of a club for being the wrong sort of person but in a nice way (well I could have stayed but I really didn’t want to).</p>
<p>I would be horrified if my daughter got herself into a situation like that and probably would prefer she not befriend people in sketchy occupations!! We never came to any harm but that was probably by luck rather than any good sense on our part.</p>
<p>I would be horrified if my daughter got herself into a situation like that and probably would prefer she not befriend people in sketchy occupations!! We never came to any harm but that was probably by luck rather than any good sense on our part.</p>
<p>OMG I love these stories.
Needles?
umm did he have piercings?</p>
Not that I recall. This was a while ago (30 years :eek: ) and all the piercings were not the rage back then. I suspect it may have referred to other types of needles - I didn’t inquire to closely to anything at the time - just accepted his kind escort to the taxi he called and bolted for home. The name was unusual enough it has stuck in my head all these years.</p>
<p>When I was an exchange student in Denmark (15 yrs old), I told my farm based family that I had a girl friend in Copenhagan. This was a lie (needless to say). I would take the train in on Friday night, check into a sketchy hostel, and drink, dance and have a great time at various nefarious night clubs.( And come back cool as a cucumber Sunday night.)
When D was going to study in Italy her junior summer (in college) she stayed with trusted friends and I had the unmitigated nerve to worry.</p>