The Treatment Program of Absurdity: 1

Getting my Ass Whooped

When I returned to Great Ascendency, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, the guys in the transition house had to go over to core house for dinner. I was exhausted, since I had just flown from New York to Salt Lake City, but I wanted participation credit, so I decided to join along. During the meal, Adam and I talked about what meds they were on as children.
“How long were you on Risperdal for?”
“Two months; I hated it because it made me feel confused.”
“Same!”
“You see, guys, in my day, we didn’t get no medication, we got our asses whooped when we didn’t behave.”
“Winfield Reese, you used to get your ass whooped?
“Oh Yes, my mom and dad used everything: Belts, canes, a switch when I really acted up.”
“Where was CPS?”
“I once threatened my mom with CPS, and she told me, ‘The phone is over here, and the belt is over there. If you call CPS, I will beat you till they get here; and once I get out of prison, I will beat you again,’ in which I said, ‘I think I will go to my room,’ and my mom commended me. She never forgot anything. Like, one time, when I was 8, I was goofing around in a J.C. Penny, and my mom turned to me and said, ‘JUST WAIT TILL WE GET HOME.’ We got home; I ate dinner; I took a shower; I got into bed; and so I thought, ‘She forgot, she forgot, it is going to be ok,’ but then I heard my bedroom door open, around 10:00 P.M., and my mom was like, ‘I TOLD YOU TO BEHAVE (SMACK,) I TOLD YOU TO BEHAVE (SMACK.)’
Everyone began laughing.
‘So, back then, this wasn’t frowned upon?’
‘No, back in the 80’s, early 90’s, everyone got their ass beat when they acted up. If you told a teacher your parents hit you, their response would be, ‘You shouldn’t have acted up.’ One time, while I was in Sears, I kept asking my mom to go home, and when my voice slightly raised, she took a belt of the rack and began whooping my ass with it; when a sales associate tried to confront her, she turned to him, and said, ‘DO YOU WANT A PIECE OF THIS.’ Another time, in the mall, I got a little fresh, and when she took of the belt, I grabbed it from her, but she always carried around a spare.’
Everyone laughed!
“What was the worst ass whooping that you received?”
“When I stole something. After having picked up my jacket from the cleaners, my mom and I went to the mall. At the toy store, there was this Hot Wheels car that I had my eyes on for weeks. Every time we went to the mall, I would slightly peel off a piece of the box, and that day, it was enough that I could take it, and put it in my pocket. Upon completing the deed, my mom asked where we had been, and she took me home. While in the car, I pulled the Hot Wheels car out of my pocket, and my mom asked me where I got it. I lied and told her I brought it from home, but I forgot that I had just picked up my coat from the cleaners. She immediately turned the car around, and brought me back to the mall. She said, ‘WHERE DID YOU GET THE TOY,’ and she shushed me when I began crying. Finally, I showed her where I got the toy, and the lady accepted my apology. My mom was so composed that I thought everything was going to be ok, but once we got in the car, she turned around and said, ‘DIDN’T I EVER TELL YOU NOT TO STEAL (WHOOP?)’ I got my ass whooped every day after school for the rest of the week. ‘Winfield, do you know what time it is?” DAMN!’
Everyone laughed again.
“Do you have strong memories of her showing you compassion when you go into trouble?”
“Oh sure! One time, my friend, Jimmy, and I decided to take the shopping carts from a local super market, and race them down the street. Upon racing them down the hill, mine got caught in a crack, and I flung from it; and even though nothing was broken, I was lacerated to the bone. When my mom found me on the ground, she turned to me and said, ‘WHERE DID YOU GET THE DAMN SHOPPING CART?,’ and, despite my medical state, she made me return it to the store, while whooping my ass. Hey this was all natural; like if I acted up at my friend Toby’s house, his mom would whoop my ass; when I got home, my mom would whoop my ass; and my dad would be like, ‘JUNIOR, YOU DID WHAT?,’ and then he would whoop my ass. This is how things were back when I was growing up, and I turned out well, so I think society should still be this way.’