GRAB BAG

          Welcome to Pin-The-Tale on You.  Every mature person you will ever pass on the street has more-than-probably done things which could qualify them to be labeled 'bad' or 'good'.  It just depends on who tells your story; and, of course, how the game show audience reacts to it.  Our grab bag spinner will stop when your tale is finished.  Will it land on B, for bad?  G for Good?  Maybe you're a combination of equal parts bad and good; if so, the spinner could stop on A for Average.  And—of course—the audience may choose to reject you from the game (spinner on R); this normally only happens when someone competes who's mentally incapable of understanding the difference between good and bad.         

          I recall grab bags from childhood fairs.  A game of chance.  After money was paid (I recall it being ten cents) I reached into a large basket and removed (grabbed) a wrapped unknown paper-wrapped item (bag).  It was usually something worthless; and, by that, I don't mean it had zero value, just that the items were worth less than a dime.  Worth less.

          When we were children my mother told us this nursery rhyme (which, today, Squire attributes to the poet Longfellow):  There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead; when she was good, she was very very good, but when she was bad she was horrid. 

          For too-many-to-count I was (and am still) plagued by bad people.  I've had my fill.

          For seventeen of my twenty military years I worked in law enforcement, where (obviously) it was my job to prevent people from doing bad things, catch those who had already done bad things, and (once I became a supervisor) train my subordinates to do the preventing/catching while (most important) insure there were no subordinates who were bad.

          Lately, I've been (unsuccessfully) trying to help the two spawn of my fiancée grow up.  They, too, are worth less than the time and money I have invested.  Although one is nearly a legal adult (17 biological years old; mentally 14; emotionally 12) and the other is legally an adult (23 biological years old; mentally 15; emotionally ?...he has none) neither has the capacity, wherewithal, ability, or desire to be good.  Actually, the opposite seems to be true.

          Over the last eight months the 17 year old has spent 4 months in jail, (theft, drugs, various probation violations) the other 4 months he repeatedly ran away and lived on friends couches and the street.  There are no rules he is willing to obey.  He says jail means nothing.  It's just "hitting the pause button with free food and TV".  We've rarely seen him in 2011 except in various different courtrooms.

          My years as a cop tells me he is going to continue to commit more serious felonies and will spend the majority of his life in prison.

          The 23 year old has never had a drivers license, never held a job long enough to put on a résumé, and has also spent a few months in jail (drugs, resisting arrest).  His increasingly erratic behavior could be disorganized schizophrenia.  He refuses to discuss or ever admit he acts abnormally.  In his mind his actions (hording, inability to focus, substance abuse, lack of hygiene, obsessive-compulsive actions, and an inability to handle any property without damaging it) are normal.  He claims he doesn't need anything but to eat my food, waste my hot water, live in my guest room, and use my electricity.  We evicted him this week (and—don't get the wrong idea—he only visited for three weeks...which turned out to be 19 days too long). 

          My years as a member of civilized society tells me he is going to be a petty criminal who spends his life in dozens of different homeless shelters and on the street begging for spare change.

          The studio audience has voted.

          The spinner for the 17 year old lands on B...and it's leaning towards HORRID.

          The spinner for the 23 year old stopped on R.