can it really be a Baby Ruth?

In youth, I lived what most would define a sheltered life, the dependent of an Air Force officer. Being a fighter-pilot, Dad was often gone, leaving Mom at home, the authority figure. Her rule, more Theocracy (religious ideology), than Oligarchy (parental rule), being the house was mostly run single-parent, versus two-parent, and Mom, more faith based than secular. So, when trouble presented, it wasn’t – Wait till your father gets home – nope, it was – Jesus is going to get you! Words indicating her power came from a higher power, except the enforcement of choice was a wooden spoon, the delivered impact, from above, even though her hand graced the handle. Having gotten got once, trust me, I never wanted to get got again.

To understand, the military has the UCMJ – uniform code of military justice, the rules Dad lived and served under. Whereas Mom had the UCWS – uniform code of the wooden spoon. Now, on one hand, the UCMJ, clearly defined, where all military personnel adhered, knowing and understanding the boundaries. But the UCWS, and the enforcer herself, was ambiguous, dependent on feelings, mood, busyness, or external factors. Anything could play into the intensity and severity of reaction to an action committed. Had her day been rough, other siblings caused trouble, or something else gone wrong, the gambit came into view when the spoon came into her grasp.  

For overall effect, there was even a multi-purpose wall plaque of Jesus prominently displayed. He was always ever vigilant, but if there was a hint of wrongdoing, and Mom wasn’t sure, she’d have one place their hand on Jesus and swear innocence, while standing right beside them, spoon in hand, ready to dispense punishment if she perceived different. For me, not wanting to get got, well, let’s just say Mom thought I was a good kid. Even so, in the day-to-day, Mom didn’t bark orders, but did the mundane; keeping house, prepping meals, making her form of government appear altruistic. She did the work; I reaped the benefits. Except, I did have roles; attend school, stay clear of trouble, or don’t get got if getting into. Of her dictates: Kids are meant to be seen, not heard.

Anyway, for good behavior, she maintained a “junk drawer.” A smorgasbord of delectable items. If one obeyed, or … didn’t get got, they were welcomed to a treat now and again. One day, Mom allowed me something, and I settled on a candy bar – Baby Ruth. The first time I’d ever seen one. When I opened it, I questioned whether it was not what I thought, but something else. Mom assured me it wasn’t – Touch it, take a sniff, I promise, you’ll like it.

I did, and to this day, Baby Ruth is my all-time favorite candy bar, bar none. That first bite was a cornucopia of tongue slapping, brain draining love, of proportions unfathomable, all compliments of Mom. But, as life goes, those days are past, long gone, and the reality, I had to learn, her way wasn’t a sustainable way in the form of the government providing, even though, in my eyes, she was the government, and did the providing, albeit with Jesus protecting. Now, the dad part, which I never considered, was the money part, keeping the government part, which was Mom, afloat.

And as time ponders, my upbringing evokes a comical similarity of the Framer’s life under British rule by the king, including present day legislators desire to promise. But uncomically, for those who fought the American Revolution, their endgame was a desire in the Constitution’s design to correct the king’s rule from subjugation to independence. While today, legislators are striving to create a new design, transferring power from citizen independence to government dependence, their endgame, subjugated serfs. Although, the Framer’s through wordplay did forewarn, if one would only listen to intent:

The use of words is to express ideas. Perspicuity, therefore, requires not only that the ideas should be distinctly formed, but that they should be expressed by words distinctly and exclusively appropriate to them. But no language is so copious as to supply words and phrases for every complex idea, or so correct as not to include many equivocally denoting different ideas. Hence it must happen that however accurately objects may be discriminated in themselves, and however accurately the discrimination may be considered, the definition of them may be rendered inaccurate by the inaccuracy of the terms in which it is delivered. And this unavoidable inaccuracy must be greater or less, according to the complexity and novelty of the objects defined. When the Almighty himself condescends to address mankind in their own language, his meaning, luminous as it must be, is rendered dim and doubtful by the cloudy medium through which it is communicated. (Federalist 37)

In English, one word can have a multiple of meanings, each definition distinct in the context used, until. So, to understand the Constitution, its construction being an amalgamation of the past, the Framer’s present, being our past, and both they and our posterity’s future. A time continuum albeit different, yet the same, surrounding the document, ageless, able to stand time, if everyone responsible understands its meaning and intent – WE THE PEOPLE. And paradoxically, when pontifications by those desirous of controlling the nation, espouse an obfuscation of words intended to confuse the many into believing the few have the best interest of the many, be mindful of their intent. Or, in other words, the supposed perspicuous (clearly expressed or presented) nature of politics intended in America is like my favorite candy bar of youth. Only, once opened, one must ponder; even though it looks like a turd, is it also odoriferous, and if so, can it possibly be a Baby Ruth? I bet not!