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Post by snsurone on May 22, 2019 17:08:12 GMT
In movies and TV shows centered in rural areas (especially westerns), whenever some kid (generally a boy) was disrespectful to his elders and caused mischief, the result was a trip to the woodshed and a good ol'-fashioned "whupping". I don't know if such discipline was ever meted on girls; generally they were complacent and obedient.
I bring this up because, IMHO, the US has a need for the return of "the woodshed". Nowadays, if an adult so much as raises a voice to a kid, he/she is in risk of arrest for abuse! As a result, we have several generations of spoiled, entitled brats!
I remember an early episode of MY THREE SONS, where there was a scene of young Chip pulling a wagon holding a toddler up a sloping street, only to be confronted by a bully on a porch fence aiming a deadly slingshot squarely at him. At the last minute, the brat's father pulled him away and spanked him hard. I bet that if there was an audience, they would have applauded!
Maybe I'm hopelessly old-fashioned, but I believe that the best "therapy" for some kids is the "good. ol'-fashioned whupping".
Anyone agree?
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Post by mattgarth on May 22, 2019 17:28:23 GMT
In John Wayne's grand film finale THE SHOOTIST, angry boarder 'J.B. Books' has just learned that his horse was traded away by young Ron Howard, and demands to know from his landlady (Lauren Bacall) where her son Ron is.
"Over in the woodshed," she responds.
"That's appropriate!", he notes.
(no, he doesn't do the deed -- which is the other purpose of a woodshed)
Sorry -- just adding a film footnote.
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Post by Prime etc. on May 22, 2019 17:32:47 GMT
I'm curious to know of movies which actually show a woodshed being used for storing and removing wood.
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Post by mattgarth on May 22, 2019 17:46:24 GMT
I seem to recall farm widow Sally Field reluctantly having to take her young son to the woodshed for punishment in PLACES IN THE HEART.
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Post by snsurone on May 22, 2019 18:07:42 GMT
In John Wayne's grand film finale THE SHOOTIST, angry boarder 'J.B. Books' has just learned that his horse was traded away by young Ron Howard, and demands to know from his landlady (Lauren Bacall) where her son Ron is.
"Over in the woodshed," she responds.
"That's appropriate!", he notes.(no, he doesn't do the deed -- which is the other purpose of a woodshed) Sorry -- just adding a film footnote. Never saw that movie, Matt. Who actually did the "whupping"?
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Post by mattgarth on May 22, 2019 18:36:35 GMT
Sally did it in her film -- Duke did not in his.
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Post by Doghouse6 on May 23, 2019 0:58:58 GMT
Well, you asked, snsurone, so I have to say I can't agree. I was subjected to enough instances of "whupping" (or "a lickin,'" as my father called them) that, before long, I could no longer remember which one was for what. All they taught me was anger and resentment. And of contemporaries who were likewise disciplined, to a man (and a couple women), they grew up with the belief that physical force was an acceptable form of conflict resolution. Thank goodness something in my makeup rejected that kind of thinking, and unless it involves self-preservation and survival, it's never been anything I can respect. The enduring lessons I learned about good behavior and discipline came not from my father's blows, but from my mother's calm and coldly withering verbal denunciations. Those cut to the quick, where slaps and punches landed only at surface level. That's not to say she didn't have her own temper, but the rarity of its emergence made it especially memorable, and it, too, was confined to verbal expression. And no, I never had children, for which I'm also grateful; although I abhor physical violence, I'd have been a lousy parent, having inherited too much of my father's hair-trigger impatience and volatility. Interesting side note: my siblings and I were regaled with his stories of getting "a lickin'" from his own father, whom I knew only as the gentlest, most benign man you could imagine, so those stories simply never computed. His mother, Grandma Bertie, on the other hand, was a no-nonsense and often gruff woman, and I learned after Dad's death from his only surviving sibling that it was actually she who was the family disciplinarian, and the one who'd grab a belt from the closet and administer the "lickin.'" I've sometimes pondered the psychology of that sort of transference and how it manifested itself in my own upbringing. None of this means to say I advocate coddling or permissiveness; it's simply that there are other forms of discipline that, in my experience, leave more lasting and beneficial impressions. All the people I admire most are those whose parents were, beyond merely caregivers, friends and allies, and with whom camaraderie and mutual respect was engendered early, allowing those qualities to carry over into adulthood. That's something I always missed; it's in such relationships that expressions of disappointment and disapproval are most keenly felt, and from which lessons are most likely to linger. We're all different and perhaps I'm unusual or off-base, but I honestly don't recall learning anything of value from people I couldn't respect. Aren't you glad you asked?
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Post by snsurone on May 23, 2019 11:45:58 GMT
Believe me, Dog--I don't disagree at all. I grew up with an abusive mother who would slap and spank me for the slightest reason, such as "getting in (her) way". It took many years for me to realize that she was mentally ill, and she never wanted either my brother or me. Like you, I decided never to have kids because I knew I'd treat them the same way (and because I basically don't like kids, !). Understand that I'm not referring to the beatings that Bing Crosby regularly delivered to his four oldest sons. And "woodshed" is merely a metaphor. It's just that today's parents are afraid to discipline their kids in ANY way, and as a result, they are incorrigible brats! And, to tell the truth, I have to question just how efficient "time-outs" and "grounding" really are at curbing bad behavior. Seems we have a few things in common, Dog.
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Post by snsurone on May 23, 2019 17:23:08 GMT
My mother was 35 when she had me--pretty much near the end of the "biological clock" in 1948. At that time, my brother was in school full time, and I imagine my mother liked the solitude of her days--she never was a "people person". But then, my brother began to ask why his classmates had brothers and/or sisters and he didn't. My family lived in a small jerk-water town where everyone knew everyone else's business, and if word got around that Mrs. N. would not have any more children, not only would it affect the family's social status, but probably my father's career as well! So--along came I! From the very start, my mother hated having to care for an infant and later a toddler, and I suffered for it.
So, you see, illan--age does not always equal wisdom.
P.S. I realize that this discussion might not be suitable for the Classic Film Board, but, still, I'm mighty glad we're having it.
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Post by teleadm on May 23, 2019 18:12:32 GMT
Sadly not unusual in Swedish schools in the 1930s up to the mid-1960s when physical punishment in schools was outlawed. Bend over a chair and down with the trousers and the whipping begun. The picture is from the Swedish movie The Slingshot 1993. Though this specific kid wasn't punished because he had done anything wrong, but because his mother were Jewish, and this specific teacher was a nazi sympathizer. A period movie taking place in the 1930s.
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Post by Doghouse6 on May 23, 2019 20:16:59 GMT
Believe me, Dog--I don't disagree at all. I grew up with an abusive mother who would slap and spank me for the slightest reason, such as "getting in (her) way". It took many years for me to realize that she was mentally ill, and she never wanted either my brother or me. Like you, I decided never to have kids because I knew I'd treat them the same way (and because I basically don't like kids, LOL!). Understand that I'm not referring to the beatings that Bing Crosby regularly delivered to his four oldest sons. And "woodshed" is merely a metaphor. It's just that today's parents are afraid to discipline their kids in ANY way, and as a result, they are incorrigible brats! And, to tell the truth, I have to question just how efficient "time-outs" and "grounding" really are at curbing bad behavior. Seems we have a few things in common, Dog. ;-) Thanks, snsurone. Perhaps I took the "woodshed" reference too much to heart. llanwydd does bring up a salient point about the times of our own youths when parents, and even public school teachers, were virtually unrestricted in their choices of discipline. A friend who became so fearful of his father's next assault once walked to the nearest police station, where he was told that he must have deserved whatever he got, and to go back home and "take his medicine." My situation was never that bad, and to tell the truth, I dreaded "groundings" and loss of privileges more than I did physical punishments. About today's parents, I wonder if reluctance to discipline is symptomatic of a larger issue, that of a disengagement from kids' daily lives and rearing in all areas. The single-income, 9 to 5, weekends-off "leave work at work/dinner together" home has become a relic; parents are busier; offspring are engaging each other on social media, but not with their families; they're all largely unaware and uninvolved with what's going on in one another's lives. Dunno, really; just a thought based only on my observance from a distance.
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Post by snsurone on May 23, 2019 22:36:38 GMT
Well, Dog--the first years of my life was in that LEAVE IT TO BEAVER/FATHER KNOWS BEST kind of suburbia (although far from as prosperous). But let me tell you, my life was nothing like that! No sooner would my father step into the door than my mother would lash into him! And they conversed in Yiddish, which, of course, my brother and I couldn't understand, so we were never part of the family dynamic. Generally, I was put to bed right after supper, mainly because my mother just didn't want me around. Even after I could stay up later, I don't ever remember a real family dialogue. I can remember one time when my father and I did have a deep discussion (I had asked him what caused the Great Depression) and he was explaining it to me when my mother demanded that the subject be changed! See? She was PO'd at being left out of a conversation, but didn't give a rat's ass if I was!
But as I said, she was mentally ill, and I wonder what life would have been had they divorced. Most likely, it would have been an even bigger hell, as in those days kids of divorce would automatically been given to the mother. My father was basically a wimp, under the thumbs of his older sister and brother, and that's probably why he stayed in such a dysfunctional relationship. He was the youngest of his siblings, but was the first of them to die. Not surprising!
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Post by Doghouse6 on May 23, 2019 23:37:58 GMT
Well, Dog--the first years of my life was in that LEAVE IT TO BEAVER/FATHER KNOWS BEST kind of suburbia (although far from as prosperous). But let me tell you, my life was nothing like that! No sooner would my father step into the door than my mother would lash into him! And they conversed in Yiddish, which, of course, my brother and I couldn't understand, so we were never part of the family dynamic. Generally, I was put to bet right after supper, mainly because my mother just didn't want me around. Even after I could stay up later, I don't ever remember a real family dialogue. I can remember one time when my father and I did have a deep discussion (I had asked him what caused the Great Depression) and he was explaining it to me when my mother demanded that the subject be changed! See? She was PO'd at being left out of a conversation, but didn't give a rat's ass if I was! But as I said, she was mentally ill, and I wonder what life would have been had they divorced. Most likely, it would have been an even bigger hell, as in those days kids of divorce would automatically been given to the mother. My father was basically a wimp, under the thumbs of his older sister and brother, and that's probably why he stayed in such a dysfunctional relationship. He was the youngest of his siblings, but was the first of them to die. Not surprising! You clearly had it rougher than I. My parents were generally genial people - Dad on the quieter, low-key side, except when Dr. Jekyll turned to Mr. Hyde and he went on the warpath; Mom a sunny, Doris Day type who needed a lot of provocation to acknowledge any type of unpleasantness - but there was always a gulf between they and my siblings that made honest connection difficult. That's why I always envied people who had friendly give-and-take with their parents, and marveled at those relationships. There are probably few among us who don't have "baggage" of one kind or another, huh?
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Post by snsurone on May 24, 2019 0:37:32 GMT
Since then, I have had a fear of authority figures, such as teachers, bosses, etc. Which, I think brings this thread full circle. Nowadays, parents are so afraid of authority figures that they let their kids run wild.
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Post by Doghouse6 on May 24, 2019 18:52:29 GMT
snsurone Happened to see a film last night that, in one scene, directly addresses the topic of your thread. First, a little about the film itself (this being the CFB). So Goes My Love (1946) - A gently humorous family story that's a fictionalized account of real-life figure Hiram Maxim (Don Ameche), a quietly nonconformist inventor with little patience for the social conventions of 19th-century Brooklyn, and his equally individualistic wife Jane (Myrna Loy), who carefully negotiates the conflicting demands of her husband's personality and those of Victorian-era respectability. Little-remembered, the film's chief latter-day claim to fame is that it's the one for which the Universal Studio set that later served as the home of The Munsters was constructed, first on a soundstage (photo below) and later moved to the exterior backlot, where it still remains. In the sequence in question, their young, rambunctious son Percy (Bobby Driscoll), has played a rather cruel prank on Jane's stuffy, passive/aggressively disapproving cousin (Molly Lamont), and Jane decrees that it's time for "a whipping." Hiram diffidently reminds her, "I've never whipped him before," but Jane persists, so Hiram reluctantly takes Percy outside to cut a suitable "switch" from a bush. Cutting and trimming one branch after another, Hiram examines each for its thickness, flexibility and strength, while an uncontrite Percy becomes so caught up in the process that he's soon offering his enthusiastic assistance: "Here's a good one, Papa."Lacking an actual woodshed, Hiram solemnly leads Percy up to his bedroom as Jane and their housekeeper Emily (Renie Riano) look on, and cousin Garnet intones, "Spare the rod; spoil the child." Once upstairs, Hiram proceeds to test each one on the bed, systematically comparing his evaluations with Percy's, while cutaways to the trio downstairs show their reactions to each "whoosh-wack" they hear: Garnet looks smug; Jane begins to flinch; Emily mutters defiantly, "They'll never make him cry." One after another, the switches prove inadequate to the task, and Percy volunteers, "I know, Papa: the walking stick Mama bought you," which he eagerly retrieves from the closet. Hiram suggests Percy try it out himself, encouraging with each blow to the bed, "Harder, son." After hearing repeated "whoosh-WOMPs," Jane can stand it no more and, charging up to the room, finds Percy happily beating the bed with the stick and realizes what's been going on. Throwing her arms around Hiram, she says, "I'm so glad you didn't whip him."
With Jane still in his arms, Hiram looks down at Percy and says gravely, "You know, son, your mother's been very good to you. But you haven't been very good to her."
And with that, Percy suddenly dissolves into repentant tears, embracing his mother with apologies and promises to behave. I just thought it was funny and interesting I should come across such a scene at this time.
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Post by mattgarth on May 24, 2019 19:11:10 GMT
OK, not a woodshed -- instead it's a backstage dressing room where corporal punishment is applied:
____________________________________________________________________________________
The spanking scene in YANKEE DOODLE DANDY, when fresh young Georgie Cohan's big mouth has just ruined a possible vaudeville gig for the family.
Mom Rosemary deCamp gives dad Walter Huston permission to inflict punishment.
"But not on the mouth -- he has to sing." "All right, not on the mouth."
"Not on the hand -- he has to play the violin." "All right, not on the hand."
So dad pulls George across his lap, declaring: "Here's one place without any talent!"
___________________________________________________________________________________
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Post by snsurone on May 24, 2019 19:58:06 GMT
Sounds like a charming movie, Dog--albeit unbelievable IRL. BTW, I always preferred THE ADDAMS FAMILY to THE MUNSTERS, . Matt, have you noticed that the bratty young Cohan could dish it out but he couldn't take it? In both the scene where he's beaten up by the street kids and where he's spanked, he howls pathetically.
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Post by Doghouse6 on May 24, 2019 20:20:40 GMT
Sounds like a charming movie, Dog--albeit unbelievable IRL. BTW, I always preferred THE ADDAMS FAMILY to THE MUNSTERS, LOL. For the record, so did I. While The Munsters was mostly standard, low-class "dumb dad" sitcom, The Addams Family derived truly off-kilter humor from the morbid and disarming eccentricities of the characters. Both ran out of steam and quickly became repetitive, however, and neither lasted beyond two seasons. Still, they left lasting cultural impressions for such short-lived shows.
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Post by snsurone on May 28, 2019 17:47:15 GMT
Y'know, what really burns me is that damned Commandment: "Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother". Didn't the author of The Ten Commandments (even if it was God) realize that some parents do not deserve to be honored?
Yeah, there's the argument that they gave life to their abused child. To which I say, "BULL!"
I read advice columns on line, and there are numerous LW's who have cut off all contact with their horrid parents. Good for them!
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Post by london777 on Jun 2, 2019 2:35:58 GMT
I shall not intrude into your bizarre American theories of child-raising, except to say that "the woodshed" has altogether different connotations in the UK, where few dwellings have one. The phrase "something nasty in the woodshed" refers to some unspecified but shameful and shocking experience (probably, though not necessarily, sexual in nature) that someone is exposed to in isolation, and which leaves a psychological scar. It originates in Stella Gibbons' hilarious novel Cold Comfort Farm (1932) about an eccentric farming family, and is referred to several times as the cause of Aunt Ada Doom's insanity. Is this usage known in the USA? John Schlesinger directed an honorable attempt at filming the unfilmable: Cold Comfort Farm (1995) starring Kate Beckinsale as the naive distant relative who becomes embroiled in the crazy family.
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