How to Prevent Angry Adults

Even pitchforks can kill!

It's not the guns. Of course, guns are what shoot, so if there weren't any there would be no shooting. But that doesn't mean there wouldn't be deaths, since someone bent on destruction can always resort to cars, planes, poisoning, bombs, knives, bows and arrows, pitchforks, and good, old-fashioned fisticuffs.

The issue is not the weapon but the underlying anger and seething hatred for all mankind that propels mass murder. Those emotions are instilled in children at a very young age by parents who are clueless, busy, distracted or full of rage and anger themselves.

There is much work to do to change humans from killing machines into lovable lambs. Following are some habits to develop that can aid in the transition.

1. Don't drive angry: No tailgating, flipping the bird at a passing driver, cutting someone off or insistent honking in traffic.
2. Never hit, scream at or frighten a child.
3. Never mock anyone, especially a child or someone with an obvious disability.
4. Admit when you don't know something and ask for help without shame.
5. Don't blame others for your own failings.
6. Don't judge people based on how they were raised.

I am most guilty of #6. For example, years ago I had a close friend who was raised by wolves. Just kidding; actually, wolves would have done a better job. Joanie grew up in Baltimore, in a poor neighborhood. Her father was a milkman and her mother was the witch in "Hansel and Gretel." (Not really, but she looked the part.) The one and only time I accompanied Joanie on a visit home, I regretted it. Simply put, I saw too much. (This may be when I burned my retinas.)

In her parents' world, beach towels doubled as curtains and mayonnaise was considered a vegetable. Consumed at every meal, a jumbo-sized jar of Hellmann's sat out on the kitchen table along with the salt, pepper and ketchup, 24/7. Her teenage brother had not spoken to anyone in the family for seven years, even though he lived at home. Kurt was perpetually angry and hated everyone, yet no steps were taken to understand why this was so or to remedy the situation.

Although Joanie thought nothing of spending $200 for a pair of shoes, in the interest of frugality she  used the same length of dental floss for four or five days, looping it over the bathroom sink faucet. An open bottle of red wine remained in the fridge for up to six months, and was served to guests. All of these habits disturbed me, especially the mayonnaise being left out, even in summer, since I had been taught that if it was not refrigerated within ten minutes it became toxic and you could die. (I no longer believe this, sort of.)

Still, Joanie and I had a grand time together and were best friends for more than fifteen years. We laughed constantly, enjoyed antiquing and shopping for cool clothes, appreciated the same movies, loved experimenting at ethnic restaurants, took long country drives on the weekend and compared notes on the men we were dating. Yet despite all we shared, deep down I considered her inferior  because of those bad habits she learned while growing up. Secretly, I judged her.

I don't do that anymore. If I met Joanie today I wouldn't judge her, I just wouldn't have anything to do with her. After all, if you can't fully embrace your friends with all their quirks, you're not a friend. Ditch 'em. But do it nicely.