"The other day, someone at a store in town read that a methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in an adjoining county and he asked the rhetorical question, 'Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?'
I replied, 'I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and community socials. I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of a teacher or preacher, or if I did not put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me. I was drug to the homes of family, friends and neighbors to help out by mowing the lawn, repair a faucet or chop wood. Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack or heroin: and if today's children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place. God bless the parents who drugged us.'"