Back in my day …

I was innocently watching television when I happened upon a channel highlighting the 10 most violent video games. One of the games was based on a comic book character called "The Punisher."

Now, back in my day –

See? I’m doing it again! "Back in my day …" is the official catchphrase of the curmudgeon.

Be that as it may, that’s exactly the phrase that came to mind that fateful Nov. 13. Because, well, back in my day – back in those great days before I knew or cared about income tax; when "balancing a check-book" was something I’d do far into the future when people had flying cars and lived on the moon — I enjoyed playing games like, "LIFE."

With LIFE, you got married, had kids, and if you weren’t lucky, inherited "your uncle’s skunk farm."

"The Punisher?" Today that same 12-year-old can, with graphics just a few years away from Lucasfilm-like realism, not only watch a character press someone’s head into a meat grinder, but can actually control him as he does it. The game includes an impressive array of methods to dispatch your enemy in the cruelest and grossest ways imaginable. The game designers have been thoughtful enough to include screams of pain and flying body parts.

By the way, this wasn’t a news channel highlighting violence in video games, or even EWTN on its virtual soapbox. It was a video technology channel highlighting a top-10 list for those with a yen for video carnage.

I say (in my most curmudgeonly tone), forget the oil execs – haul in the greed-driven designers of these games, games that suck in far more dollars than the oil industry, and continue to take in return.

My curmudgeonhood doesn’t end in the video game section. In fact, the television program kicked off a ranting that would make your great grandpappy say, "C’mon! It can’t be all that bad!"

Back in my day, back when I could walk the half-mile to my grade school without fear; back when the only weapon a school bully carried was his fist and a slew of four letter words, I had to be in bed every night by 8 p.m. When the time came that I could stay up until 8:30, boy, that was great, because then I could watch half of "Bonanza." Sure, sometimes Dad had to pry me away. Dad would drag me to bed and I’d be shouting, "But Dad! What’s going to happen to Little Joe? BE STRONG, LITTLE JOE! BE STRONG!"

Today? The last 14-year-old I knew had carte blanche to stay up at night, and usually did so watching his Marylin Manson videos. If you don’t know Marylin Manson … count yourself lucky.

Speaking of bullies, I was always a bully magnet. When the bully saw me walking down the hall, his autonomic nervous system would kick into gear, and his mouth – almost without conscious thought – would automatically utter a listing of curse words biologically designed to get the most intimidation out of a foe.

Now, I was always taught to stand up for myself. I was taught to be strong, to never back down to a bully. Did that help? Naaa. But I could run like the wind. That helped a lot.

Today? It’s not just flying fists you have to worry about. Back then, if a student was caught with a gun, you could be sure you’d hear Walter Cronkite talking about it on the evening news. Now, unless someone’s hurt or killed, it’s not even news.

This is a "Get Rich or Die Tryin’" world; violent crime isn’t bad, we hear, not if it results in power.

No curmudgeon would be worth his or her salt without talking about the values and morals of sexuality, or the lack thereof. On second thought, let me just make a fervent request that we bring back 1955. Every decade we retreat – as long as we don’t go too far into our history — we bring back a fallen measure of innocence. Bring back the poodle skirts and scrap the mini skirts; take away the 76 channels; bring back the front porch communities; bring back the youth and the respect most once paid to elders. Bring back the time when filth was avoided.

See? I told you I’ve become a curmudgeon.

Having said this, I have to admit that I have slain many a video alien in my day — from those evil aliens in "Space Invaders," to the dastardly doers from "Defender." But the day when rape, prostitution, and murder become fodder for games; when we stand by and watch as the nation’s youth are corrupted by corporate greed; when we mindlessly allow promiscuity and violence to be celebrated – both in the media and the real world; when we do nothing about any of this, we become willing observers to the nation’s decline.