Deprived of Depravity

Or: ” Improving Your Immorals. ” How to slide into sin despite the best efforts of your loving parents.

I have a confession to make: I have never been immoral. This, of course, is a lie, but only a small one. My heinous crimes, gone undetected, so far do not amount to a hill of beans. I’m so ashamed…

I am old enough to have forgotten the follies of childhood and even those of youth are getting pretty hazy in the memory. I’m sure I was naughty, because I remember being whacked for it – in the days when whacking was approved. The treatment worked, as I never repeated the specific misdemeanours that attracted the reproof. I do remember being picked up by the RCMP for riding an unlicensed mini-bike on the public highway in 1961 but after that episode most of that dreadful behaviour ceased. Until 1968.

I do not appear to have murdered anyone, nor raped, nor committed arson. Drug use was limited to buying a six-pack of Coors beer in 1966 while under 21, but no-one was injured. I did commit a federal counterfeiting felony at the time to get the beer, but that is neither here nor there. I have since ceased to be under the aegis of the Selective Service System or the Utah Liquor Control Board and can skulk through the streets of Perth with little fear.

I have arrived at a time of life when any sin, depravity, or crime I could achieve would be looked upon with fondness and sympathy. I suspect I could down an RFDS aircraft with a Bofors or snipe at cars on the freeway with a 17 pounder with impunity.

I am currently saving part of my pension for AP shells.

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