As a child Chuck Soder consumed TV violence like thanksgiving leftovers. But, for some strange reason, that didn't lead him to a life of crime.
By Chuck Soder
210 west Writer [send email]
At age 14, I was probably the nicest boy any mother could ever want. But for a long, long time I couldn’t figure out why this childhood saint never became a bloodthirsty killer.
My sainthood came packaged in three parts:
1)I absolutely never cussed. Not even when my buddy Dan offered me $5 to use the Capital “F” in complete privacy.
2) I never talked dirty about girls. Not even to my friends, who were already quite verbose about our female classmates and their training bras.
3) I never once thought about hitting another human being. Well, except for my little sister – but even then, never in the face. Nor did I have a temper – I was a very nonviolent young man.
I can explain parts one and two: I was sheltered.
My family didn’t swear, so neither did I. Nor did I listen to music or watch anything but good ’ole pre-edited basic cable. As for sex, I didn’t watch MTV and mom censored me from everything else. She would ease up later in life, but when I was little, even a wedding kiss warranted a channel change.
But for years, the third part made zero sense.
I was a Quaker who loved – absolutely loved – blood, guts, gore, guns and anything that exploded or got blown to bits in an explosion. Tanks were cool, swords were cool and nunchucks were ultra-super cool. I watched the Sunday Afternoon Action Movie religiously, just hoping to see two kung fu guys kick each other in the face really, really hard. In my book, Steven Seagal’s “Hard to Kill” was a classic.
The first two pillars of my young sainthood eroded years ago. Just a few days on the streets (read: high school), and I was dropping F-bombs like it was World War Fuck. And I was talking about my buddy’s sister like, well, like no one should ever talk about anyone’s sister.
But a truckload of TV violence didn’t change me a bit.
This I couldn’t understand. For years, I had always liked some often-repeated celebrity quote that I once thought made sense: “I’d rather my child watch two people making love than two people killing each other.”
It sounds so good. Killing is worse than sex – and swearing, too – so killing is worse to watch, right?
My brain loved that quote. Perfect two-plus-two logic. My instincts, however, hated it but couldn’t figure out why.
That is, until last month, when I read a true literary classic – Jackie Chan: My Life in Action. Since age 7, the world’s greatest action hero spent every waking moment immersed in martial arts and fighting. Yet he’s never even been in a real fight.
He was only 7 – how did he come out so clean?
Because most kids that age know that violence is wrong. Not only have they heard it all their lives, but it’s also easy to see how hitting hurts others. It’s a black-and-white situation, even to a young mind. Not to mention that TV violence is usually used to beat a bad guy in grim circumstances.
And that is why violence is big on American TV. Most children can handle it.
Swearing, on the other hand, is rare on the tube. Know why? Because youngsters are obviously going to pick up the habit when a 22-year old like me can barely control it. College made me worse. Since then, I’ve spoken the world’s foulest four-letter word in front of grandma twice.
In one car ride.
Now that is disrespectful – or at least that’s what I’ve been taught. If my loins one day bear fruit, I don’t want them thinking it’s cool to act that way, at least not in many situations. Swearing isn’t murder, but it’s a hel…heck of a lot more habit forming.
While sex is becoming more prevalent on TV, you’ll still never see Basic Instinct on NBC without open-heart surgery in the editing room. And there’s good reason.
Parents constantly tell their kids not to hit or bite or kick. But they don’t talk about Dallas, or Debbie, or why those two shouldn’t “dance” at such a young age. They don’t tell their kids why that lady dresses in black, or why she always wants to “dish it out.” They also don’t tell youngsters why it’s not always best to listen to their hormones, which, like swearing, can lead to plenty of bad habits.
Even if parents tried to explain, kids would still be clueless. When it comes to sex, right and wrong is blurrier than HBO on any TV in my house. If understanding violence is simple addition, understanding sex is trigonometry. Even high school students don’t always get an “A” in the class.
But at least they’re old enough to pass.
Maybe I didn’t get a 4.0, but at least my teacher knew that I too young to grasp the material at age 8. Violence, well, I aced that course in elementary school. I haven’t even thought about hitting my sister – or anyone else – in more than a decade.
And that’s all despite the fact that the 10-year old in me still loves shoot-’em-ups and kung fu flicks. Especially this one movie where this one guy gets punched in the face so hard that his brain flies right out of his head. Sweet!