So the other day I was having lunch at Five Guys with my Uncle Chip, a bold Reagan conservative. He had much to say about politics and the state of our world that I found to be interesting. In order to share his views with the community, I am letting Chip have my column space today. Below is the piece he sent me for publication.
“Blame the Liberals for the Decline of Our Sons”
By Chip Whitley, The Principled Conservative
So the scientists tell us that millennials have the lowest testosterone count of any generation on record, and the kids coming up are doing even worse.
Fellow Santa Claritans, the only people we have to blame for this development are the Democrats. They are the ones who put soy in the lunches, who consider John Wayne an example of “toxic masculinity,” and tell young boys they deserve a participation award for just putting pants on.
I see the effects of this tragedy in the daily behavior of the fella who occupies the corner bedroom upstairs: my son John.
It all started when he went off to UCLA, and I called him during finals week to see how he was doing, thinking he’d be busy studying in the library or taking out some cute young petunia for a ribeye.
But he wasn’t doing any of those things. Instead, he was trying to destress with a therapy puppy. Our conversation on the phone went like this:
“Therapy puppy, John?”
“Yes Dad, the campus provides it for us. Finals are just really tough. It helps the students cope.”
“I never should have married your mother.”
Then John hung up, and all I could think was what kids really need nowadays is a therapy hit upside the head with a shovel. Going to colleges like these, they’re all going to end up Uber drivers.
It all got worse when John came home during the summer break. One morning, he stumbled downstairs in his boxers, and I’ll be damned, didn’t have a strand of hair on his legs. I almost threw the remote at Lucky, our cocker spaniel.
I said, “John, what the hell did you do to your legs? I’m about to hurl.”
He told me he was decolonizing his body and rebelling against the “hetero-patriarchal” beauty standards of American society, that said women had to be hairless and men had to be hairy.
My first instinct when I heard this was to take him to an exorcist.
Then I said, “John, you’re going to grow your hair back, or you can get out of my house.”
It was harsh, but tough love is the only thing that works. My daddy used to beat me with his belt whenever I interrupted his dinner, talked back to him, or missed a question on “Jeopardy.” Today they call that child abuse. Back then it was called discipline!
Trust me, I’ve tried getting the boy to change his views, but nothing works. The leftist professors have got him good. We once had a debate on gender. I believe in two genders, he believes in 72. As a compromise and for the sake of moderation, John says, “Why don’t we meet in the middle and say there’s 36?”
I said, “That’s your idea of a compromise? How about I compromise and brand only one of your buttcheeks, instead of both like you deserve?”
I could tell you more, but the tears are falling down just thinking about everything that’s happened. It’s making my meatloaf soggy. The point of this column is simple: The liberals have destroyed our sons. Once upon a time, young American men fought Hitler, raised families, did big things. Now they have lower testosterone than their grandmothers.
But despite this tragedy, however, there are three words why I still have hope: President Donald Trump. He is the last chance we have to restore sanity and get this country on the right track. If he doesn’t succeed in overturning the election results and getting a second term, the America we know and love will be gone forever.
And if that day comes, I’m gonna need a therapy puppy.
Joshua Heath is a Santa Clarita resident. His uncle “Chip” is a satirical character meant to entertain and inform.