MISSOURI WATCH: THOW OUT SANDBOX CANDIDATES; KEEP THOSE WITH ADULT THINKING

A long, long time ago, young boys in small rural towns all across Missouri were left to their devices to entertain themselves and, to the best of their ability, stay out of trouble. Life in Missouri's country towns over half a century ago was less complicated, less structured and less elaborate than it is for today's young children, age 5 to 12.

It was a good time to be growing up, even if there were some disadvantages inherent in small town living, although it is worth observing that since we hadn't experienced anything else, we didn't miss what we didn't have. We were left to create our own entertainment, from playing marbles on earthen school playgrounds to inventing our own games of competition.

One of the more popular games my friends and I invented was to see which among us could spit farther. I hasten to add this was not considered an acceptable form of competition in more polite society, but back in the 1930s, one made do with whatever was at one's disposal. I was reminded of this pre-sophisticated practice the other day when I received a letter from a boyhood pal, who had through some mental fluke suddenly recalled our contests and wanted to remind me of his prowess in our pre-teen competition. It should be noted that my friend, a West Point graduate who became a three-star general before his retirement, does not attribute his success in the world to his ability to spit farther than his friends.

But as I read his letter, my mind vividly recalled the antics of young boys barely out of kindergarten who devised their own social environment, as crude as it was. It occurred to me that many of our boyhood antics would have served us well had any of us chosen to enter politics. None of us did, so my theory will have to stand alone, without a shred of proof. It seems to me that the deplorable state of politics today is not unlike the social milieu of post-Depression rural Missouri.

The crudeness and lack of sophistication of the 1930s closely resemble the same qualities of politics in the 1990s. It's true that we don't decide elections in 1996 by holding expectorate tournaments, but in a very real sense, candidates in 1996 figuratively spit at each other, much like small children who, lacking weapons more lethal, use whatever means is at hand to overcome an adversary. I was reminded of this allegory as I watched two candidates for the Missouri General Assembly engage in a verbally spirited debate, although there was little to recommend it from an intellectual standpoint. I believe if the candidates had not been before an audience of voters they would have physically attacked each other in an encounter that was originally intended to inform the audience, not make it party to a barrage of insults and cheap shots.

Again the similarity was apparent, for when young boys in pre-sophisticated eras experienced frustrating opposition, they invariably let swing with a right hook or a quick left jab to the adversary's jaw. I have been there and done that, and so have some male contemporaries now reaching the golden years, despite their denials of such uncouth behavior.

Although not a particularly favorite author of mine, Robert Fulghum wrote a book a few years ago entitled "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." Even if you don't buy into all of Fulghum's theories about rules for living after the sandbox years, you'll have to admit there are certain rules we learned at an early age that would serve us very well at an advanced age. Respecting the rights of others, learning to play without throwing sand in your neighbor's face and keeping the area you're in neat and orderly can serve one well in adulthood. I believe Fulghum intellectually overreached, however, when he argued these were the only rules needed to make it through life. Well, I've needed a few more than Bob offers, and in my opinion, so do today's political candidates.

I would like to watch a political debate in which the participants recognized at least a modicum amount of ability, integrity and intellect in his or her opponent. I am tired of hearing persons tell me they sincerely want to be of public benefit and then listen to them engage in arguments about the moral and intellectual bankruptcy of someone who filed for the same public office.

I want candidates to stop giving me information that I know is incorrect. I am tired of listening to how immoral the opposing political party has become, simply because I know this isn't true. You know, even back in rural Missouri more than 50 years ago, I never really knew whether any of my friends was a Democrat or a Republican, and even if a preference had been expressed, it wouldn't have made the slightest difference; he was still my friend. Like most unsophisticated young boys, I used an entirely different set of criteria to choose my friends: were they honest, were they of average intelligence, did they refrain from throwing sand in my eyes, did they like to play marbles, go fishing and hang out at the drug store? If they met those standards, I liked them, trusted them, valued their friendship. Sixty years later, they remain my friends.

Why must we now put up with the spitting contests candidates have devised to score points against their opponents? Why must the public endure the mindless slander that today passes for political dialogue? As I Corinthians notes, "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things." That's marvelous counsel, you know.

Let's start looking for our political candidates among those who no longer speak as children nor understand as children nor think as children.

Let's find candidates who long ago put away childish things and became reasonable, intelligent and fair-minded adults. I know there are some around. I first met some of them in kindergarten.

~Jack Stapleton of Kennett is the editor of the Missouri News and Editorial Service.