Slip me some honey, honey

A couple of you who pass this way may know that I belong to a few "expert" communities, where we blather on at each other in a rather amusing "bees exchanging honey" behavior that's harmless and useless...

In one of those hives, there's recently been a bit of dust-up about whether the forum should be "moderated" -- with posts reviewed and edited and maybe rejected by the moderator. As one might guess, I'm on the side of the "let it all hang out" faction, while some others prefer what they see as the more professional and orderly exchange that moderation ensures.

I made my point about this topic in the form of a mini Twilight Zone-style story... and since I'm lazy, and feel like posting something here, and I kind of liked it, I will let you all (ha!) enjoy it too:

***

Start with a typical scene -- black and white, of course -- with kids playing inside a big 50s-comfy suburban-neighborhood house, watched over by a matronly grandma -- looking suspiciously like our moderator. They'd be real kids, with that 50s kids look -- messy hair, freckled faces -- but unnaturally dressed in kid-sized adult work clothes. They'd be playing with their toys on the carpet of the big living room, rather lackadaisically and unenthusiastically...

One or two of them are arguing with grandma, repeating what is obviously a persistent refrain, an oft-repeated dialogue... "We really want to play outside, grandma. All the kids get to play outside... we'll be extra careful. We'll remember everything you told us... " We see her slowly relenting, slowly bowing to the pressure.

She smiles. "Alright kids, I'll let you try it just this once.. but remem... " But she's cut off in mid-sentence, as they all excitedly jump up, suddenly energized, shouting to each other, leaving all the old toys scattered, grabbing a couple of bats and gloves, balls, etc. and crowding through the door, screen slamming against the outer wall. She sighs, and gets a worried look, but then a wan smile... Maybe it's good for them, after all.

In the next scene (after the commercial, perhaps) we see old grandma, standing in the open doorway, a very worried look on her face, yelling out into the street: "I told you kids! Someone was bound to get hurt! The *outside* is full of dangers... Why did I ever let you all talk me into this at all! You come back inside right now, and I'll patch up your elbows and soothe your bruises, and we'll have some nice supervised play here safe indoors. All your toys are still here, kids! Come on back! Grandma will take care of you and make it all better"

The camera pans slowly around to face the street -- a quiet, wide street, with some oak trees and nicely trimmed lawns, and a couple of cars parked along the street -- where a bunch of grownups are lazily tossing a football, huddled in little groups here and there talking, maybe flipping a frisbee around, or playing with a dog. One of them is rubbing a scratch on his elbow. They all look around at each other, as if to say "what do we do now?" It's clear that the grandma still sees them as roughhousing little kids, while they have all grown up and become professionals with families of their own... but they haven't the heart to tell her. They slowly, dejectedly shuffle back toward the house...

Or do they?