He’s not holding back here; he is telling these people, now that he’s poked their fear of booze, elites, outsiders, slippery slopes, and those who would interfere with authentic and worthy pursuits they perhaps love like harness racing, that the difference between pool and billards, those six pockets, mark a person as decent or not.
And now: the children.
All week long, your River City youth will be fritterin’ away, I say your young men’ll be fritterin’! Fritterin’ away their noontime, suppertime, chore time too.
So far, he’s only claiming that smartphones — sorry, sorry, I meant pool tables — will distract your children from all the things they’re supposed to be doing to help around the house. They won’t help with dinner. They won’t fetch water. And, as he says, “that’s trouble.”
Now, I know all you folks are the right kind of parents.
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