Today we looked at crazy Texas and their crazy new paddling law, which stirred up quite a conversation among you readers. One commenter shared his paddling story with us and it was... interesting.

From CJ4:

I grew up in Plano, TX (getcher heroin and suicide here, folks) in the 80s and we used to get paddled in middle school for various infractions. This was the heyday of no-pass, no-play so all football players had to get weekly reports from all teachers signifying that you were passing all your classes. If you had a D or lower or failed to get a signature, you got whacked. I was a straight-A student, but my orchestra (oh, the shame) teacher hated football and refused to sign the forms, dooming me to a weekly beating. Every week, the idiots and I would be marched up to the front of the locker room and told to turn around, put our hands against the wall, and wait for the whistle of the wood as it swept through the air. It was bad enough getting the weekly welt, but it was simply insult to injury to have the entire team reminded weekly that I played the cello.

Terrible. Just... terrible...