Bena Mae’s Kitchen: Times Have Changed

Conditions now are very different from those of the past. Years ago, nobody in my neighborhood locked their doors. But times have changed and now everyone has a burglar alarm. A latch on a screen door was considered adequate to keep burglars out in those days. But burglars were a nonentity in my neighborhood. I don’t recall a single burglary.
I live in what is considered a safe neighborhood. Still, I have a burglar alarm, life alert, cell phone, dead bolt locks on my doors and all the accouterments that hopefully will protect my life. I also have watchful neighbors who are alerted to anything that seems out of the ordinary.
But can they protect me when I leave my comfort zone? When the simple task of getting into my car and going to the grocery store may result in my being mugged or carjacked. These thoughts used to never enter our minds. It used to be, let’s see, I have to pick up some milk, something for supper, toilet tissue and get in the car and go. But that’s no longer the case. We have to make sure the car is locked and parked in a safe place and there is no suspicious activity nearby. Our eyes are constantly on the lookout.
But now, in a society where these things are prevalent and a part of our daily fears, we look upon them as necessary precaution. When my grandson attends a blockbuster movie at a large theater, I worry. When my daughter-in-law shops at a large super market, I worry about her unloading her groceries in a crowded parking lot. This is not normal, but it’s where we are today.
I think about when I was a teenager and walking home alone when the dime store closed at 9 p.m. I hadn’t a single thought of being attacked by anyone as I walked the several dark blocks to my home, crossing culverts and passing large bushes from which a predator could be hiding. It just didn’t happen. I may have quickened my steps when I heard a strange noise, but my fears were more from the unworldly ghost stories I had read than a real-life person.
I always got home safe and my parents didn’t worry about me. It was such a different world back then. I can’t remember a single case of someone’s lying in wait to kidnap, kill, or harm a person. It may have happened in the larger cities, but it was unheard in my town.
 I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired of the unknown dangers of “what’s out there.” I want to work in my yard without locking all my doors against a sicko who might slip inside and wait for me while I’m preoccupied with a simple outdoor task. This pervasive feeling of always being on guard has filled the whole nation with paranoia. My next door neighbor will not leave her house without telling me to watch out for her teenage daughter while she runs to the store.
God in Heaven, my mother never had a fear of leaving her passel of kids alone for an hour or two. The worst that could have happened to the intruder was that he would have been pummeled by a herd of savage kids that made him cry out to Jesus. 
They say this is the new norm. But I’ll never get used to it. For once I’d like to answer a knock on the door without the fear of looking into the face of the Boston Strangler.

Toasted Smore’s Cookie Bars

1 pouch (1 lb 1.5 oz) Betty Crocker® sugar cookie mix
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
1 cup butter or margarine, melted
3 cups milk chocolate chips (18 oz)
4 1/2 cups miniature marshmallows

Heat oven to 375°F. In large bowl, stir together cookie mix and crumbs. Stir in melted butter until soft dough forms. Press into ungreased 13×9-inch pan.
Bake 18 to 20 minutes or until set. Immediately sprinkle chocolate chips over crust. Let stand 3 to 5 minutes or until chocolate begins to melt. Spread chocolate evenly over crust.
Set oven control to broil. Sprinkle marshmallows over melted chocolate. Broil with top 5 to 6 inches from heat 20 to 30 seconds or until marshmallows are toasted. (Watch closely; marshmallows will brown quickly.) Cool 10 minutes. For bars, cut into 6 rows by 4 rows. Serve warm. Store any remaining bars tightly covered.