My best days were so last century or at least that’s what popped into my head this morning before I got up. Now I’ll be the first to admit my youth was wasted (in more ways than one) in the ‘80’ and going into the ‘90’s; because by the ‘00’s rolled around I was already near my 40’s. But that expanse of time passed so quickly with me raising a family and trying to get ahead. But as the double ‘00’s rolled around our youngest was ten with the other three heading to middle and high school.
The thought of time amazes me, the references that pop into my head are often hard for my kids to fathom. Growing up in the sixties and the seventies give me an interesting perspective of the world and our culture. I’m just a hair older than the “Latch Key Kids” now known as Gen Xer’s. Oddly enough my mom and I are part of the same generation “Baby Boomers”. With my mother born at the end of World War Two and I arrived in the early Sixties. Social media is filled with the angst of the Gen Xer’s raging cynically about the winey little millennials and Gen Z’s. Honestly there’s not much I can say, for I’m not immune to the rage of the X’s, Millennial’s, or Z’s. But at least I’m gold with the Alpha’s because I’m papa.
So with a touch of nostalgia I dance around this Ash Wednesday with my suspenders and my pull-on slippers now. Not so much dreaming of the past and what I could have done better. Instead I do my best to keep my mind active by practicing my craft every day, and ignoring the suggestions my AI overload gives me to improve my writing. Today as our special needs son loudly plays intros to newscasts over his computer speakers (his new obsession). I’m doing the best I can to just better myself, despite myself, or my laissez-faire upbringing in a world now so polarized by the id.
The thought of time amazes me, the references that pop into my head are often hard for my kids to fathom. Growing up in the sixties and the seventies give me an interesting perspective of the world and our culture. I’m just a hair older than the “Latch Key Kids” now known as Gen Xer’s. Oddly enough my mom and I are part of the same generation “Baby Boomers”. With my mother born at the end of World War Two and I arrived in the early Sixties. Social media is filled with the angst of the Gen Xer’s raging cynically about the winey little millennials and Gen Z’s. Honestly there’s not much I can say, for I’m not immune to the rage of the X’s, Millennial’s, or Z’s. But at least I’m gold with the Alpha’s because I’m papa.
So with a touch of nostalgia I dance around this Ash Wednesday with my suspenders and my pull-on slippers now. Not so much dreaming of the past and what I could have done better. Instead I do my best to keep my mind active by practicing my craft every day, and ignoring the suggestions my AI overload gives me to improve my writing. Today as our special needs son loudly plays intros to newscasts over his computer speakers (his new obsession). I’m doing the best I can to just better myself, despite myself, or my laissez-faire upbringing in a world now so polarized by the id.
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