Mom

http://obits.theadvocate.com/obituaries/theadvocate/obituary.aspx?n=maxie-dawson&pid=175274686

One hundred years ago today, January 29th 1918, my mother was born in Polkville, Mississippi. That's 36,525 days. She lived 35,591 days (or 97 years, 5 months & 11 days.) That's a long time. I'm not getting into hours, minutes or seconds, since I'm not sure what time of day she was born. (But she lived ABOUT 3,075,062,400 seconds. I couldn't resist, it was right there.) Over three billion seconds. (I'm comin' up on two billion.)

Here is a picture of her from the late 1950s (best I can figure) along with my Dad and their pet monkey.

And here is a link to her obituary:

http://obits.theadvocate.com/obituaries/theadvocate/obituary.aspx?n=maxie-dawson&pid=175274686

Dad

I said I wasn't blogging this year, unless I had something to say. But my father would have been 93 years old today, so I just want to say "Happy Birthday, Dad."

After all, it's really your lawn.

My Last Blog Post

Here.

For a while.

I posted my first blog entry 1826 days ago. (That's 2,629,440 minutes for those of you scoring at home.) Five years for normal people.

I would say that I've run out of things to say, but that implies that I had anything to say in the first place. Having "studied" blogs a little bit in the last few months (though you couldn't tell it from this one) I have learned that they are considered by some a powerful tool. I have been told that their power lies in the ability to interact with the reader. That's where it all falls apart for me.

When I started reading blogs I found that the comment section at the bottom was generally populated by morons. I had no desire to interact with anyone, especially if they have nothing better to do than comment on something I've written.

But now, having actually found at least one successful blog that I enjoy, I see that my cynical view may have missed something. It is apparently possible for someone to be a professional smartass and still like their readers. Not me, of course, but someone.

I guess I'm doing a little house cleaning before taking a hiatus. In November I predicted a return of civility to political discourse. I'm still waiting. In the meantime I want to share with you three truths which I believe to be indisputible. I am however aware of the human ability to dispute anything (I have been accused of this myself) so I will list them in what I think is order of increasing disputability, and since I threatened in my last post to talk politics in this one, here you go:
 

1.     Donald Trump is NOT the Messiah.
2.     Donald Trump is NOT the Anti-Christ.
3.     Donald Trump IS the President of the United States.

(I'm a little stunned myself.)

Anyway, this happens to be the 31st Anniversary of my 29th Birthday. As I do every April 27th, I will set this post to publish at 6:38 PM. Then I'm taking a break. If I post anything here in the next 31,536,000 seconds it will be because I think I have something to say.

So until then, GET OFF MY LAWN!!!!!!

Happy New Year

Okay, I know it's 20 days old, but this is my first post of 2017, and that only makes my point: There is no such thing as a "new" year. I call it "The Birthday Myth."

DOES ANY OF THIS SOUND FAMILIAR?

"Do you feel older?" (Every stinkin' minute, but that's beside the point.)

"You're a year older than you were yesterday." (No, I'm not. I'm a day older than I was yesterday. I'm a year older than I was this time last year.)

(Or my favorite, from my mother, about two minutes after I turned 40: "Well, you're pushin' 50." But maybe I should let that go. After all, she did me a big favor on 27 April 1987 by having major surgery, so I never actually turned 30. TWENTY NINE FOREVER!!!)

But my point, in the unlikely event that my subtle sarcasm has obscured it, is that January 1st is only one day after December 31st. SURPRISE!

IT GETS WORSE...

The thought process doesn't end with the annual celebration of our birth,  or the passing of the winter solstice. We extend it to decades. "The Seventies: tie dye and bell bottoms." (That always says 60s to me.) "The Sixties: flower power and free love." (Well..., yeah... but what about acid and the Manson family?) "The Fifties: 'Sunday, Monday, Happy Days...'" (I bet that's stuck in your head all weekend.)

Maybe it's just me, but I find it symbolic of the whole problem* that we conceptualize a "decade of the sixties" (for example) that ran from 1960 to 1969, when, in fact, the seventh decade of the twentieth century actually ran from 1961 to 1970. The turn of the twentyfirst century happened 1/1/2001, and even though everyone appeared to actually be aware of the fact, it was just another New Years, even though the big celebration the year before had been dampened by a bogus computer panic.

But worse than that, the worst thing of all (... that I can think of ... at the moment ....) is the concept of a "generation."

THE PROBLEM WITH MILLENNIALS

As I recall** I first heard the term "millennial" around 1995. "The generation being born now won't even remember the twentieth century." Since I have fairly clear memories of my second birthday, I figured around '98 would be more accurate, but I'll give 'em five years.

I feel compelled to rant on the most useless generation in history after listening to a friend of mine rant on "Boomers." Granted, we had gotten a little alcohol into him at the time, but that is the elixir of truth. He opined that we were "the most horrid generation." Such blatant slander was obviously unsupported by facts, yet it still surprised me, coming as it did from what I had taken to be one of the least unproductive members of a generation that has yet to accomplish anything significant.

But after reflecting on the conversation, for quite some time, it hit me. This guy calls himself a "millennial." He's 28 years old. He was born in the '80s. He was 13 freakin' years old at the turn of the century. HE. IS. NOT. A. MILLENNIAL.

Then I looked it up, and realized they're GENERATION Y. Not only are they useless, they've stolen the name of the generation that follows them. Generation X was bad enough. Boomers were at least TRYING to find themselves. Generation X NEVER found themselves, and Y was "just the generation after X." I don't blame them for wanting a different name, but they didn't have to steal it from their kids!

BACK TO MY POINT

But I digress ..., and now that I have hurt a sufficient number of feelings I will point out to the delicate snowflakes that it doesn't matter whether they're called Generation Y, or they call themselves millennial, or anything else for that matter. They don't exist.

As a "generation."

Boomer, X, Y, millennial, it's an artificial construct. First of all the boundaries are vague at best. Well, the start of the baby boom is pretty clear, but after that is a blur. When I first heard of the baby boom it had ended around '55; but, well..., maybe in '57 I was right at the end of it. My latest reading has it ending somewhere around '63 to '65. For the sake of demonstrating that it doesn't matter anyway, let's call it '65.

The "Baby Boom" ran from 1946 to 1965, twenty years, a generation.

So that means, obviously, that a person born in 1965 has more in common with someone born in 1946 than he does with someone born in 1966. More in common with someone born a thousand miles away and twenty years earlier than with someone a year younger next door. Makes perfect sense.

There are far better ways to assign periods of time. I have long argued that what I call "The Sixties" starts with the Kennedy assassination and ends with the Nixon Resignation. Now that's a period in history.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Actually, today does mark the beginning of a new ... something. Let history tell us what. It's just a happy coincidence that I will set this to post on inauguration day, but I'll take it. Today will have more impact on more lives that January 1st, or the Winter Solstice, or any other annual commemoration.

Next week I may talk politics. Until then, you millennials get off my lawn.

 

*"The whole problem?" Two minutes ago you didn't even know it was a problem.
** I ain't about to look it up.

Farewell 2016

We live in interesting times. (That's a curse, btw.)

In my last blog (Thanksgiving Day) I thanked God, in advance, for the return of civil discourse to American Politics. Of course a "return" implies that it was ever there in the first place. Let us not forget that only 212 years ago our third Vice President shot and killed our first Secretary of the Treasury in a duel.

In spite of that our political system has survived these two centuries plus. I look forward to being able to discuss politics with those with whom I disagree, particularly those smarter than I am. They should NOT be hard to find.

This is only my third post this year. So much for "back in the swing." I started writing the above intending to post it on December 2nd. I was going somewhere with that, but I guess I ain't gettin' there. I think it was to say that I may be posting more political stuff in the coming year. We'll see. I just hope to continue blogging. I've given up on writing anything worth reading. Even the self-deprecating "humor" is getting old.

Anyway, if I get this thing posted** it will be the Sixth Day of Christmas and the penultimate* day of the year. So 2016: GET OFF MY LAWN!

*Not to be obstreperous, but https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/penultimate.

**Okay, I didn't post it on time, but at least it's still Friday.

Happy Thanksgiving

I don't talk about it much, but I believe in God. I don't try to persuade anyone else because I think God can handle that without me. If He chooses to use me for that purpose I believe I will have as much choice in the matter as Jonah did. I also believe that Faith is one of the greatest of the many gifts that God has given to Man. One aspect of Faith is gratitude for prayers not yet answered.

This year I give thanks for a Nation still united following our election, the orderly transition of power, and the return of civil discourse in American Politics.

I have come to understand that most of the people who disagree with me politically are not evil, neither are they stupid. They may be wrong but on rare occasions I have been too. In the words of Nobel Laureate Bob Dylan: "We always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view"

So eat some turkey, watch some football, and send the kids out on the lawn.

 2012

Volume 5

I posted my first blog entry 4 years ago today. You'd think I would have learned something  by now. Not so much, I guess. Last year I posted my 100th entry, announcing that would be it until after the election, then I thought of something that amused me so I squeezed one more in. I haven't blogged since. I missed Christmas, New Years, Mardi Gras and Easter. Oh well, you can't go back.  

I had an excuse (not a good one, but "HEY.") Then over the last few weeks I thought of several good topics, and promptly forgot them all. I can't even remember what I was going to write when I started this. Gettin' old sucks. (But I've always heard that it beats the alternative.)

So, as I pointed out, this is my 102nd blog post.  When I started working on it at 1:19 AM on 3/20/2016 I read back to the start of my retirement countdown and realized that I had been retired for 399 days 21 minutes and 12 seconds. I decided then that I should post on the 400th day. Then I forgot about it until 11:56 AM 4/21/2016. So much for that.  

I have been retired for 437 days 15 hours 47 minutes and 02 seconds. More than that now. I guess it will just keep getting bigger. And when this posts, at 6:38 PM, I will be starting my 7th decade on the planet. But using the "50 is the new 30" logic from my first blog I'm only 35.4.

I got nothin' else, at least nothin' I can get posted before 6:38. Maybe I can get back in the swing. Oh, well, until then get off my lawn.