This is a weekly column consisting of letters to my perspicacious progeny. I write letters to my grandkids and my great-grandkids — the Stickies — to advise them and haunt them after they become grups or I'm deleted.
Warning: This column is rated SSC — Sexy Seasoned Citizens — A Perusal by kids, callowyutes, or grups may result in a debilitating intersectional triggering. Viewing on a decently sized computer monitor recommended for maximum enjoyment.
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"My father would take me to the playground, and put me on mood swings" -Jay London
Dear (eventual) Grandstickies and Great-Grandstickies (and Gentlereaders),
The four stages of life are kid, callowyute, grup, and sexy senior citizen. If you're interested, I define all four categories in my glossary. This week's column is about grups, more commonly called grownups.
In my glossary, I only explore the etymology of the word grups. I don't say much about what choosing to be a grownup means. Paradoxically, being a world-class grownup includes knowing when to allow one's inner kid, even inner callowyute, to come out and play.
This is important, but having brownies for breakfast, like much sinning, is no longer sinful, or even much fun, once it becomes normal. A grup knows that. Excessive sinning is as boring, and as potentially self-destructive, as excessive piety.
During the course of my kid and (very early) callowyute stages, life was less complicated than nowadays. Rulebooks ruled.
By the time I hit peak callowyutishness the social fabric was fading and fraying faster than my favorite pair of bell-bottom jeans.
However, I had a firm foundation to stand on that was built when I was a kid. Also, the people who had built that foundation were not about to go down without a fight just because a significant cohort of Boomers made tossing the tot out with the Jacuzzi water their raison d'etre.
Push back from grups keeps the playground from demonstrating what would've happened if the flies of The Lord of the Flies not only hadn't been rescued but had been joined by a swarm of shipwrecked females.
Dumb luck, no risk of being drafted to fight in various, misguided "limited wars" since Vietnam, recreational pharmaceuticals, as well as unprecedented prosperity and technical advances enabled many Boomers to enjoy an extended adolescence (callowyutence) including me, your semi-humble correspondent.
Many of us grew up, eventually. But many of us are still at it to one degree or another. And many of us refuse to gracefully exit the stage and give the kids a chance — the Donald and Uncle Joe (78!) come immediately to mind — while we either spend their inheritance and/or continue to run up hooge bills they will eventually have to pay.
A quick bit of googlin' revealed that as of early 2019 The Fedrl Gummit's unfunded liabilities totaled roughly $122,000,000,000,000. State and local unfulfillable promises adds another $5,000,000,000,000.
Apropos of nothing much, I once knew a little girl named Trillion.
Previously, callowyutence normally ended relatively early for most due to the manifestation of random negative life events like recessions, depressions, and wars.
Also — as a result of thousands of years of trial and error — there were all sorts of H. sapiens that thought that getting a job and then getting married and then reproducing and then trying to stay married sounded like the way to go.
BIG BUT, In 1965 the callowyutes began pushing back against the grups and started cultivating callowyutence as a lifestyle choice.
We meant well, we really did.
In our defense, all sorts of things did need to change. Female H. sapiens needed to be liberated to choose what sort of grup they wish to be. Wife and mother, Supreme Court Justice, both, or something else.
Blacks were long overdue for the Civil Rights Act of '64 and the Voting Rights Act of '65... but that was primarily a pre-Boomer accomplishment. However, Boomers did do a lot of marching, protesting, and singing in support of various minority groups and causes.
When our gay friends started opening closet doors from the inside most of us didn't freak out. It's slowly dawning on society that it's likely that some people, including the Ls, the Bs, the Ts, and the plusses may just be born that way, not manufactured.
Now, given the limited impact of the Great Recession of 2008 on the Boomers, its outsized impact on the three succeeding generations, and the plague we're currently battling, one would hope common sense and compromise would make a comeback in the Republic.
However...
The alleged death of God, however conceived; the rise in popularity of us v. them identity politics; the seemingly indefatigable toxic Wokies; the notion that there's no such thing as truth or human nature, just convenient constructs built on the fly and mandated by the Pasty Patriarchs; the...
[Ahem.]
Thanks, Dana. Fellow grups and sexy senior citizens (you know who you are) please feel free to add to my list or make one of your own. The widely forecast blue wave didn't happen and it would appear that no one needs to fear being dragged in front of a Truth and Reconciliation Tribunal.
[What's that got to do with...]
Choosing to be the grup in the room? While I'm not advocating a return to 1950s America I am advocating a personal search for truth and reconciliation. The playground's no fun when it's run like the Island of Lost Boys.
[Another Island? A psychologist might say...]
All I'm saying is that a philosophy of life built around If It Feels Good Do It and May the Biggest Victim Win won't work/isn't working and ain't going to end well.
Any grownup knows that.
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