Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Daily, I note the famous-people
obituaries in the New York Times—
checking ages of the departed,
passed on, bought the farm,
crossed over, dead and buried…
to see where I stand. Today’s issue:
dead are all younger then me.
Notorious, sure, but not here any
longer, and I am.
I’m old but immature. Might be
obvious. Tattoos seem like the
indulgence of sailors and motorcyclers
but I know better and get a kick out
of girls in dresses & cowboy boots;
had to get married to get laid in the
50’s and that culture’s pretty much
been re-calibrated as far as I can tell,
and I’ve accepted I’m not going to
know squat about media tech though
I’m addicted to e-mail and facebook
and don’t mind admitting it.
“Age is no better, hardly so well,
qualified for an instructor as youth,
for it has not profited so much as it
has lost.” says Thoreau (dead mid-
40’s) and it’s true description and no
lamentation. Youngsters in my classes
are way smarter (and older) than
me. Used to be “C” was a decent grade.
Any more or less: you weren’t using
your time well.
Environmentalism. Can’t teach
compassion and care but developing
cultural empathy? —it’s got to be seen
as cool as clove cigarettes, cocaine,
cowboy boots with dresses & such as
along those lines where anyone
will want to conform to be cool—be
cool to conform. Not out of it. An
environmental issue. Racism too:
if seen as immature and unmanly or
unfeministic— well, who wants to be
seen that way? Or else try scolding then,
ridicule, chide, mock, disparage--pass
laws so we have to care or else: ostracize.
Alienate. See how that works. It’s an