Okay, so it’s Wednesday (or Thursday, depending on when this blog is scheduled to post) which, coincidentally, is also my day off. Most people hate working the weekend but having one day off to accomplish adult things—pay bills, run errands, extend student loan deferments/forbearances—without the hassle of bumper to bumper Christmas shopping traffic isn’t bad. It’s not like I have friends to hang out with/a girlfriend to ignore anyway…
Harry Potter Update: Last night was quite the tilt. I finished the fourth installment, The Goblet of Fire, and even managed to grind through half of the fifth installment, The Order of the Phoenix. The fifth one has absolutely sucked so far but Goblet was dope. One trend I’ve noticed throughout these films is that Hogwarts is reckless as fuck. That school’s more dangerous than a community college in South Side, Chicago. I mean, the sheer number of NCAA violations in that place would make the Penn State scandal look like a loitering charge.
Anyway, as I type this, my television’s been glued to the State Funeral of George H.W. Bush. Now, I’m not one to narcissistically spew my sociopolitical agenda on social media; however, regardless of where you stand on the political spectrum, you’d have to a significantly sharp railroad spike up your ass to ignore what this guy managed to accomplish in the span of a lifetime.
The man affectionally referred to as “41” served as one of the youngest aviators in the US Navy. If that wasn’t impressive enough, he went on serve as a US Representative, Director of Central Intelligence, and ambassador before becoming Vice President in 1981 and President in 1989. By comparison, I burnt a Celeste pizza last night…
And that’s the thing: the precedent our fore fathers set is pretty fucking high. I’ll never forget one Christmas when I was sitting in the family living room as my grandfather was engaged in a heated discussion with his brother regarding who could generate more shave uses out of a single, disposable razor. It was incredible, and the first time I heard a full-grown adult call another full-grown adult a pussy… over disposable razor use.
So yeah, I guess my point is that we harbor incredibly different perspectives than that of our elders. Everyone likes to roll their eyes at their grandparents’ “back in my day” stories but I’m not one of them for fear of a conversation like this…
Grandfather: “Back in my day, we would start coal mining at the age of 7 for a penny a day.”
Me: “Yeah, well back in my day, if you wanted to watch a new release, you had to drive ALL the way down to the store. And if it was a two-day rental, it could’ve been sold out, forcing you to settle on some early-90s slapstick comedy featuring David Spade.”
Grandfather: “When I was 14, I watched half my friends bleed to death during the war.”
Me: “Well, I mean, I just got locked out of my Instagram account…so”
Grandfather: “Everyone I’ve ever loved in life is dead…”
Me: “… Wait, you guys don’t have central air?”
And although I appreciate what the previous generations did for us, there are a few things I refuse to respect. Any time I ask my parents if I formatted a letter envelope correctly, they give me shit and say stuff like “How do you not know how to send a letter?” I don’t know dad, the same reason my kids won’t know how to rewind a VHS tape, and the same reason you’ve never used our bathtub to make butter…
– Joey Boats (@joey_boats)