All Hail the Roaring 20s!

A new decade is almost upon us.

Next Wednesday, we say goodbye to the 20teens and hello to the 2020s.

I won't miss the decade we are leaving.

There has been too much loss during this time.
 
Some of the loss was unexpected, some of it just the natural order of how things happen.
 
Either way, expected or not, loss is still difficult to adjust to.
 
There have been some gains as well.

I won't go into any detail about any of this. I don't want this to come across as whining especially as I know others who have lost far more.
 
My wife says I live too much in the past. She may be right, but I make no apologies for it. I just try to deal with things my own way and much of that includes writing about things. I'm glad for the motivation even if it seems silly to others.
 
I expect loss to come in the 2020s as well.
 
My parents are quite old and I don't expect them to last another 10 years.
 
That is something my sister and I have been preparing for, but I suppose you can't prepare totally.
 
This seems to be one of the many negative aspects of aging. People can try to paint as rosy a picture as they like and say that the alternative is far worse. There is truth in that. But I think people generally tell themselves such things to feel better about it all.
 
I don't require that. I like the reality of it all even when I don't really like it.
 
So, since I rarely post in this blog any more, I thought a nod to the coming 'Roaring' 20s would be appropriate. Just keep the roaring to a minimum, please.
 
Some of us are trying to sleep.

1980s

It was the best of times, it was the best of times. It was the age of coming of age, it was both light and dark and all shades in between. It was the spring of love, it was the winter of pain. Everything lay before us, the road ahead was bright.

It was college. It was the Army.

It was marriage.

It was first forays into sexual intercourse and everyone was awash in testosterone or estrogen.

It was the era of arena rock which found its fertile roots in the decade before. It was the era of rock and roll gods, both foreign and domestic. The bands were big, the sounds were bigger, and so was the hair.

It was the time of independence, the shaking off of parental shackles. It was freedom and energy and desire to move wherever looked best to young bright eyes that hadn't yet been dimmed by age.

It was the decade of first car - four wheels that carried us singing along with the roads we drove and the radio songs blasting through just-installed speakers.

It was trying out new things, new people, new experiences, new places and deciding which were worth keeping.

It was the Cold War and a president who did indeed understand that Communism had formed evil empires around the world. It was a nuclear standoff.

It was the end of M*A*S*H with its worn-out commentary on how bad war is and everyone made it home. Everyone except Henry.

It was Family Ties and the introduction of Michael J. Fox who would go on to become a time traveler while rocking Chuck Berry. It was the Cars asking who was going to drive you home.

It was about rain that was purple, love that was tainted, and it seemed like everyone was livin' on a prayer.

It was the era of Lee Iacocca, the revival of Chrysler and the birth of the minivan. It was also the resurgence of muscle cars which had been quashed by the Clean Air Act of 1970.

It was the introduction of home computing and look at what that has since become.

It was the best of times and slowly but surely the icons of that era are all being erased.

Poem Conundrum

I post poems I write on Facebook. They are up for a few days, then I delete them.  Originally, I had thought to try and develop a market for them, but the effort doesn't seem to have born fruit.

However, a few people seem to like them and writing is a hobby of mine.

I am aware that people make assumptions based on what I write, so often I will add a disclaimer at the bottom for clarity sake. For instance, if a poem I post is particularly dark, I may say that it was just developed from an idea that I fleshed out and not due to any circumstances I am going through at the moment.

I don't need people concerned for my state of mental or spiritual health unnecessarily.

A recent poem I posted was titled "Candy" and it basically talked about a girl who used to be more of a friend, but isn't any more and the narrator ends it with calling her "poison Candy." Just a typical jilted lover kind of piece. I am happily married, so it doesn't reflect anything of my life.

I had a Facebook friend named Candi and I placed a disclaimer at the bottom stating specifically that the poem was in no way referring to her. That I was just playing around with an idea.

Her husband messaged to tell me that she was really upset by the poem.

I promptly deleted it and apologized.

He said he appreciated it.

Later, I unfriended him and her. They were people I knew a long time ago and the chances of seeing them again are slim to none. We just don't run in intersecting circles.

But I found myself irritated by the whole thing. It made me wonder about the whole getting offended thing and whether there's any real responsibility by the 'offender' who takes great pains to try and make people understand that they aren't the target. That the target is, in fact, fictional.

The mindset of living as one offended can really stifle expression. And what right do these people have to wreak that kind of oppression?

Welcome to today.