BOOMER LOCKDOWN: TALKING ‘BOUT MY GENERATION

The saying of ‘you get a better look at America from the outside’ has never been more true for the coming boomer lockdown.

I’m on the outside, the France side, and I finally found the right look I’ve been searching for.

What I see is the Eiffel Tower showing it’s dazzle, like the biggest continual sparkler in history every hour on the hour in front of a huge park full of picnic blankets and catered dinners on picnic blankets and men carrying iced buckets full of beer and wine bottles for sale.

That’s when it came to me.

I’ll do little blogger magic now so try and keep up.

The human lifespan is an apt comparison to social evolution. Here we go:

At first both are helpless, flopping around, trying to find a way that works for them. The human wiggles and cries and eats; society did the same over in Mesopotamia.

Time moves on with human and society both peaking. The human stands full of hope and power, creating tall buildings and speeding trains while society delivers what’s needed to all strata of life.

Later, the human lifespan becomes aware of morality through illness or near death event; society starts neglecting those on the fringes, the falsely accused, and the weak.

Boomer Lockdown

It took traveling to France to enlighten me, with Paris carrying the torch.

Walking around town as witness to the built environment both past and present, along with the social awareness of a nation determined to construct massive stone messages to the future, felt like a crushing weight to bear.

Somehow the French do just that, and bear up just fine.

It’s the same way a boomer lockdown feels. We get blamed for this, accused of that, while most of us are happy living a life celebrated by early impressionist painters: nobodies living nowhere and feeling just fine.

Some could have done better, some still can; some forgot their purpose and lost their way; and still more found an identity and a life celebrated by modern art.

Younger generations look at us, because of our age, as icons of Academic art, as if we have angel wings and halos, then despise us for not flying high enough or shining bright enough.

The boomer lockdown comes from a lack of borders, or outlining, and mixing colors on the canvas instead of the easel. Who else has had to navigate as many obstacles only to find other demographics complain we’re a mess.

Not every boomer burned their bra, their draft card, moved to Canada, got drafted, served in Vietnam, or Germany. Not every boomer was on the pill, tripping on acid, or fighting The Man.

Those who enjoy living in quiet anonymity, punching their education ticket, sports ticket, their career ticket, marriage ticket, family ticket, their dog ticket, house ticket, and writing ticket, the vast population of nobodies living nowhere who will be interred in cemetery ceremonies attended by those who barely knew them, are a happy bunch.

They got some satisfaction and like how it feels, fits, and wears.

And that’s not against the law.