BOOMER SLUR? WATCH YOUR MOUTH

The baby boomer slur comes from younger people.

It goes like this: “You sound just like a Boomer.”

Yeah, we get it. Just like a boomer.

So I did the research, the hard work, the deep dive.

In other words, I watched the opening to Saving Private Ryan.

No, not the massacre on the beach, but the scene in the graveyard where the old veteran Private Ryan takes a knee and his baby boomer kids all rush him.

Then the Normandy Beach.

Here’s the deal: We see Tom Hanks with his guys all getting shot to hell, but not him.

Then an explosion near him turns him deaf. And probably concussed.

We see what he sees through a different lens, almost from a sense of remove, before he regains his senses.

That’s when he crosses the line.

He’s forced to act, to do things and see things no one could possible live with.

He’s on the beach taking fire and his men ask, “Now what?”

“Get off the beach.”

He’s the officer sending men to their death. They know it, he knows it, and they still ‘get in the war.’

How doesn’t anyone live with that?

A Band Of Boomers’ Dads

Captain John Miller (Tom Hanks) takes his men behind enemy lines to find Private James Ryan, whose three brothers have been killed in combat.

Surrounded by the brutal realties of war, while searching for Ryan, each man embarks upon a personal journey and discovers their own strength to triumph over an uncertain future with honor, decency and courage.

Then they came home to find Jody got their girl.

They won the war but lost the battle of true love.

With that bitterness they marry the first girl that doesn’t think they’re a psycho until the question comes up. You know, ‘The Question?’

It’s the question you should never ask: “So what did you do in the war?”

Every time I hear ‘Baby Boomer’ I test it as a boomer slur on the dads.

The kids born from WWII veterans are the First Boomers, and in my opinion, the True Boomers.

Their dads were the most stressed soldiers in history who came home to domestic life after kissing the grateful citizens of England, France, and Italy.

What could go wrong?

I never asked my Dad what he did in the war, the Korean War.

It was a ‘Police Action.’ I grew up thinking he was a policeman in the Marine Corps.

Then I cracked the books. He wasn’t a policeman.

After my parents divorced, and the old man remarried, I visited the newly weds.

“What Did You Do In The War?”

I’ve always wanted to know more and figured he’d have to say something in front of his new wife.

He was trapped on the couch.

Dixie said, “Tell him what you told me,” and left the room.

This is the official story I learned at my Dad’s funeral from the guys he served with.

Participating in the attack against heavily defended enemy hill positions when his squad was subjected to sudden and intense hostile small arms, automatic weapons and mortar fire, inflicting several casualties, including the squad leader who had to be evacuated at once, Corporal Gillespie bravely moved from man to man through the fire-swept area to assume command of the unit.

Reorganizing the squad, he skillfully led an assault to overrun the first objective and, after evacuating several wounded men, directed a final devastating attack to completely rout the enemy.

How does anyone live with that? They just do.

The moms, the dads, the kids. So save the boomer slur.

The Other Story

“When we moved up the peninsula we came down from the ridges and cleared towns.

We’d go street by street, block by block.

I carried a Thompson.

At each side street I stuck it around the corner and fired a burst before taking a look.

Except one time.

I looked first one time and saw a young mother with two small kids.

That was the end of the war story.

We sat on the couch and looked at each other longer than I expected.

Now I knew, but just what did I learn?

Don’t ask people what they did in the war, any war. If they want you to know they’ll tell you.

Dixie came back in the room.

“Hon, tell him …”

I stood up and gave her a hug.

“I’ve got to get going. Thanks, Dad. Talk later, Dixie.”

Since then I’ve figured this out:

If you don’t want to field uncomfortable questions from your kids, don’t get divorced.

Whenever I hear derogatory talk about baby boomers, when I hear a boomer slur, I think of the dads who went through the fire before settling on their small town block and raising a family without going crazy.

That’s the example they set for the rest of us.

Now daddy don’t like no boomer slur, so watch your mouth?