REWRITING HISTORY: HOW HARD CAN IT BE

People are rewriting history all of the time and don’t know it.

If you repeat what you’ve heard to one person, and it turns out to be not accurate, what’s the big deal?

Not so big for one person, but what if you repeat what you know to be false to millions of people?

Do that and you’re not only rewriting your own history, but in the case of people with a great need to believe in something, anything, you’re rewriting their history too.

That’s the part that bothers me most.

Go ahead and joke around, tell your version of events, but eventually you need to find the truth.

Unfortunately, we have different attention spans.

Some of us have long term memory, some of have short term, and some of us have it all.

The ‘have it all’ people are who to pay attention to, especially when they play to their audience.

If you know your audience and want to keep them with you, tell them what they want to hear.

Go ahead and stand up and let it fly, just be sure to take notes and make corrections if things don’t go as planned.

A personal experience is one thing. How big was that fish? How far did you walk? And my favorite, ‘Where are you from?’

That’s my favorite because people seem ashamed of their home.

 

Where Are You From

If you are grounded in truth, justice, and the American Way, you know where you’re from.

But why not spice things up for rewriting history.

Ditch your sad little town for the big city and bright lights.

Where I grew up in North Bend, Oregon, Eugene was big city and bright lights.

By the time I lived in Eugene it felt small and dim, another logging town trying to shake its roots.

Luckily Springfield was nearby to keep things real.

One of my classmates moved to Seattle and says he tells people he’s from Coos Bay when they ask.

Why? Because Coos Bay is more badass? Has a body of water by the same name?

Or, most likely, people don’t know where North Bend is. Is it in Washington, a section of town in Bend, or all of it?

My eyes opened on Cambridge, England when I asked some guy if they knew where Portland, Oregon was.

Never heard of it.

Seattle?

Oh, yes.

San Francisco?

Of course.

I didn’t ask about North Bend, but I think I know the answer.

 

Rewriting History From A Faulty Memory

Who among us has the audacity of trying to explain an alternative view of events to people we know?

You’ll know you have good friends if they shut you down.

But what if they don’t? Just know you are with the group going the wrong way, and so are you.

What to do? Check your sources.

From my personal experience I have high confidence that vitamin C doesn’t cure cancer.

If you drive full speed through a stop sign there may be a car in just the right place at just the right time for you to T-Bone at an intersection.

Let’s say you are normal, or relatively normal, and like most normal people you don’t want to fall through the gaps and end up living in a sidewalk tent.

During my C-Span marathon on Book TV one writer said there are three telling clues about avoiding crushing poverty.

 

1. Graduate from high school.

2. Get a full time job.

3. Don’t have kids before you get married.

 

That bar doesn’t seem too high, does it? My old roommate said his dad told him, “Learn a trade and you can make a living; gain a profession and you can make money.”

Too many gurus talk education down. The funny part about them is they had advanced degrees.

The best one was Timothy Leary’s ‘Turn on, Tune in, Drop out.’

 

Baby Boomer History 

A recent question posted on Twitter asked how so many groovy Baby Boomers had turned conservative after their wild hippie days.

The answers came from kids ratting out their parents for going full blown MAGA.

Did Mom and Dad eat the brown acid and it finally wore off?

The legal weed took the fun out of ‘scoring grass?’

Or is it their version of rewriting history?

What’s their story sound like when asked, “Did you have premarital sex? Did you inhale? Burn your draft card?”

What they did was no one’s damn business. They can say what they want about themselves, but eventually things come out.

I learned things about my Dad at his memorial that I didn’t know.

I’m determined to be the most transparent Dad any kid has had, but in a good way.

My wife says I flap on and on about everything. (I don’t)

My kids say keep them off BoomerPdx. (I do)

The stories I like to tell here are universal in nature, but spring from a personal inspiration.

You can do that when you’ve learned your lessons about love and relationship, about saving and spending, about the rising generations.

I don’t celebrate boomers any more than anyone else. I do celebrate millennials because family.

After you get your shit straight you don’t need any time for rewriting history.

Just keep it interesting if you do nothing else.

Tell us about a devil in blue dress. They are out there; I married one, but that’s another post.