THE UNITED FEELING FROM HERE

I get that united feeling when I think about how much we all have in common.

It’s a growing feeling, but still elusive when differences are strong.

Fortunately, being different is a good thing, not a shame thing.

We have that in common. But, still . . .

I’ve always had a sideways relationship with the word ‘culture.’

What the heck is it, and why is it important?

Then I read this definition:

Culture means I know that you know what I know.

For some reason this interpretation sings to me.

I know a lot of people. Not all of them are old friends, best friends, or relatives, but it’s a group with more in common than not.

Like many, my smart friends keep their feelings to themselves and communicate on common ground.

Common ground?

As a baby boomer, the people in my cohort are considered senior citizens, some more senior than others.

These are people who navigated the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and more, until we get to the current times.

As young men we were in the sweet spot when it came to turning eighteen.

We were required to register for the military draft in order to be eligible for federal student loans for college.

But the draft ended before we got an enlistment letter, or our number popped up in the draft lottery.

Hell no, we didn’t have to go.

After my freshman year I went against the grain and joined the Army anyway.

Two years later I returned to college as a serious student with an agenda.

I didn’t want to know everything, but I wanted to know where to look.

With that goal in mind, I graduated in U.S. history with an emphasis on NW history.

It still feels like a big accomplishment.

I’m glad I submitted to the process of higher education every time I hear a commercial about going back to school and finishing a degree.

Does that make me out to be some kind of historical authority?

What more would a blogger need?

 

When BoomerPdx Works Best

I find readers around the world coming in here for a few posts.

The thrill of new readers is never gone.

My hope, my dream, is that someone in some far away land finds my blog and spends time here, copies a few links of their favorite posts, and sends it to their friends.

That’s the organic, grassroots, way of growing blog traffic.

The other way is gaming the system with black hat SEO, or buying traffic.

Yesterday I had forty hits from China, a record I’m happy to report.

What are my Chinese readers looking for?

I don’t know, but here’s what they’ll get: the kind of culture that encourages people to know what they know.

For that it takes what’s called Cultural Exchange.

Over the years my wife and I have hosted students from China, Japan, Spain, France, and more.

When my kids went to Spain for a few months of immersion in another language, before they got married and had kids, they ended with a two week Euro Rail pass.

They visited the kids who’d stayed here and met their families.

They got the royal treatment. I think it gave them greater appreciation of where they are in the bigger world.

Their adventurous spirit made me and my wife proud parents.

My own cultural exchange trip came from sports.

When I wrestled in high school there was a tournament at the end of the season where the winners went to Japan, or New Zealand.

One guy went to South Africa.

I didn’t win a trip to Japan, but because I was the Oregon state Greco-Roman champion at 190 lbs I was eligible for the Oregon All Star Wrestling Team trip.

We went to Iowa where the language barrier wasn’t too high, toured through Illinois for a month, then finished with the Junior National Championship tournament at the University of Iowa.

It was a great learning experience. The winner in my weight class won a trip to Poland.

I came in third from a bad call, which was disappointing.

In my writing work I try and build on success and failure with the notion of changing winning or losing, to winning or learning.

I’ve learned to work through disappointments, and you can too.

 

The Message To New Readers 

Older generations complain about younger people.

It’s their favorite pastime.

Things start with, “Back in my day . . .” and get worse.

Elton John recorded this in 1973:

 

So it’s ki yi yippie yi yi
You long hairs are sure gonna die
Our American home was clean till you came
And kids still respected the president’s name

And the eagle still flew in the sky
Hearts filled with national pride
Then you came along with your drug-crazy songs
Goddamit you’re all gonna die

 

It was called Texas Love Song.

Now it’s over fifty years later and what do you know?

We really are gonna die.

The message is finally sinking in at 70.

What to do?

You’d think people my age wouldn’t fall for the bullshit after sitting with friends and their older brothers back from Vietnam.

After watching Nixon wave on his way out the door after Watergate, we all sharpened up?

If not, why not?

My careful analysis shows people hoping for the best for them and theirs are telling anyone who disagrees to suck it.

These are proud Americans who know that I know what they know.

I didn’t grow up in a bubble of caring neighbors and friends after I left home.

Anonymous cities like New York and Philadelphia dialed in my own humanity.

There were lots of people, so many people, where do they all go at the end of the day?

Me? I left for my home state and its biggest city, Portland, which was small in comparison.

But there’s a disconnect between east coast and west coast.

We in the far west ought to be immune to the consensus of nonsense spooned out over the airwaves.

It turns out that raw feelings of disappointment directed by a media source with expert precision crosses every boundary.

“You’re getting hosed and don’t even know it.”

You know more than you get credit for.

 

PS: To my regular readers: welcome the new folks from China to this one horse, one writer, personal blogger blog.

PS: To my new readers from China: Thank you for coming, and don’t forget to copy a link to your favorite post and send it to family and friends. Find out if they really know what you know. I’m here to help with that united feeling.