Good ‘Ol Days? Maybe, Maybe Not

It’s that time again, they kids are out of school and they are experiencing the much deserved (?) time off from school (seemingly the bulk of which they have already missed due to snow in the Northern Virginia Area).  Now the little and not-so-little tykes can free themselves from the bond of lackluster public and overpriced private institutions of learning so they can explore time with family and friends and learn real life lessons…in a week…hmm, okay.

Remember when we were young and we had our own spring break? A week seemed like an eternity.  We woke up whenever we wanted, perhaps went on a camping trip with the family, and maybe went to an amusement park, anything we wanted. Life was a collection of fun moments with nary a responsibility in sight. Much like the beloved comic strip Calvin and Hobbes, are days were spent outdoors causing mischief and doing things that are considered ancient history by now.  Things like Kick the Can and Freeze Tag and Hide and Seek…all ancient history.  And you know what? That’s okay.

              We all remember the ‘good ‘ol days.’ You know, when we begin to tell our kids just how much our generation was the pinnacle of modern civilization and how much, how mind-bogglingly much their generation won’t amount to a hill of beans compared to us. But here I sit thumbing through an old yearbook from Oakton High School, or Navy Elementary or Franklin Middle School and the though just struck me like a clowder of cats being shot at me by a high velocity cannon: Things weren’t all that great back then either.  In my case, it was the 1980’s and 1990’s.

              Okay, okay, I know. I was a nerdy kid…hmm, wait, no. Nerdy would imply I was a good student. Far be it for me to lie in a blog so I’ll just say I was a geek. I had nerd tendencies just not the motivation to earn me the nerd merit badge by being great in school.  But as we look back, we didn’t have any of the sophisticated video games back then (Yes, I had an Atari 2600 and yes I had ET and yes, it was butt-awful), music was a bunch of hairbands and only a handful were great. Clothes consisted of jeans and surfer shirts, even though none of us could surf.  

              Granted, the toys were the best, He-Man, GI Joe, Transformers (the old kind, kiddos) all were fun, all were great, and all would have psychomoms calling for their manufacturer’s head due to their safety inconsiderations.  And we were happy. And Playgrounds? Heck, we had playgrounds full of splinters and nails sticking out of them and not one kid died. We used to have contests to see how far we could be thrown off the tire swing and still be able breath without a tube.  We won most of the time.

              But aside from toys and playgrounds, today’s kids outclass us all the way. I mean they are smarter…perhaps due to the whole tire swing idea we had when we were there age, they have a faster sense of humor than we did in the old days and they are able to understand complex thoughts like how to actually keep score during a sports game when all the teachers and parents are too afraid to admit it’s an actual completion.  

              So, kiddos, don’t let old farts like me tell you kids today are nothing like the kids back in the ‘good old days.’  To quote a Billy Joel song, “The good old days weren’t always good, and tomorrow ain’t as bad as it seems.’

Until Next Time,

Be Good or Be Good At It!

These kids today

Remember when you were growing up and believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that your generation was, and forever will be, the smartest, hippest, and coolest generation in the history of mankind?  Well, it turns out we were right; only in a completely and utterly wrong sort of way.  These kids today (oh those words), including my daughter, are something completely outside the realm of historical mankind. I prefer to reference the generation as more Cyborg Magellans than the next advance into the human experience.   

             This is NOT a bad thing.  To date, mankind have devolved into a bunch of cavemen and cavewomen when put into a group begin bickering over labels, throwing bones of idiocy and salivating over buzzwords. I, and the others of my generation, are the absolute pinnacle of mankind’s evolution.  That’s it, we’ve reached the top. Yay…but there is one small thing…the Grand Architect has decided that our evolution took a wrong turn in Albuquerque and it’s been decided that they’re just going to scrap the first model and move onto a completely different prototype.  Enter the Cyborg Magellans.

             Named after the famed Portuguese explorer, these new have the inborn ability to communicate with computers and all electronic devices (perhaps toasters, too, but the data on that is, to date, inconclusive) to which they become exposed.  They no longer require actual human contact as they prefer bandwidth to brotherhood and being wireless rather than witty.  My nine year old daughter is a prime example of the Cyborg Magellan.

             I am a gamer (that’s an inclusive title for anyone who loves the hell out of video games).  Not a particularly good one, but a proud one nonetheless.  There I am, 38 years old and trying desperately to defeat a mighty 12 year old over the internet in a game of…ya know I don’t think I can mention the name of the game for fear of copyright infringement so I’ll just say that I used to ice skate and would FALL all the time…did I mention I like the Tennessee TITANs football team? Oh well, I digress. I start to get disgusted having died for the 8^th time in 45 seconds and I accidently drop my controller across the room. My Cyborg Magellan picks up the controller and scores multiple kills in 17 seconds. I have to be honest with you…I cried a little. 

              So as a proud representation of the end of the line generation for mankind, I say it’s all yours Cyborg Magellans.  Now I get to sit back and watch…should be one heck of a show!

Oh, and just in case one tries to pin me down as to who the Grand Architect is or if it’s part of a grand conspiracy, I can’t give you details because it’s a secret. 

Until Next Time, 10110111011011011 (binary for Be Good or Be Good At It!)