That is what he said when I started out with, “Back in the Day…”
It is hard to admit that I am a Boomer through and through. Of course it kind of snuck up on me. Back in the day, Boomer had to do with Oklahoma, Boomer Sooner and all that stuff.
Others recognized the Boomer in me years ago, I heard one of my students ask another, “Are you on My Space?”
The other said,” yeah, I love it.”
Now first of all girl number two was not nearly close enough to be in girl number one’s space. Now I figure that one’s space should be 3 ft by 3 ft, approximately the distance garlic breath could pass through space.
Sometime later when I was asked whether I was on My Space. I looked down and I seemed to be on “My Space”.
“Yes I am,” I said.
Then there was the Facebook debacle. I heard people saying that they were putting pictures on Facebook. I felt bad for them, my Facebook was already full. However, I heard my students were sending notes back and forth using Facebook. I wanted to warn them that their Facebooks would soon be defaced if it continued. To show them what a clean and neat Facebook looked like, I took it to school with me. The students in class were stunned at first, but smiles and sideways glance gave way to a world-shaking development. My high school yearbook was not the facebook they were taking about. Now back in the day…
Now this selfies thing is amazing. It is enjoyed by nearly everyone, but how did this happen. Back in the day, way back in the day, a guy named Narcissus looked into a pool and fell in love with himself. The definition of Narcissism is the pursuit of gratification from idealised self-image and self-flattery. Sigmund Freud worried about this in the early 1900’s, but it is OK now. Every day some young person invents a new way to do selfies.
I did 50 selfies the other morning. I would look into the mirror with a silly face and then look away only to change my expression and look again. It was magical.
Back in the day, a slit opened on the thigh of my Levis, my mother immediately patched it. We then agreed that the pants were barely presentable in public. The families today must be so embarrassed to have their girls go to school with slits all along their thighs. I’m sure that the parents of those with the most and biggest slits must sit along main street trying to raise enough money so as their children will get new pants.
Perfect dates have have changed as well. Last Friday I took my wife out for a dinner in a very nice restaurant, both of us dressed as well as possible. Since it was for and by a boomer, we talked and laughed a lot just happy to visit alone together. There was a chance that no one else would ever know of our secret rendezvous.
At a table across the way, a millennial couple arrived more casual than necessary and took several selfies before sitting for the meal. I am sure the date was important as evidenced by the number of Facebook shots. Together and quietly alone, they both went to their phones, each in their own world examining how the lives of others were changing. They left knowing that they had spread the word of their encounter.
I am happy to be a boomer, to have lived through many adventures, trials, and tribulations. My time now is to observe, not necessarily understanding the times that we are in and give advice only when asked.