I sat down to drink an adult beverage with a Baby Boomer the other day. We got into a deep discussion of post-World War America and all the changes that have transpired. It didn’t take long while the beverage was flowing, that this man started down memory lane about how meaningful and amazing the sixties were. Nails to a chalkboard to me.

He explained to me how you just had to be there. America was going through changes that were so historic, he was telling me. He digressed into a self-diluted tirade on how the generation nowadays has no idea of the historic nature of the Boomers. I sat patiently listening to the wonder years. I mean, after all, he financed the flow of adult libations, so I could hardly throw a wet blanket on the fire burning in his eyes as he told me his story.

It was a story I’d heard before. It was a tale we’ve all heard at one time or another. I mean they just can’t keep themselves from transposing their twisted version of how important they all were and how history was so big right in front of their eyes. I felt like I was in the Three Dogs Night song, “Jeremiah was a Bullfrog.” You know, “he was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he’d said but I’d helped him drink his wine. He always had some mighty fine wine.” So, we drank, and I listened while we watched the sun going down on a hot spring night enjoying my vacation.

The next day I woke up and was haunted by those words he spoke. I couldn’t believe how clueless and removed from how destructive his generation had been to America. How utterly clueless and not self-aware of his contribution to our decline. He had no understanding of the cancer or virus that has eaten away at the core of mankind at the hands of his generation. His dismissal of history itself after the sixties was stunning.

📷According to him and his cohorts, I guess not much happened of any importance after the sixties. I mean it is not like we got to see the end of the Cold War or anything. The riots of the summer of 2020 couldn’t possibly compare to the Watts riots in his mind. The discovery and complete mapping of DNA couldn’t possibly compare to the discovery of LSD and the application of these two things could never overshadow one another if you believed his delusions.

Speaking of discovery, yes, I heard the Boomer’s generation made it to the moon, but I guess that is much bigger, juxtaposed to space stations, space shuttles, and the Hubble and Webb telescopes. I mean I’m sure science learned more from bringing back a moon rock than it could have from Hubble and the origins of the universe. Now I apperceive Vietnam as the war that ended all wars in their minds. I know my generation coasted with those pesky wars in Bosnia, Afghanistan, and those two Iraq wars. Boomer’s thoughts on history are peculiar. I guess that giant hole in the middle of downtown Manhattan does not have much history to Boomer’s standards. I mean they had the Gulf of Tonkin and all.

No, No, No! I want to understand the sixties. They were so much more meaningful. After all, you did have JFK and that was certainly history. It is not like you could line up on the wall, every picture of all the US presidents and see any history among all those old white guys with the addition of that new guy from 2008; no, you had JFK. My generation just lacks that presidential history thing, I guess.

Now I would never compare the importance of 8tracks to the Internet. I mean these two things must be equal in historic value. I do want to at least give the Boomers credit for having good music in the sixties, but then I remembered it was the American Boomers and the corporations they created, that killed music forever. I could go on and on and on, but hey, I think we get the point here.

So now I was going to make sure this Baby Boomer I had these drinks with was going to get a piece of my mind. I picked up my smartphone, which was not a rotary by the way} and told my phone to dial his number. The phone rang five times, and he picked up. He said hello. Now I was ready. Now I was going to lay this Boomer out. I had enough. I said you know! You got it all wrong DAD!

C. Rich

CRich@AmericaSpeaksInk.com

C. Rich

C. Rich is the voice behind America Speaks Ink, home to the America First Movement. As an author, poet, freelance ghostwriter, and blogger, C. Rich brings a “baked-in” perspective shaped by growing up on the streets and beaches of South Florida in the 1970s-1980s and brings a quintessential Generation-X point of view.

Rich’s writing journey began in 2008 with coverage of the Casey Anthony trial and has since evolved into a wide-ranging exploration of politics, culture, and the issues that define our times. Follow C. Rich’s writing odyssey here at America Speaks Ink and on Amazon with a four-book series on Donald Trump called “Trump Era: The MAGA Files” and many other books and subjects C. Rich is known to cover.

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