and a link to my Sunday column at DBAWIS: https://bobsegarini.wordpress.com/2015/02/22/roxanne-tellier-it-was-what-it-was-but-more/
I’ll be back tomorrow.
meanwhile …, a little peek into my other life …
From Grammarly (https://www.facebook.com/grammarly)
Some days I wake up charged with ideas and passion, unable to sleep as I mentally write the day’s blog. Other days, I’m like the Marion Keyes’ character in “The Woman Who Stole My Life,” who, while trying to begin a second book, finds herself spending hours in front of the keyboard, only to finally type just one word … arse.
This is an arse day.
Oh, I have lots of thoughts reeling through my mind, on many subjects. I’m trying to parse my feelings about the Charlie Hebdo massacre, and reading compelling follow up articles that have different takes on the ongoing siege and tragedy. I’m listening to what others have to say, whether they come from a militant or pacifist angle.
I’m receiving mail and messages commenting on the role of empathy in a democratic society, and decrying the position the Far Right has taken in regards to the less fortunate. The loudest voices always seem to demand more for those that already have so much, and less for those with basic needs.
I’m contemplating the ‘bad eggs’ in society, those who continually get away with actions that would land an ordinary citizen in jail, but whose allegiances with corporate or political factions keep them safe and in powerful positions. And, despite the world’s embracing of the “I Am Charlie” manifesto, and the vaunted demand for freedom of expression, I’m a little frightened myself to talk against those in power, for fear of reprisals.
I’m inwardly chuckling over people who use their 15 seconds of fame to insert their feet so thoughtfully into their mouths. What would we do without the Rob Fords, Sarah Palins and Kardashians of the world? They seem to exist solely to play the role of court jester in the mainstream media.
I’m mulling over how easy it is to be misunderstood when presenting one’s ideas. With few cues in the printed word beyond exclamation marks and emoticons, communication can become muddied through what is written, and how it is perceived. A simple sentence, tossed away in easy face to face conversation, can be taken in social media as a declaration of war. Perhaps the pen is indeed mightier than the sword.
Certainly there are days when a winky smiley face can defuse a hothead.
I’m also feeling very grateful that I can count so many intelligent, creative and fascinating people amongst my friends, both on social media and in real life. Not everyone agrees with what I have to say, but that’s a good thing – if we all spent time in complete agreement on every subject, we would soon be bored. The key to understanding any part of life is listening to all sides of the story. As long as we can listen to other viewpoints without losing our tempers and stalking away, we keep the dialogue open and let fresh air into our minds.
So perhaps it’s not so much an ‘arse’ day as it is a day to regroup one’s thoughts, and decide where energies should be concentrated. Writing clarifies thinking, and concentrates random concepts so that they can hopefully be understood both by the writer and the reader. In order to present ideas that are ideally both important and well-expressed, the odd ‘arse’ day may be as necessary to a writer as a mental health day to those more gainfully employed.
At least that’s today’s excuse. (insert winky smiley face.)
Angry young men inspired the beatniks of the 50’s, and the hippies of the 60’s. Sadly, we then devolved into the disco bunnies of the 70s, but everybody’s got something to hide except for me and my monkey.
When I googled the origins of the phrase, here’s what I googged:
angry young men, term applied to a group of English writers of the 1950s whose heroes share certain rebellious and critical attitudes toward society. This phrase, which was originally taken from the title of Leslie Allen Paul’s autobiography, Angry Young Man (1951), became current with the production of John Osborne’s play Look Back in Anger (1956). The word angry is probably inappropriate; dissentient or disgruntled perhaps is more accurate. The group not only expressed discontent with the staid, hypocritical institutions of English society—the so-called Establishment—but betrayed disillusionment with itself and with its own achievements. Included among the angry young men were the playwrights John Osborne and Arnold Wesker and the novelists Kingsley Amis, John Braine, John Wain, and Alan Sillitoe. In the 1960s these writers turned to more individualized themes and were no longer considered a group. (source:The Columbia Electronic Encyclopedia®.)
Born in the 50s, I claim those men as my heritage. Their ‘anger’ allowed my generation to express their frustration at a world mired in tradition, social stigmas, and suppositions. Champing at the bit to change the world we had inherited, we burned our bras, sat in for peace, started communes, and created more art and music than you could shake a joint at. We thought we had invented sex, drugs, and the Age of Aquarius. Then we all grew up, got married, had kids, and changed into slightly weirder versions of our parents. A lot of us died far too young, many from self-inflicted life choices.
But here we remain, the largest population group in history, the Baby Boomers, the enormous bulge in the tummy of society’s snake, all of us getting older, some of us getting wiser.
January 1, 2011 officially begins the era of the “Golden” Baby Boomer, those Boomers who are about to retire from a career or profession. That’s not me on both levels; I’m not retirement age, and, due to my own choices, will never properly ‘retire’, as I never stayed in any career or profession long enough to build a retirement fund. Most of the people I know are in the same boat – musicians, artists, writers who didn’t get the brass ring or the gold watch.
And just as Boomers have affected every other decade through their sheer numbers, we are about to impact society with our physical and mental health needs, leisure choices, and economics. Those of us who didn’t ‘die before we got old’ are going to get older, sicker and poorer. Society will have to deal with our issues – hopefully not in a ‘Soylent Green’ fashion – and our kids will likely have to bear the cost of our retirement and health care. (note to self: be nicer to the kids.)
But on the bright side, most of us also benefited from decent schooling, and inherited the backbone and street smarts of parents and grandparents, who lived in simpler times, but managed to live through two World Wars, the Great Depression, and, ultimately, us. And we’ve lived long enough to have a fairly good overview of life’s ups and downs. We’re neither as cynical nor gullible as we once were. We’ve realized that yes, Life’s a Bitch, but so are we, when provoked.
And that’s why I have started this blog. I know that, for many of us, the last couple of years have been tough, with problems coming at us like a swarm of flies. We’re the Sandwich Generation of caregivers now, as well, with kids still at home, but parents still hanging in. Fish are dropping out of the sky, Haiti’s still a mess, and now Japan has been sucker punched. Crazies are lining up to see Charlie Sheen’s meltdown up close and personal. If you hate your job, tough, ‘cause there aren’t any others out there for you. Today’s music, overall, just can’t beat the music of our youth. And if you want to get out to a club to hear a band and maybe meet someone, you can’t soothe your nerves with cigarettes, and you better stick to one drink or you could get busted driving home.
WE are the new ‘angry young men’, those of us who still give a damn. With the perspective of age, we look back on what worked and what didn’t, and look forward to an increasingly litigious, PC, over controlled world. That, my friends, is frustration.
Frustrated Boomers unite!