Pig Through the Python

Been reading all the online "The Best of 2010" articles.  Hmmmm.  A pretty unimpressive bunch of stories...and the only significant ones were not good to my way of thinking.

Of course I do believe that shuffling into 2011 is better than not shuffling into 2011.  But I can also say that for the most part I will not miss the year gone by...

On a more positive note I decided moments ago to head to PDX late next week...which certainly cheers me up.  Good company and good food. A good way to start a new year.

I need to go check-out Leah's employment conditions at the Sokol-Blosser winery.  Strictly parental concern, of course.  There's a lot of exploitation in the agricultural sector of the economy and I need to make certain that she's not being fed bad cheese in the tasting room.  It's the least I can do....

Today I went to town to collect my friend, Brent Long, and hauled him out to visit mom.  Brent is visiting his elderly dad.   We grew up in the same neighborhood - we were good pals as youngsters - though we grew apart in our teenage years -  and his folks were contemporaries of my own although they were not close friends.  Both mom and Brent seemed to enjoy the conversation.  I know I enjoyed it.

Brent's dad is 92 and lives in Fireweed Place.  He's doing well...for his age...but at 92 is suffering all the familiar maladies.  Still, 92 is certainly nothing to sneeze-at.  Brent heads back to Seattle tomorrow.

So...back to the dissection of 2010.  Actually, the best article I read today was not about the past year; but about what 2011 means in terms of my favourite hobby horse - the demographics of this country.   The article in today's New York Times is entitled "Boomers Hit New Self-Absorption Milestone:  Age 65".

In keeping with a generation’s fascination with itself, the time has come to note the passing of another milestone: On New Year’s Day, the oldest members of the Baby Boom Generation will turn 65, the age once linked to retirement, early bird specials and gray Velcro shoes that go with everything.
...

Previous generations were raised to speak only when spoken to, and to endure in self-denying silence. But baby boomers were raised on the more nurturing, child-as-individual teachings of Dr. Benjamin Spock, and then placed under the spell of television, whose advertisers marketed their wares directly to children. Parents were cut out of the sale — except, of course, for the actual purchase of that coonskin cap or Barbie doll.
...

“It created a sense of entitlement that had not existed before,” Mr. Gillon said. “We became more concerned with our own emotional well-being, whereas to older generations that was considered soft and fluffy.”

“But the pig has moved through the python, and is moving to the final stage,” Mr. Gillon said. “And we won’t describe what that stage is.”

Here is an attempt: retirement, old age, then a release to a place where the celestial Muzak plays a never-ending loop of the Doobie Brothers.

I don't believe this article was written by a Baby Boomer.  But it has a note of resentment that us boomers better get used to...

Happy New Year everyone!