This last week granddaughter Ellie turned nine years old.  Besides once again being reminded of just how fast time goes sometimes, I tend to reflect on what I was doing in those years.  What things were important to me and what my life was like at nine.  I was a Cub Scout at nine and probably working on my Bear Patch after conquering the Wolf.  Next would come Lion, Webelos (We‘ll Be Loyal Scouts) and then the jump to Boy Scouts.  I didn’t make it to Explorer, as “Girls and hormones” got in the way I suppose.

But at nine I was into trains, planes and cars, like most boys my age in the fifties.  In Ellie, I see some of myself if only imagined.  She has a wonderful imagination and sometimes lives in that world of fantasy as I did.  An age of innocence when the realities of adulthood are still so many years away.  When it is still ok to have an “Imaginary Friend” to share time with.  When dreams are reality and every young lady is a princess.

Ellie has a innate love for all animals and with a caring and generous heart she marvels at their individual uniqueness.  As a young boy around her age I remember playing like I was different animals even at school.  This I must believe is normal when I see Ellie mimicking cats, dogs and any other animal that has captured her fancy at the time.  With abandonment of any self-consciousness,  she lives within the moment.

Ellie also has natural curiosity for things mechanical and loves to be involved with building and fixing things.  Again I can relate and see this as a good sign.  It is so important to cultivate her desire to learn new things so she gains and understanding of the world around her.

Ellie’s world is and will be so much different than it was when I was her age and in years to come one can only imagine the marvelous things she will see in her lifetime.

So darling Ellie, I wish you enough of everything to make you rounded in your life experience.  Enough good times and bad to realize and appreciate to really good ones.  Enough friends good and bad to know the difference when you are fortunate enough to have ones come into your life that are true.  Just enough material things, so that you do not take for granted the simplest of them.  Enough happiness and sorrow, so that you can feel deeply.  May not all of your dreams come true, so that you still have a few left in the end.

Love, Grandpa

Good Morning,

About a month ago and close to the time that granddaughter Sophie Alese Long celebrated her first birthday, I received this photo of her.  Since then I have had it as my desktop, relegating the previous photo of Jeanie & I to the archives.

Besides having great composition, lighting and pose, I am taken in by the pensive look on Sophie’s face well beyond her years.  I cannot help wondering what she could be thinking at the time the photo was taken.  I do not remember anything of my first year and only with the help of photos can I place myself in the moment captured it those early years.

So, is it possible that she could be having such a deep thought as her expression implies to me and is she really seeing into her future with that distant gaze?

There is such an innocence I see in her perfect complexion and lack of lines on her face brought on by the challenges to her nature, still to be.  Missing too, but hopefully to come are the “laugh lines” beside her eyes, which will reflect the joys in her life.

For me and for most parents, grandparents and the like, the face of a child, especially our own, brings hope to the world and through them we can envision the future beyond our mortal existence.  They become the generations to carry on after we have met our just reward and are archived in the annals of the family tree.

What will Sophie’s world look like when she is my age some 65 years from now in 2076?  With the advancements in technology and medicine, which now grow exponentially, she could be connected in ways we can only imagine and live well beyond “old age” as we see it today.  Of course there are many other factors that come into play and life is not perfect, nor does it come with a guarantee of health and happiness.

So this leaves me with a wish and a purpose.

• The wish… is that Sophie will have a life of freedom and that of she chooses.  That she will have enough, yet not so much that she looses the appreciation of not having.  That she has passion for the people and things she loves and is willing to take a chance on love.  That she finds joy in the every day things and is awed by a sunset or the beauty of the ocean.  That she has empathy for other humans of all races and even the smallest of living things.  That she has dreams and some of the special ones become reality.
• The purpose… is that as much as I can, I be there when she wants me to be.  This as a vision of the past and a path to her roots and in turn I get to glimpse the future.

La Dolce Vita to you, dear Sophie.

Love, Dad

Good Morning,

It was 66 years ago today on a Tuesday in Portland, Oregon that I first opened my eyes to this amazing new world.  While my interests were more focused on instinctive things like mother’s milk and trying to deal with the freedoms, sights and sounds of this world of light and air outside of the womb, much more was going on around me, the comprehension of which, would take me many years to understand.

You see, World War II was coming to and end and Nazi Germany was being sliced and diced like so much cheese by the French, British, United States and the Soviets.  About a month earlier Japan had succumb to the first use of “Weapons of Mass Destruction” by any nation, with the dropping of the atomic bombs, “Little Boy” on the city of Hiroshima and “Fat Man” on Nagasaki.  Now General Douglas MacArthur was in Japan to enforce the “terms of surrender” and change the culture of Japan forever.

There was much jubilation as the war was coming to an end and many of the 8 million US Army troops would be coming home, spawning the “Baby Boomers” that just followed my “War Baby” generation.  Ok…ok, so I wasn’t a “War Baby” in the true definition, but I was born during that time.  We were the harbingers of the “Social Services Crisis” that is now being wrought by the numbers of “Baby Boomers” retiring.

Interesting that some in the Catholic Church found a way to blame abortion for the crisis of lowering the population contributing to the social money pool.  Now I am not a economics professor, but I’m pretty sure that most of those births would have been to mothers without the normal “family” support (like participating fathers) and therefore would have ended up be a burden on society as well.  But that is just my opinion, oh and that of John Donohue and Steve Levitt who proposed their hypothesis concerning unwanted pregnancies and how abortion has affected the crime rate in America.  But, I wander… and besides, as expected, there are many rebuttals to their hypothesis as well.

As is typical, I have wandered off of my main theme here.  Anyway, being born when I was and by the way, not only do I feel fortunate for being born, but also for the parents I had and the times in this world that I have been able to experience so many historical and personal events.  There are so many I could name, but for just a few like, Television, Rock n’ Roll, Vietnam, Assignation of a President, First Marriage, Birth of a Daughter, Landing of a Man on the Moon, Birth of a Son, Second Marriage, Birth of Second Son, Move to Oregon, Death of Fathers, Birth of Grandson, Death of Mothers, Several Changes in Jobs, Birth of Grand Daughter, Move to Arizona, Business Ventures, Birth of Granddaughter, IPOD and so many others ad nauseam.  I guess what I am saying is, that I have enjoyed being alive these 66 year and experiencing the “things of life” here on earth.
I am also grateful for the things I have, the close family and friends that have been the most important part of my life along the way and however long this road may be, I must say, it has been quite a trip.

So today, I celebrate these “things of life” and the blessings I have been given.

Love, Dad

Good Morning,

When I was a young man in my adolescence and well into my teens, maybe even a few years beyond, I self-studied Practical Physics.  I never had the academic prowess to actually take Physics in school as that required more than I was either willing or capable.

No… my Physics Education came for the practical applications my friends Jan, Terry, Leon and I conjured up as a young boys living in rural Modesto, CA.

Here are a few of the Physics lessons we learned:

• How big and how many nails it took to “reliably” attach a board to a tree so you could climb up to the tree fort.  (Shear Factors & Leverage)  Failure to use the proper size or quantity can result in the board coming loose and nails being impaled in your leg.
• That nailing a bunch of boards together in the shape of an airplane does not guarantee that it will fly when you throw it from the hayloft of a barn.  (Gravity & Aerodynamics) Albeit fun to watch it crash and come apart.
• That giving your friend (Leon) a ride on your handlebars can be hazardous, especially when his boot gets caught in the spokes and you both go “tail over teakettle” with a face plant, Leon, me and the bike on top of us both.  (Newton’s Law, A body in motion tends to stay in motion…)  Bonus: I also learned how to replace spokes in a bike wheel.
• That old steel roller skates, a 2×4 and a fruit crate can make a pretty cool scooter.  (Friction & Energy) Hard to push, but more fun thanwalking.
• That tying cans to a string across the road and then pulling it taunt when a car comes along can really upset some drivers.  (Reaction Times & Consequences)  Having an escape route is important and NEVER try this in front of your own house.
• That throwing Green Walnuts against a stucco wall at school to watch them splatter is not something you want to do, especially if you are the ones that have to stay after school and scrub them off.  (Kinetics of Impact & Natural Chemical Stains) Walnut Stains are difficult to remove from hands, clothing and especially stucco.
• That making a sled out of a peach box with runners can be fun when pulling your friend through a muddy orchard.  (Viscosity & Drag)  Being hosed off by your mom after was fun too.
• That sticking your finger in a light socket can be energizing.  (Reaction Times & Properties of Electricity)  Respect for that invisible energy source was also permanently burned into my brain.
• That if you drop a glob of Mercury on the floor, it goes all over the place and it is very hard to gather back up.  (Liquid Metals and Impacts)  Note: When I was just 18, I bought a pound of mercury and empty gel capsules from the drug store.  Try doing that today.
• That playing with your Gilbert Chemistry Set on the middle of your bed can totally mess up your bedspread and ceiling when something explodes.  (Heat Expansion & Chemical Stains again.)  Note: Among other things, my set had Potassium Nitrate, Charcoal and Sulfur, the three main ingredients for Black Powder.  They just don’t make them like they used to.
• That unless you use a Dethermalizer on your hand-built model glider, it can and will get taken up and away in a thermal and you will possibly never see it again.  (Aerodynamic & Thermals)  Followed it for a mile before losing sight.
• That using the point of a drafting compass to scrape Mercury Fulminate from the inside of .22 caliber casings can cause it to explode.  (Finesse & Chemical Stability)
• That using pie plate tin foil holds up much better than regular tinfoil when you make match head rockets.  (Heat & Metal Melting Points)
• That you should always work in small batches when using pliers to remove the phosphorus from a wooden match head.  (Chain Reactions & Flash Points) My neighbor learned that one the hard way and lost his eyebrows, at least for a while.



• That match heads work ok for the material in a pipe bomb, but FFFG Black Powder is much better.  (Confinement of Explosive Chemicals and The Stresses they cause to certain metals)  Note: Now being referred to as an I.E.D. (Improvised Explosive Device), and your parents don’t like it so much if you get caught making these things.
• That even a ½” diameter X 6” pipe bomb can completely remove a mailbox from its post and send it 10 feet in the air.  (Extreme Pressures in Confined Areas & Aerodynamics of a Mail Box)  I discourage this kind of activity since it is a federal offense.  Come to think of it, it probably was back in the 50s as well.
• That levies make good bunkers from flying metal as they whistle by over your head.  (Irregular Shapes of Metal and the Sounds they make at High Speed & Absorption Characteristics of soft dirt)  This is where I learned to “Duck & Cover” and you though it was from those Nuclear Attack Drills in the 50s.
• That a REAL M80 (3g +) weighted down and tossed in the irrigation canal can make fish swim upside down for a while and easy to catch. (Effects of Shock Waves in Water) Helped me understand Depth Charges and such.  BTW, M80s were outlawed in the United States by modifications to the Child Protection Act in 1966.  Something about kids losing hearing, fingers and hands.  How’s a kid suppose to learn Physic these days.  Go figure.

There actually were many more lessons in Physics that my friends and I experienced and many of these “experiments” were perfected with fine-tuning, repetition and diligence.

I suppose that today some of this stuff would hit National News, but at the time it was just boys and Practical Physics lessons self-taught.  Things you will never learn sitting in front of a monitor playing video games.

Have a “Safe & Sane” 4^th of July and I will remember some that were… let’s say… not quite so sane.

Love, Dad

Credits:

Fruit Box Scooter Photos from Droolicous

Green Walnuts photo came from here

Gilbert Chemistry Set Photo from Joe Mabel

Pipe Bomb Photo from here

M80 Photo from here

Good Morning,

It was January 31, 2009 when Michael, after not receiving a letter for a while and concerned that I was putting a hold on them or running out of things to write about, sent me a list of questions.  The purpose was to stimulate some ideas and in the process provide fodder for more letters, hopefully leaving something of my perspective for his grandkids.

I have mentioned it before in past letters that there are always questions left unanswered, when our parents have passed.  Some come minutes, even seconds after they are gone, while others can take years to surface.  Having personally experienced this in my own life, I am now convinced that it is impossible to think of everything, for as we mature our perspectives change and along with them the understanding of things around us.  We just don’t know, what we don’t know and therefore the questions don’t exist until that golden moment of enlightenment.  That “Ah Ha” moment and things become lucid.

Anyway, the list consisted of thirteen questions, none of them easy I might add, so with this letter, I will attempt to answer the first one on the list.  “How has technology changed in your lifetime?”  Are you kidding… in 65 years… there have been changes.

• Well, I was born in September of 1945 and World War II was rapidly coming to an end.  Germany had surrendered and was being carved up like a Black Forest Ham.  In August, Enola Gay had delivered “Little Boy” and Bockscar “Fat Man” respectivly with devastating affects on Hiroshima and Nagasaki Japan.  Now the term “Mushroom Cloud” would no longer just refer to smoking Psilocybin (Magic Mushrooms) and the world as we knew it would never be the same, since the atom also split our innocence.  I guess you could say I was born into the “Atomic Age”.  I then had to learn to “Duck and Cover” when in grade school, because Russia now had the “Bomb”.  The drill/instructions were such that as soon as we saw the “blinding” flash, we were to find cover (while blind I guess) and assume the fetal position.  I had bad dreams about that flash, as only a kid’s imagination can conjure.  Well that and giant ants, but that is for another story.  In later years and being a bit less naive, I learned that the whole exercise would have been just as effective as just puting my head between my legs and kissing my ass goodbye.  Of course butter, red meat and smoking were good for you too.
• My birth was before television’s “second birth” (being stalled by WWII) and radio was still “King of the Airwaves”.  We got our first black and white television in about 1953 when I was seven.  It was a 15” Philco (Philadelphia Storage Battery Company) and the cabinet was about the size of a small washing machine today.  Actually it looked kind of like a “front loader” with a wood cabinet and a very small door.  Yes and my mom kept telling me not to sit too close.  It was 15” of magical technology and Bridgett Bardot was on the Ed Sullivan Show, I didn’t want to miss a thing as my hormones demanded it.  French women were sooo sexy.  I was not then or now interested in her political or social views, as my interests were much more purient at the time.  I’m sure the radiation from that set didn’t affect me a bit bit bit.
• As a kid in the 50s, I went to Saturday Matinees with my friends for a quarter.  That was about the only way you would see a movie in color.  Color TV didn’t really come out much until the late 50s early 60s and then I would go to the neighbors to watch Bonanza on NBC.
• When I was born, medical x-rays were still in their infancy and a contributing reason why my sister had problems at birth.  Pelvic x-rays were not common at the time.  Mom was not capable of having a normal birth easily, which the x-ray would have shown.  My mom and I were 10 days in hospital after she had a C-section required for my extraction.  At my chunky 10 pounds, what woman wouldn’t want a C-section?  Unless of course you needed that extra garage.  The doctor bill…$150 and the hospital bill…$150 for the whole thing.  That’s $300 out the door.  (BTW the original bill is still in my baby book)  That’s a far cry from the $60,000 for my 4 days in hospital last year.
• I remember you could go into a local Shoe Store and with a heavily promoted device called a Shoe Fitting Fluoroscpe, see your foot inside of a shoe to see how it fit.  Your foot skeleton and shoe all right there in an eerie green glow.  Amazing stuff back then.  I guess we are lucky we still have feet since they were quietly taken off of the market and out of the stores when it was realized just how dangerous they really were.  Rad!  Or should I say LOTS of RADS! Hey, who needs a nightlight when your feet glow?
• The first “computer”, the Electronic Numerical Integrator Analyzer and Computer (ENIAC) was fired up in November 1945.  A name I’m sure that helped pave the way for many more acronyms.  The whole thing took up 1,800 square feet.  That is bigger than our whole house!  Not quite what you would call a portable.  It was 1955 before it was finally shut down.  The same year Bill Gates was born and Albert Einstein died.  Curious…
• I had personal music in the 50s and I carried them around in an 8” X 8” box to my friend’s house so we could play them on the phonograph.  The records were called 45s because they turned at 45 RPM.  They cost a buck and for that you got two songs.  The one you bought the record for and the other was a “B” side that usually stayed pristine.  Of course with “Elvis” there were no “B” sides.  We actually danced to the music, while our parents thought we were loosing it.  I suppose to them, we were… not much different from today.  It was the birth of “Rock n Roll” and we were at the beginning of it all.  Looking back, those times seem more special now than when we were living them.  I suppose that is true of a lot of things in life. 
• When I was 12, I got up at 2AM to watch “Sputnik” go over.  Russia (USSR) had beaten us into space with the first orbiting satellite.  I remember the early days of our Space Program were difficult with failure after failure.  I also remember the elation of our first successful launch for the USA, but Sputnik had gotten the cigar.  Second place sucked.  Now there are hundreds of satellites that are operational and thousands of others that have died out and become space debris orbiting the earth.  I suppose the space program has been and contributed to the most impactive technological changes in my life.
• As a kid, the robots were from outer space and they were generally malevolent.  There have been a lot of changes to the technology since then, like replacing autoworkers, doing jobs that could get us killed and/or a company sued.  It has been fascinating to watch the evolution.  I guess I can say robots evolve.

I suppose to sum it up and keep this from going on too long, just take the things I started with here, think of the evolution behind each and you will start to see what I have seen, albiet only in your mind’s eye at least.  It has been nothing short of amazing and with each passing day, I hear of new things that many couldn’t have imagined around the time I was born.

I love new technology and embrace it.

Love, Dad

Good Morning,

Yesterday while rummaging through some stuff in the garage I came across a box that contained the Pinewood Derby cars from when Michael was in Cub Scouts.  I don’t get rid of much as you know, so there exist pieces of the past just about everywhere you choose to dig and these were no exception.

As a parent you can get swept up in the activities.  Actually, that is the way it is supposed to work with scouting.  The year was about 1988, Michael then 9 had to build his car for the race and it was just too good of an opportunity/excuse not to jump in and make my own.  The “Pinewood Derby Kit” consisted of a block of wood, axels (nails) and wheels.  The rest was up to the scout, which allowed for creativity and a sense of accomplishment.  As a parent it was difficult not to do too much of the project (a trap some fathers fall into) and let Michael keep possession.  My original Pinewood Derby car had long since disappeared in the wake of growing up and well, you just can’t keep everything no matter how hard you try.  At the time Jon Jr., then 18, was living with and also got wrapped up in the adventure.  We had a basement workshop at the time and we all got busy making our cars.  Michael’s turned out to be a somewhat typical racecar with the number 78 (his birth year) while Jon Jr. was into Ranchero’s and I took the more extreme route with a natural wood body.  Jon Jr. and I couldn’t race for the trophy anyway as only the scouts could do that, but it was a chance for us to “show our stuff” and support Michael in the process.

Michael took first place in the race the year before with #24, so enthusiasm was high for a repeat.

We did a few little extras like turning the wheels and axels on a jeweler’s lathe to true them up.  Using an electronic scale to get the weight just right and then making sure the paint jobs looked the part.  It was fun doing the project with the boys.  Good times and a little competition as well which kept it interesting.

We helped one of the other scouts, Tony with his car.  As I remember his dad was away and couldn’t participate in the build.  Tony’s car got the same treatment as ours, so not to show favoritism.  Knowing his background, it may have been the first time someone actually helped him with something like that.

Somehow in the enthusiasm of the moment of planning this whole thing I volunteered to make the racetrack.  That turned out to be a much bigger project than the car.  I wonder sometimes how I get myself into such things.  Here is a picture of a track, but not the one I built.  There must be a photo somewhere, yep somewhere in the “stuff”

Race day came and the cars ran well.  I don’t recall all of the results, but as luck would have it Tony’s car won and he went home with the trophy.  Not sure that went down so good with Michael at the time, but it was a good lesson in sharing and made it a great day for Tony.

If you are going to share your talents and methods with a competitor, when they win you do as well.  And while it may not have been the competition, it is most certainly the integrity.

Love, Dad

Good Morning,

Hallmark commercials tend to pick up just before Mother’s Day and there is no wonder since it is the third largest card-selling holiday in the country.  While they all seem to audaciously pluck at the heartstrings in some little way…there becomes that little lump in the throat…or the weird little thing that spontaniously happens kind of like a hiccup, but not really, that jumps up when you are caught in the moment.  I suppose it isn’t very manly to admit it, but then hey, I’m happy to have a soft side.  Maybe I can start a movement and call it M.E.S.S. (Men Extressing Soft Side)

 Anyway, there was one of these Hallmark Commercials that reminded me of my own mother’s tendency to save greeting cards. My mom had a tendency to save all greeting cards almost as if the wish they conveyed would be lost or the sender surrupticiously offended, if she discarded them.  So somewhere buried deeply in the plethora of boxes and totes in our garage there must be a card I sent my mom on Mother’s Day.  Although whether or not she saved something that I made in school for the occasion is questionable.  I’m pretty sure I did, but it may take some digging to find. 

 Where am I going with this?  Well yesterday, quite by chance we came across a Mother’s Day placemat that Michael had made for his mom in school.  The timing just seemed perfect to find this just before the appointed day and to have Jeanie there when we did. 

 The year printed on the placemat was 1985, twenty-five years ago, which would have made Michael 6 and in the First Grade.  It was in a tote full of  other items from the past.  Spontaniously saved personal mementos from the formative years and milestones that go into making up a life.  They are the times never to be seen again as your children grow into an adult and give up “Childish Things”.  Maybe parents keep these kinds of things as a reminder of their own youth, or maybe as anchors to feelings cherished.  Whatever the reason they were saved, eventually they will have to be passed on and their future determined by the beneficiary at the time.

 I have so few things from my grandparents that have managed to survive this inevitable purging process.  I suppose it is pretty normal, as we have to shed the debris of the past to make room for the present.  For the things in the tote, we will leave that choice up to the generations to follow so that the tote continues to hold these treasures of our life. 

 Remember, your children may one day cherish these things as we do, so do not be too hasty to get rid of all of them. 

 Love, Dad

Good Morning,

 I have always enjoyed flying a kite.  There is just something about watching it soar high in the sky that creates in me a feeling of freedom.  It can be mesmerizing as it drifts to and fro yielding to the whims of the wind, while I’m feeling the gentle tug of the line confirming our connection.  Whimsically, there is the probable impossibility that the right gust of wind may take it and me along with it, into that world when kites go when they disappear into the sky.  I did say probable impossible didn’t I?

 The first kites that I flew as a kid were the ones I would buy for 10 cents at the local hardware store.  They were usually “diamond” shaped, Hi-Fliers and made with thin paper and two wooded sticks to form a cross.  It was a good thing they were only a dime, because they could easily be “eaten” by trees.  Think of Charlie Brown here.  Not enough tail, usually made from a couple of rags torn in strips, could cause the kite to suddenly head toward the ground nose first at an accelerated speed with no chance of recovery. Horrifying.  If you were lucky no sticks were broken and Scotch Tape (the real stuff) would fix the torn paper.   It was critical to get the tail length right if you had any hope of keeping one of these beauties in the air.  Too much tail and the kite would be too heavy.  Too little and it would loop and dive and with only one string you could only watch it’s demise. 

 Salvaged sticks, a precious commodity from kites that had met their untimely demise could be reused to construct a new kite made with newspaper.  I know 10 cents doesn’t sound like much now, but in the early 1950s minimum wage was only $0.75 an hour and my allowance was 50 cents a week if I mowed the lawn.  A kite was an investment.  Oh yea and there was that ball of string as well, another 10 cents a roll.

 Anyway, repairing enough of those diamond kites eventually gave me the confidence to make my own.  Having an affinity for the unusual, the “Box” kite really appealed to me.  They were hard to control, but they really looked cool in the air.  I was 18 before I discovered the FMK (French Military Kite) AKA (Conyne) and fell in love with it.  It had everything I wanted in a kite, stability, great pull and a really cool look.  Not available in local stores, I had to build my own, but that was the fun and pride of accomplishment plus seeing a project come to fruition.  Patented by an American, Silas Conyne in 1902, it was used by the French Military to lift observers high in the sky during WWI.  Kind of gives a new meaning to “go fly a kite” yea right and get shot at…humm.

 Today, I went to the hobby shop and picked up four basswood sticks, colored tissue paper, polyester twine and rubber glue.  With a little luck, I will have a FMK of my own making in the air soon and with favorable wind, enjoy if only vicariously the sensation of flight once again.

 “Go fly a kite” I will!

 Love, Dad     

 Great link to Hi-Flier History

Good Morning,

Last weekend I watched a rather interesting discussion unfold regarding generational profiling on tHRyving.com.   The main argument by the “Right” was that such did not exist and each person is unique and should not be unceremoniously crammed into a particular generational classification while the “Left” proposes that, yes we are all different, but… certain personality tendencies are shaped during our formative years, 10 to 18 and the significant events of the times.  We then share these similarities with our cohorts of that time.  Therein is the difference and what creates the generational gap.  Now obviously, there will be individuals that span these significant times in our history and are influenced by both.  There will always be others who will be outside of the sociological norms of any generation.  I have known a few.

So, what I am referring to is the “mainstream group”, the cohort group that makes up the most numbers common to the personal tendencies influenced by events of that generation.  I am a “Baby-Boomer” even though I was born right at the end of WWII and just before the 1946 demark in which most Baby-Boomers are classified.   We are sometimes referred to as “The Pig in the Python” as we moved through society.  Read Wendy Tandons comments on the blog about this.

I was 10 in 1955 when Rock ‘n’ Roll first started to emerge as a new music form. The golden years are considered 1954 – 1963.  Right in the middle of my “cohort years”.  Did that influence my taste in music? Duh!  Of course it did and still does.  I still enjoy simple lyrics and a heavy beat, but at the same time, I have also taken in other forms of music, even alternative, that has come along, excluding “Rap” of course, which I could never get my arms around.  For some reason “Rap” and “Rape” sound a lot alike to me.  It must be the pure vulgar ness and shock factor trying to be conveyed in the lyrics that turn me off.  No class, but that’s my opinion.  Maybe that is the purpose after all… to turn us Baby-Boomers off to this sort of sound.  Well they succeeded with me.  I just have a difficult time calling it music.

During my cohort years I was a Boy Scout.  Still popular in those days, before the saying “Be Square” took on a different meaning.  Yes, it was the Boy Scout Law that I memorized and remember to this day.  A scout is: “Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean and Reverent.  All twelve of them at the same time and still trying to be a “normal” teenager.  Do you think that changed me?  The other one was the Boy Scout Motto: “Be Prepared”.  Well I’m still referred to as “such a Boy Scout” by those who know me.  It could be because I carry a knife, flashlight, lip balm, painkillers, breath mints, flossing brushes, jump drive and screwdriver with me wherever I go.  All that without a “Murse”.  I still tend to look for these twelve traits in other people and unfortunately have a tendency to judge them at times when I do not find them.  I do believe that people in general will trust a Boy Scout before most others.  Could this be part of what makes up the “Baby-Boomer” moniker?

I was mid-teens when the Vietnam War started up and when just out of high school faced the possibly of being drafted into the service because of it.  Many of my high school friends were and some came back in pieces and boxes, while others never did.  Did this war shape my trust in the war decisions that our government officials make?  Yep and not in a good way.  Do I still mistrust the government in general, yep I do and the older I get the more cynical I become.  Those twelve laws of the Boy Scouts rarely seem to exist anymore with our elected officials.

I was 15 when John F. Kennedy was elected to the Office of Presidency of the United States of America.  He held the presidency amidst much turmoil about him being Catholic, a questionable war in Vietnam, Soviet missiles in Cuba, segregation in our schools and human rights (MLK) were just some of the issues.  These issues affected us all in one-way or another, as they became part of our day-to-day.  I was 18 when John F. Kennedy was killed by an assassin’s bullet.  As I held Diana that day in November, we cried together for the loss to our country and I suppose a bit more of our innocence.  Did those events shape the way I look at things as a Baby-Boomer?  Yep.

While I was still 18, I joined NCR (National Cash Register) as a technician.  It was white shirt, tie and purple fingers from changing ink on National Cash Registers for most of 16 years.  It was a time when you joined a company as a career and not as a stepping stone to the next job a year or two later.  You had really good health insurance, a pension once vested, stock options, life insurance, great technical education and the assurance that if you kept your end of the bargain, you could retire with them.  Part of that was being to work “on time”.  You could be fired and loose your career if late too many times.  It was part of a “work ethic” of the times and well before “telecommuting”.  My work ethic was shaped by these norms, and they are still with me today.

I am a ‘Baby Boomer” and I am proud of it.  I do not mind the classification and I wear it proudly just like I did my Merit Badges in Boy Scouting.  I lived through that eight years with my “cohorts” and those years shaped many of my opinions and perspectives that I still embrace today.

I cannot speak for the “Xs” and “Ys”, but I believe I can for the “B-Bs”.  Are there generational gaps?  I firmly believe that there are, for I see it in my children, I see it in my grandchildren and I see it in my employees.  It is not a bad thing, it “just is”.  For the dissenting “Ys” out there… I say, “Deal With It” for the “Zs” are just around the corner baby and then you will see what I’m talking about.

B-Bs forever!  Or at least for the next 14 years.

Love, Dad

Citations:

Cartoon Image of Baby Boomers: New York Times Cartoon

Photo of JFK: Spartacus Educational

Photo of Citizenship Merit Badge: Boys Scouts of America