Damned Amateurs – AKA Snowflake Meltdown

OKAY, BOOMER

I recently encountered an MSN article titled, “40 Things That Baby Boomers Think Are Still Cool – But Aren’t.”  It was an amusing little nothing of an article, good only for hanging advertising links onto – as fluffy as RuPaul’s feather boa.

It was apparently composed by some Millennial Snowflake – probably to the sound of great applause.  I thought that only achy, arthritis-afflicted, grumpy old curmudgeons like me would compose such a compilation of complaints.  I figured that the author of this would be too busy, polishing his brand-new, red BMW.  Maybe MSN threw in a gold star for his sticker album, and a participation medal.

Snowflake

Snowflake: Slang A person who is considered to be overly sensitive or too easily offended, especially as a result of believing himself or herself to be unique or special – with the accent on flake.

I don’t know if the author was serious, or if this was just an exercise in being a published author.  There were some things that he ranted about that even I, as an old Boomer, would object to, while others made me think that, even if it were raining gold coins, he’d complain about dents on that BMW.

The list was eclectic and varied.  Among others, he hit on visors, shag carpet, Yahoo, Jell-O salads, fossil fuels, fuzzy toilet seat covers, bar soap, meat loaf, encyclopedias, and malls.

I don’t know what his objection to visors was.  I don’t like wearing hats, but when I was younger, and my hair was black and absorbed solar energy and heat, I wore them to keep my brain from boiling.  (So, that’s what happened!)  Now that it’s as white as the driven snow, all I need is something to protect my eyes.  That’s why God invented Ray-Bans.

I always thought that shag carpeting was a bad idea, and didn’t sign up for Yahoo.  Instead I waited till Google was available for free.  I rather like Jell-O salads – both vegetable, and fruit.  I never miss a chance to scoop some up, the few times we hit a restaurant with a buffet.  It was a cheap food that the wife’s family of nine kids had to endure, so she won’t make any.  I’ll eat it, but I won’t make it.  Like tossed salad, I feel that the enjoyment-to-labor ratio is too low.

I think that ‘fossil fuels’ was just tossed in for virtue signaling.  I don’t know any Boomer who thinks that they’re “cool”, but, until some smart-ass Snowflake comes up with an affordable, reliable alternative…. they’re indispensable.

Fuzzy toilet-seat covers, aside from being a germ-sponge, are a vicious trick, invented by Women’s Lib.  They turn a two-handed job into a three-handed one.  When a guy tries to do what he needs to do, he has to open the front of his pants with one hand, and withdraw (hopefully) a handful with the other.

Fuzzy seat covers placed the center of balance of the lid forward, so that they would not stay up on their own.  There was a lot of shuffling around to the side, and holding the lid up with a knee.  The ones where the lid stayed up for a few seconds, and then came crashing down in mid-stream were the most dangerous.  I almost didn’t have to pay for a vasectomy.

Ah, Millennial instant gratification!  Since I’m not obsessed with Zumba, or Hatha Yoga, I have time to work up a lather with a bar of soap.  I purchased a box of 12, Chinese, musk-scented bars at the Farmers’ Market.  Most of them are secreted in various dresser drawers, helping to make my clothes smell like Not-Me.

I don’t know what the author had against meat-loaf – except that it wasn’t a kale smoothie.  It’s comfort food, and us old fogies need all the comfort that we can get.  The article served to remind me that we had not had meat-loaf in over a month, so I had it on the menu by the end of the week.

The article came on 40 pages that had to be clicked to.  Each one came with a photograph, ‘cuz our old Boomer eyesight ain’t the best anymore, don’tcha know?  Aside from the general, dismissive, know-it-all premise, the two things that irritated me the most were the photos of ‘encyclopedias,’ and ‘malls’

Encyclopedias

I welcomed the electronic advent of Wikipedia.  Google and Bing are my friends.  Paper and ink encyclopedias are archaic anachronisms – antiques, and collectors’ items.  The Internet knows everything – if you can sift out the fake news.  The photo provided for that page seemed to be of a library Rare-Book shelf.  They’re old, and they are hard-cover…. but not one of them is an Encyclopedia.  Bing images provided me with pictures of lots, as I composed this post, including the first, and possibly the best – Encyclopedia Britannica.

Polish Reception

Malls have had their day.  All hail Amazon and E-Bay!  Etail is the wave of the future.  The only thing that malls are good for are the food courts, and the girl-watching – and the air conditioning means that they are wearing far too much clothing.  Someone didn’t work (or think) too hard with these photos.

Since the article is in English and apparently intended for the American – or perhaps Canadian – market, it would seem to be a good idea to get a picture of an English-speaking mall.  Even a cursory examination of the above photo shows that it is of a Polish one.  Recepcja = reception.

I think I pulled a groin muscle, ranting about some young whipper-snapper ranting about old nothings.  I’m gonna rest up for a couple of days.  See you later.  😀

WOW #54

Boustrophedon

Here’s another in a long line of words that you’ll never use in polite company – or in any company, I would imagine.

BOUSTROPHÉDON

Languages that are written in the Greek, Cyrillic, or Latin alphabets, are written from left to right. It only makes sense. 90% of people are right-handed, and the right arm moves away from what is being written. Asian languages like Chinese and Japanese are written from the top down, vertically. At least they’re getting out of their own way.

Forgive me for being un-PC, but languages like Hebrew and Arabic are just stupid. Both cultures – Arabs worse than Jews – make a big deal about being left-handed. Somehow it’s evil, allied to Shaitan, The Devil. Yet these languages are written from right to left. It’s only in the last 75 years that technology has partly rescued them, with instant-drying ballpoint ink, and word processors. Before that, writers’ arms covered what had just been written, smudging or smearing the pen or quill ink.

Cuneiform

Boustrophedon is a Greek name for some of the much earlier Sumerian and Akkadian cuneiform type of ‘writing.’   This was just wedge-shaped marks, pushed into soft clay tablets. Back and forth – to and fro. Since there was no ink to smudge, a line would be entered from left to right. Then the writer would just drop down a line, and enter the next one from right to left.

The word originally just referred to that form of writing, but the meaning, in Greek, is “oxen turning.” Nowadays, the very few times that it is used, (always by a licensed professional) it can refer to things like the back-and-forth pattern of tweed, or the appearance of an agricultural field which has been plowed – fortunately, with tractors, not oxen – back and forth, up and down, leaving a visual difference between alternating rows or strips.

Flash Fiction #171

Adam and Eve

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE

What kind of tree did you say that one is??  A fig tree??  Nah, that can’t be right.  A fig tree should have leaves as big as palm fronds.

Well, in the Bible, it says that Adam and Eve were naked and ashamed, so they made clothing from fig leaves, and covered themselves.

I don’t know how well…. endowed Adam was, but those leaves wouldn’t cover a beauty spot.  Make concealing clothing from those tiny leaves?  I don’t really think so.  They’re more like the sequins on a high school girl’s prom dress and they’d cover just about as much.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story

Friday Fictioneers

A To Z Challenge – S

april-challenge

UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS

letter-s

I want to discuss my ancestors, but the above title is a lie. Upstairs/Downstairs was a British TV series dealing with the various goings-on of the upper-crust, upper-floor rich folk in a mansion, and the serving class below them, both physically and socially, who provided their every whim and wish.

My forebears didn’t live in no stinkin’ mansion, making tea, and cucumber sandwiches for effete dilettantes.   My folks have been industrious, productive people for hundreds of years.  They were ‘blue-collar’ long before blue collars existed.  A more accurate title might be Manor-House/Mill-house – and never the twain shall meet.

My father’s name (and mine) was Smith.  His progenitors originally were productive German artisans named Schmied.  Over many years, the name changed to Schmidt, and was carried to the newly-born United States of America by a Hessian mercenary, paid by the British.  After another hundred years, it got Anglicized to Smith.

Smith is a proud name, and a proud profession. It originally meant, one who produces, makes or manufactures something. Then the language changed so that it meant, a worker in metal.  Finally, the meaning narrowed to just the blacksmith, who pounds hot iron and steel.

I like to think of myself as a wordsmith.  I received blacksmith training in my high school shop class.  (Yes, I lived that far out in the sticks, and back in the mists of time.)  Blacksmith is making a comeback, both through the custom knife and sword makers, and artisans who supply millennial hipsters with hand-made gate latches, coat-racks, porch rails and coffee tables.

My mother’s side of the family supplied the name Stewart.  This is a Scottish name from the English word steward, meaning, one who takes take of something.  The spelling of this name also slipped a bit, to Stuart, and a branch of the clan became the Royal Stuarts, ruling, and ‘taking care of’, Scotland.

Before he emigrated from Glasgow to Canada, my maternal grandfather became the ‘Keeper of the Tartans’ at the fabric mill where he worked. He was the steward of the patterns of the plaids which clothed a good portion of the country.

letter-s-super

All in all, I think maybe this is the S that I should have chosen for this post.  I’m impressed with my family history.  How about you?  😎

ICEBREAKER

ice

Recently, it seems that there’s a lot of people, who want to know a lot, about a lot of other people. A while ago, I published a post in two parts – 31 Facts In 31 Days.  Scarcely had I put it up, than I found another, apparently compiled by the neighborhood pervert voyeur.  It contained questions like, “What do you wear to bed?” There’s not enough vodka or trained psychiatrists in the world, for me to get into that.

This one is called Icebreaker, and can also be used at large meetings and seminars where people don’t know each other. Although, by the time you fill yours out, and read everybody else’s, I don’t know how much time would be left to actually get anything productive done.  I guess that’s what big meetings are like anyway.  It’s probably better than Angry Birds, Candy Crush, or Words With Friends.

This old Iceberg broke off the parent glacier about five years ago. It has been drifting down and blocking the blog-lanes ever since – a publishing hazard to sanity and good taste.  I thought in that time that I had pretty much revealed all, perhaps not though.  If you have the guts and the stamina, read on MacDuff.

Are you named after someone?
My paternal grandfather was Howard. My father was Cyril Howard.  There was a whiny kid in my town who everyone called ‘Howie’, and I grew to hate the name, so I never admit that my second name is Howard.
When is the last time you cried?

Guys cry??  Okay, okay – the last time I heard a real feel-good, beat-the-odds story, my eyes leaked – a little.
Do you like your handwriting?
Dear Lord no! With my tremor, my writing looks like a chicken on meth walked across an ink pad.
What is your favorite lunch meat?

Spicy Tokay or Mexican, salami
How many kids do you have?
Three, one of each….no, wait, just daughter, LadyRyl, and son Shimoniac.
If you were another person, would you be friends with you?
I’d have to be a member of a select group, because of my take-no-prisoners attitude and opinions, but, yes!
Do you use sarcasm?
Are you F**king kidding??  Hell yes!
Do you still have your tonsils?
No. Back when it was all the rage (1950), a surgeon cut my throat.
Would you bungee jump?
I have to take care of an increasingly fragile old body, but I would say yes – maybe till I got to the edge.  I’d like to skydive, into my bucket list.
What is your favorite cereal?
Spoon Sized Shredded Wheat, with strawberries
Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
I wear (cowboy) boots – no laces. When I don’t, I do.
Do you think you are strong? Physically?  More so than most men my age.  Mentally?  Emotionally?  Probably the same answer
What is your favorite ice cream?
In a bowl, or cone – Black Cherry.  With cake or pie – French Vanilla
What is the first thing you notice about people?
Often, how they inter-react with others, including me
Red or pink? I am seldom understated.  Intense blue, purple or green.  If I must – red.  It makes a statement.
What is the least favorite thing you like about yourself?
My increasingly failing memory, thank (insert your favorite deity) for search engines
What color pants and shoes are you wearing right now?
In the privacy of my own computer room??  You should be reading this with your eyes closed.  Dark blue track shorts and slippers.
What was the last thing you ate?
A small slab of white cake with some 10% cream and diced peaches
What are you listening to right now?
The sounds of both my allergic cat, and dog, snoring, as they lie guarding me
If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Plaid?  Probably Royal Blue
What are your favorite smells?
Oh, so many….wood smoke, rustling dry leaves, frying bacon
Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone?

Some Paki named ‘Kevin’, who wanted to clean my ducts.  I told him to….
Favorite sport to watch?
Pretty much stopped watching TV.  Almost watch no sports.  Maybe American Pro Football
Real hair color?
I’d like to say black, but that was then, and this, is now mostly white.
Eye color?
Brown.
Do you wear contacts?

It’s all the wife can do to get me to wear my glasses.  Frightened as a child by the Three Stooges, I don’t poke my own finger in my eyes.
Favorite food to eat?
Yes please.  Probably tonight’s supper – potato pancakes
Scary movies or happy endings?
Some big explosions, car chases, gun fights, a little Punch and Judo, people hanging off tall buildings – that can be scary.  Then the bad guys are defeated, and it’s all a happy ending.
Last movie you watched?
Star Trek Into Darkness….see above
What color shirt are you wearing?
Maker claims it’s ‘Dusty Blue’.  I say it’s Steel Blue (greyish-blue), one of my more subdued shades.
Summer or winter?
Autumn!  If I must choose….Summer.  I don’t have to shovel rain.
Hugs or kisses?
Depends on the time, place and person….and if anybody’s watching
What book are you reading?
John Brunner – Wrong End of Time, Tom Clancy (actually, Mark Greaney) – Support And Defend, James Rollins – Devil Colony
What is on your mousepad?
Cat hair
What is the last TV program you watched?
Bones
What is the best sound?
One or more of my cats purring, preferably in my lap
Rolling Stones or The Beatles?
Different strokes for different folks – a bit, but not too much, of both, liberally mixed with many others.
What is the farthest you have traveled?
Since all trips have to be by car, I drove to Key West, Florida – 2765 Km = 1730 mi.
Do you have a special talent?
Yes!
Where were you born?
In the front bedroom of the family home, in Southampton, Ontario, Canada.