Ah, the Summer of Love. I remember it
it well. That's when my babysitter would bring her boyfriend over,
listen to some records, smoke some funny cigarettes, tell me it was
bedtime, and then make funny noises. Well, maybe I don't remember it
all that well.
But I'm still considered a “Boomer”
. To which I say “Horseshit”. The Evil Lady of Evil Sarah Hoyt
(Evil be upon her)wrote about this conundrum a few months ago.
I'm Generation ?. Missed the free love
and nekkid dancing in the mud at Woodstock. You know what? All the
folks that did that are well into Social Security now, but if you
watch TV all the VietNam vets are portrayed as late 30s to early 50s.
So very wrong.
Wanna see a vet from 'Nam? John
McCain, that old fart. John Ketchup Kerry, that old fraud.
Those are the vets, and that's their
age. There is a terrible nostalgia working here. A longing for a
period when they thought they made a difference, but didn't. Lil'
Bobby Dylan wrote “Forever Young” for his kid, not for you.
(Have you seen a recent pic of him?) Take your polished aluminum
Jerry Jeff Walkers outside. Fight amongst yourselves in the alley,
and wait for the VA to pick you up.
The bartender has better things to do
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