Happiness Is A Beef Rib Bone

Roxie seemed pretty pleased with the gift I bought at the grocery store this morning.
She didn’t mind that it was sprinkling or cold outside.
And Tonto got one of his own as well.

Advertisements

(Insert Tasteless Sylvia Plath Joke)

February 1942, KU Graduate

I’ll let you make up your own title on this one. Plath was the clinically depressed poet who stuck her head in an oven and died of carbon monoxide fumes, but had the good sense and forethought to seal up the walls, so that her nearby children should not perish in their rooms. Nice.

Still not a good case for electric, though.

Pinterest

This is such a fun scene, with three generations of folks, prepping dinner. The apron matches the curtains. Everyone is thin, skirted, and cheery. What more could you want? Other than a gas range.

Sadie Hawkins Glory

1943 Recall

I have enough 1940s yearbooks to confirm that Sadie Hawkins dances, based on the then-popular L’il Abner strip, were a HUGE DEAL. Nowadays, not so much. In fact, my son’s high school had one scheduled earlier this month, and it was cancelled due to low ticket sales. Eight tickets, to be exact. And keep in mind, all the other dances have been packed.

What does that say about today’s youth? Aren’t women enlightened enough to ask boys to the dance? That’s the whole point of it. Or is it an outdated concept altogether, since boys now ask boys and girls ask girls? Every high school around here has its share of transgender kids who were named Katie in 8th grade and now go by Collin. Or perhaps teens just don’t like donning hillbilly garb–although I think they nixed that part long ago. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen anyone in overalls in a few decades.

In any event, the times sure have changed.

Living In The Present

Keeping up with teenspeak is hard. It’s enough that technology is ever changing, and staying abreast of all the texting acronyms can be exhausting. As soon as you graduate high school, you become more and more out of touch with popular culture. Adulting comes with new responsibilities, and there is no time (or context) to stay on top of new trending terms. Even if you DO learn juvy jargon, you sound foolish saying, “Whatevs” or yelling “Yeet!” these days. But you do it anyway, if you are a parent or a teacher, to make the children uncomfortable, and to show them that you have a thin, however out of context, grasp on NOW.

But you do not. You cannot. There’s too much to stay on top of. For example, you may be aware that Adidas are the cool shoes and that only white soles are acceptable, but you (in your adultness) need arch support and crosstrainers, so you wear Dad shoes. “Dad shoes” are a thing. Google it. Teens love to dis Dad shoes. They are the chunky peanut butter to the creamy, sleek, current styles. Teens do not wear New Balance. You may even think you are cool and say, “Damn, Daniel” at shoes, but that is so 2000 and late, which in itself is an antiquated reference and makes me #tired. PS, hashtags are so over. If you don’t know what any of this means, your kids are probably grown. These are Dad shoes, and a teen would not be caught dead in them.

Parent a teen is exhausting in itself, but trying to keep up with their music is beyond demanding. Isn’t it enough that I watched Post Malone on the Elvis special last week? (Yep, he’s the rapper with the face tats.) Did y’all catch that last week? It honored the 50 year anniversary of Elvis’s ’68 Comeback Special. FIFTY YEARS. You know, the one where he wore all black leather. I watched it, staying open-minded and seeing Post pic and play in his yellow suit, which reminded me of Nudie suits of yore. And son of a gun, if he wasn’t pretty good. But it’s hard to like new music.

All this to say, I learned a new thing today (realizing that most whippersnappers  already know this and are horrified that I just learned it), but I’m sharing it with those other out-of-touchers, as I would hope you would Golden Rule me and keep me abreast of the things.

Yes, I was today years old (that’s another thing they say) when I learned TL;DR (too long; didn’t read). It’s a comment people make on a long-winded post, which is IRONIC because this post is already so long! It’s the very essence of TL;DR. You should call me Post MaLONG. See how lame that sounds? That’s because old people puns are cringey. I know because my teen tells me every day. TL;DR even has its own wikipedia on Twitter.

So that’s it for today, peeps. Go out into the interwebs and use your new abbreviation. TTYL.

 

*And don’t you dare comment TL;DR! 😉