Raising six kids, it was inevitable that I would come face-to-face with a generational trend I couldn't accept. Looking at my adorable sleeping toddlers, it was hard to think that one day some social movements would put us on opposite sides. But it happened.
Armstrong walked on the moon, and we invented the personal computer. Body organs are transplanted like perennials. But when will we discover what happens to socks in the washer?
For every one bad news, the bakery is out of sourdough bread, we need three good news, they have rye, wheat, and multigrain bread.
Fantasies offer an insight into who we are. No more looking at inkblots to discover what makes us tick. When I took the Rorschach online, the ten images all looked like a uterus or a woman's profile with pursed lips. I'm not interested to learn what it means.
I didn't see eye-to-eye on every issue with every friend. That was normal. I recall arguing over cocktails about maximum building heights, where I insisted that mountain and ocean views should be left unobstructed for all people to enjoy. My friend believed it belonged to those who could pay for the beach houses and high rise apartments. A group of friends might not have agreed what percent of the state budget should go for road upkeep. As the size of the Michigan potholes widened, consensus got easier to reach. At the end of the night, we'd agree to disagree. No hard feelings. I looked forward to the next time of camaraderie and laughter.