The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

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As much as I try, I can’t keep up with demographic distinctions like Millenial, Gen X or … hellfire, I can’t even remember the names of these categories. Apparently I’m a Boomer, one of those post-war babies spawned by a relief that the Great War was over and returning soldiers and sailors were happy to settle down in the newly built suburbs and raise a family. You know, a nuclear family, not really a reference to the atomic bomb although I’m not real sure.

We’re all old now, us Boomers, most of the WW2 folks have gone to their graves, buried with I LIKE IKE buttons, probably disappointed with us kids, selfish, spoiled brats who thought drugs were the answer, work was for suckers and the future was a cash machine. Some of us invented the internet, smartphones and social media — we thought it would make the world a better place and us a helluva lot richer. One out of two, I guess.

What am I spozed to tell the kids we’re leaving broken promises to? Rusting bridges, crumbling freeways, huge debts, lost wars, high health care costs, rampant homelessness, Covid crazies, tax breaks for the rich, a planet going to hell in a golf cart … that it’s not my fault? No mea culpa? Okay, Boomer, thanks for a few trillion to pay back.

Gotta say, I don’t have kids so I don’t have to look them in the eye and say What, me guilty? Sure tell the next generations we left them all the tools they need. Facebook, Instagram, Fox News, plenty of information combined with the world wide web, go forth and prosper. Pay off our planetary mortgage, figure out what to do with the homeless and the refugees, save the planet we used to power our jet skis and our big fin Cadillacs. We’ll leave you old Elvis records, fentanyl, arsenals of automatic weapons, no forwarding addresses and a hearty Good Luck! Adversity builds character, ask our Depression Era parents. No need to thank us. No need at all….

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