Edd Webb and David Wink at the Office - Pullman, WA

The importance of being older

Oct 10, 2012 Breaking It Down

Let me break this down for you...

Getting older puts things in a different perspective. I realized the other day that I do not feel like I have a generation. Too young to be a Baby Boomer or a member of the Greatest Generation I'm too old for Generation X Y or Z. My generation is so lame we didn’t even get a name. If we did I missed the memo.

We were the lost generation, the last one to grow into adults before the information age dawned; we have one foot in the black & white past and the other on a digital banana peel. We’ve experienced free television with 3 channels and nothing on; and marveled at satellite TV with 260 channels, still with nothing on AND we get to pay for it.

On the whole I don’t see being excluded from membership in an imaginary group with a pithy name for a bunch of people randomly born at the same time as a negative because I don’t belong to anything anyway. Like Samuel Clemmons I lose respect for any organization (or disorganisation) that would have someone like me as a member. I’ve met me, I know how I am and I find myself… distasteful at times. Nothing personal, I just don’t always care for myself every day. I can be a bit much.

All bullshit aside I am blogging for my kids, all of them. Its just that simple. The world is a confusing place chock full of people who will not only lie to you and steal your lunch money, they will do so gleefully with black malice in their hearts.

Maximum flexibility

We live a smaller life, in a smaller house, with a smaller footprint. Maximum flexibility coupled with minimum commitment.

The way shit is today that doesn’t sound too bad to me.

Found a woman who likes it this way too, so we fit together pretty good. She actually likes listening to my rants and supports this blog by being my web developer. She also takes care of the puppies. More about them later I’m sure.

The main reason for this blog though is kids. I have known a lot of kids and watched them become adults in many different circumstances over the last 50 years…and I try to pay attention.

I have recieved late night phone calls from my kids and other peoples kids for a very long time. Urgent phone calls from my step son specifically gave me the idea for this blog. We are fortunate enough to have a great relationship with our gigantic 22 year old college student/ROTC cadet/basketball player. He calls us all the time to ask all kinds of questions from the broadest range of topics.

My wife usually handles health, food, dog training, laundry and most typical mom types of questions.

Example: I found this in my car; I think it’s been in there for three days. Is it still good to eat?

My wife and I have a more traditional sort of marriage so she has experience with these topics. I get the emergency “Oh shit, now what?” types of calls.

Example:  I’m in the parking lot at the apartment, and I think my ex-girlfriend just called the cops on me for taking my shower head back. What do I do?

No pressure.

Raising a person who you know will be able to kick your ass one day is a delicate task that requires a balanced approach. I have to keep this behemoth in check but I don’t want to turn him into a dipshit who can’t think for himself. The entire goal is to raise a kid who isn’t trying to find himself while smoking your weed and living in your basement at age 32.

So, many years of these types of phone calls is the impetus of this blog; life is complicated so I will try to break it down for you. Young people have everything but experience, their supposed to get that over time from screwing stuff up. They are also are supposed to get some help from us.

Me and my lost generation have already fucked up everything you are about to fuck up, so why not obtain a few tips going in?  Send me your question/predicament and I will try to help you sort it out. I do not guarantee that you will like the answer I give, or even that there is an answer. I only offer the truth as I see it from my hard earned perspective.

BTW:

I know…I cuss too much in real life as well. I am the son of a sailor, myself a soldier, a roustabout and a roughneck. So I cuss. This blog has my name on it so guess what? I apologize in advance to the people I will alienate and offend now and in the future. It’s not personal; but honestly I don’t like many of you any more than I like myself sometimes. Why should you get a pass?

Edd Webb

About the Author Edd Webb

I am the descendant of Appalachian storytellers. Which is a fancy way of saying that bullshit is in my DNA. I left the hills and hollows of southwestern Virginia and went out to look at the big bright world a long time ago. I wanted to know how things really worked. Between then and now I've lived and learned, fought and fled; winning some and losing others. I found good & evil in the hearts of men and love in the heart of a woman. My kids keep my mind sharp and my dogs remind me to try to be the person they think I am. I am a soldier, the son of a sailor and a redneck by birth. I was a roughneck by necessity and have become a philosopher by aspiration. I have a few good friends and count myself lucky to know them. I might be wrong but I won't lie. Unless you ask me if you look fat in those pants.

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