An impression

The odor of the wet street mixes with the booze from the bar.
The propiertor shakes out a purple striped dishtowel.
It is early morning, the sun is still not up,
But the air is hot, sticky and sex.

The sidewalks are hosed down,
The street lights sparkle against the puddles.
I don’t know where I’m walking,
But I know I am home.

A GOP as VP on the Democratic ticket?

A report from the AOL.com page mentioned that Obama vetted a former Secretary of Agriculture from the Bush Jr. cabinet, Ann M. Veneman. Of course, dems are surprised and the Hillary troops are probably about to have a coronary. But, is it an actually possibility?

Probably not.

I have not found a report about this possibility on any reputable new source. The Times does not have it, neither does BBC or Al Jazeera. I also checked the not quite so reputable news sources, Huffington Post and Drudge Report and did not see anything there. So, is what AOL reporting as true? Yup, but this is Obama and his handlers playing a political game. If you can get moderate Republicans to think he would consider a GOP running mate, what else would he be flexible on? Perhaps some cabinet positions? Maybe some leeway in a tax bill? If they believe he is willing to work with them, what will they give to him? He is a consummate politician.

She won't be on the democratic ticket.

Go away already!

A link to the column that inspired this posting:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/patricia-zohn/culture-zohn-boomer-girl_b_113159.html

The David Brooks' article was concise and well written. Brooks' article was about a shift in what it means to be mature and why we should consider character development when selecting a candidate. It was not a rant about Boomers, but it is interesting and revealing that you read it that way.

What is even more revealing is you take credit for writers and musicians who are not of your age demographic. All of the artists you mentioned are from either the Silent Generation or the Greatest Generation. To illustrate, Philip Roth was born in 1915, Joni Mitchell was born in 1943 and Rolling Stones birthdays run the gamut from 1941 - 1947 (and the1947 birthday is Ron Wood, not one of the originals). These are not the Boomer years, but the years of the Silent and the Greatest. If you are going to celebrate your generations' contribution to culture and society, it would behoove you to choose someone who is actually from your generation.

What most X'ers have found grating and officious about Boomers is their "ability" to see themselves as the only people who matter. I graduated high school during the Reagan recession and the only job I could find was assembly work at a sweat shop on Long Island for $3.35 an hour. Yet, every time I turned around I was referred to as a slacker, lazy and unenlightened. Also, during your watch, you pulled the plug on student loans, raised tuitions, started the "War on Drugs", ended pension plans, brought in HMOs and so on. Effectively, you had a good time at the party and left the cleaning up to us. What a hell of a legacy.

Aging gracefully is not about trying to keep yourself relevant or holding on to power or dying your hair so the gray is not showing. Aging gracefully is about knowing when to step aside and let the younger people have their 5 minutes in the light. You are not aging gracefully. Perhaps it is a lesson you really need to learn.

Michael

I had a friend once,
And his name is Michael.
Michael was a little touched,
Definitely a drunk,
And creative as hell.
But, Michael up and left me,
For a good job,
And a trip to France.
Now I do not know,
Michael anymore.

I tried to write to Michael,
But to no avail.
I would write lengthy letters,
About the problems of the world.
Michael did not answer,
And this caused consternation.
Perhaps I did not understand,
What he wanted from me.

So, today I see Michael,
And he looks the same as ever.
But,
This is not a good thing.
One thing good,
Did come of my affair.
For today I am grateful,
For what I never acquired.

A slightly gentler mood

A woman walking in the North End,

Clean laundry tucked in an oversized bag.

Her shirts and towels neatly folded,

The warmth from the freshly dried fabric,

Radiating into the air.

A man paces by,

From the very same laundry.

He shoved his goods into a sack,

Lugged across his shoulder.

A complete picture it would be,

If he had a beard and a cap.

Cobblestone roadways,

Torn by the plows.

Moving the snow all winter.

Has an unsuspecting driver broken an axle?

Or has a distracted runner

Broken his foot?

I thought I heard Italian on the street,

Along with Spanish, Portuguese and Dutch.

Nearby the “Connah Store” owner was shuttering his windows,

While biting into a Cannoli.

The tourists were wearing,

Fur coats, scarves and boots.

The locals donned heavy sweater and an occasional jacket

The sunlight bounced off the harbor.

The yellow turned to gold on the windows.

How lovely Boston can be,

During a winter evening.

Bhramin and Kshatryia

Enough.

Enough with the American distrust of those who are brighter, more educated or skilled.

Enough with romantic notions of the Wild West, John McClane or the virtue of being street smart.

The people who change society, who improve lives, who make a difference belong to the Bhramin and Kshatryia castes. The rest of us are workers who need to get off our high horse and begin to listen. The country elected a man "who you could have a beer with" and we know where that has gotten us. It is time to appreciate those of the species who are talented, special, smart and just made of better genetic stuff than the rest of us. In other words, stop believing the delusion that yes, you too can formulate the Unified Theory if only that goddamn email you received from your boss wanting to know where the paper clip supply has disappeared to did not show up in your inbox.

Get over yourself.

Teachers, pilots, baseball players, great vocalists deserve more pay than you do. Teachers help the young become productive members of society, pilots help us arrive at destinations in one piece while controlling a marvel of technology, baseball players make a Saturday afternoon fun, and great vocalists change the mundane to sublime. Tell me, Mr. or Ms. Chip On Your Shoulder what exactly did you do today? Shuffle some papers from one side of the desk to another? Did you write a procedure that only complicates a situation? What contribution did you make today that really improved another person’s life?

It is not how hard you work, but how difficult the job is to accomplish that counts.

Chew on that for a while.