Still Remembering the Good Old Days
There are many things I used to do that I no longer do. Some are because they were stupid things to do. Some because I just can’t actually do them anymore (this is actually the second batch of good old days laments, the original is here.)
I keep thinking about the things that I just can’t do anymore because the world has changed. Or maybe just because I have changed. Anyway I felt like bitchin [some more] about it.
Kids don’t appreciate Music anymore….
I realized this the other day when my kids were unimpressed by my air guitar solo. They have no concept that those musicians actually MADE that music on instruments. Nowadays there are sweet, complicated, layered tracks all produced by people pushing buttons and moving levers on a sound board. These songs song good but because they were engineered, not played.
This may make great music, but the audience sure loses some appreciation for the craft of music making.
I try to tell them that there would be silence unless you played the instruments. That it would sound terrible unless you were good at playing instruments. And that you had to write great music and play it well for it to sound good. They look at me like a dinosaur with a walkman.
Creativity is Lacking….
You know what I played with when I was a kid, my toys. I used my imagination to act out stories with ‘my guys‘. And if I did not have the right toy, I made do with something else and pretended.
My children seem to lack this basic childhood skill.
I get it, they do not have to use their imagination, everything is spelled out for them right before their very eyes. Who needs a sorry looking cardboard cutout in a vague dragon shape when there is an actual fire breathing 3-D Dragon practically flying off the screen into your living room?
That’s not a ‘gun’ dad, it is just a stick. Do you now how many bad guys I have mowed down with those sticks?
I consciously try to counteract this inevitability because I think it cuts down on their ability to adapt and improvise. This comes off as me being ‘crabby old daddy’.
And you know what else?
I was afraid of the other moms in the neighborhood.
They had tacit approval to punish me if I did something stupid. I was raised by a village. My friends mom spanked me when I put gum in his hair. My next door neighbor made me go and steal her a new pumpkin after I decided to smash hers on Devil’s Night.
Today nobody better even look at my kid sideways. This is a loss. We were more involved with our neighborhood and more in touch with the young people.