The Baby Boomer Generation is a source for trends, research, comment and discussion of and by people born from 1946 - 1964.
Covering issues on the Boomer Generation including original content for Boomers, bulletin boards, user comments, Sixties and Seventies music, Baby Boomer culture, health and coverage of issues for "Aging Hipsters."
Last night we thought we'd spend a quiet evening in New York City with a million of our closest friends.
I have to say, I was amazed at the number of people wandering about, staring at the store windows and generally having a fun, free Christmas Eve - until we decided to go to Rockefeller Plaza. Apparently (and I say this with great affection) this has become THE attraction for out-of-towners... and I'm not talking about Jersey. It seems that every human being with a camera was taking family portraits in front of the big Christmas tree.
It was so congested, literally shoulder-to-shoulder, that it was total gridlock. Jan was freaked out, but I decided I'd try to see how many family photos I could get into.
At first I just positioned myself in the frame and acted like I was just admiring the tree, but as I became more brave, I inserted myself into the group, smiled a big toothy grin and acted like I was a really tall, blond, distant relative.
I know I'm in at least 6 photos.
My favorite? I sauntered up to a family of about 6 women (dad was taking the picture) and smiled. I could see dad was a bit perplexed and he shooed me out. The others only realized I was there when he tried to get me to step back, but I just said "can I get in?" The girls gigggled and said yes (I think they said yes) and dad snapped the photo.
Just my way of spreading holiday cheer all around the world.
Many of you will remember that we lost our dog-friend, Max nearly two years ago. After a period of mourning and a rather lengthy time without a dog, we decided to "just see" if we could find another friend we could welcome into our home.
About a month ago we rescued a wonderful dog named Cole. He is everything we wanted in a dog - smart, active, affectionate and friendly. He's all that and more. Cole is a Whippet/Pointer mix and he has only the best characteristics of both breeds. He has no smell, is as fast as greased lightening and loves to lay round the house - mostly Whippet characteristics. As far as the pointer is concerned, he's tireless at checking the wind for game and will routinely point (with a leg up) to anything that moves.
The added benefit of Cole is his escapability - Max NEVER went through the electric fence. Cole on the other hand, is willing to take the hit provided there is sufficient distraction (read squirrel) on the other side. So he's gotten us up off the couch for three 30 minute walks a day.
We've really fallen for little Cole and a great big thank you to Keith and Stephanie of Rogers Rescue for their kind assistance.
One of the advantages to being an aging Baby Boomer is the enlightenment one achieves with age. This morning while reading a story on how some school districts have banned the playground game "tag" (sigh) I was trying to remember other "dangerous" games we played way back when.
Hide and seek came to mind and I began to wonder the origin of "Ollie Ollie Oxen Free" (yelled when the seeker finally gives up and everyone comes in for round two.) It seems the phrase is possibly a corruption of the German "Alle, alle auch sind frei", (literally, "Everyone, everyone also is free").
OK, so on to the next mystery - a song my mother used to sing to us - "Mairzy Doats And Dozy Doats and liddle lamzy divey A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?" I found out years ago that the literal translation is: "Mares eat oats And does eat oats And little lambs eat ivy. A kid will eat ivy too, Wouldn't you?" (sigh) I liked my mother's version better.
Got any childhood phrase corruptions of your own? Discuss them in the link below.
You know, sometimes you look up and your life has become a Kodak commercial. (I love making these sort of references - it's a kind of generational inside joke). Turn around and there's hair growing in strange places. You can't remember the name of your first grade teacher and that girlfriend you swore you'd never forget is not even a chapter anymore - more like an italicized paragraph.
It's as if there's really only just so much room and the mind keeps truncating stuff to make room for new stuff. Not archiving, mind you. This is a really bad librarian who rather than putting things back in the stacks, files the jacket and throws away the book. Now frankly, I'd rather have a clearer recollection of what's-her-name than try to remember whether or not I put out the garbage on Wednesday night. Well, ok, I don't remember that either, but I do remember the perfume ol' so-and-so wore.
Perhaps it's just as well. Maybe my personal librarian isn't trying to erase the details - gory as they may be - as much as smooth out the edges. I think this is what they must mean by "experience".
What brings me to this tome is the fact that I couldn't remember the name of my favorite actor. I could remember scenes in vivid detail; lines verbatim and even movie titles. But I couldn't remember his name to save my life. What's
more, even after being reminded, I had forgotten his name the next day. As if this was a piece of information that had been deemed "archived" and there was nothing I could do to re-shuffle it to the front.
To add insult to injury, we cracked open the original Trivial Pursuit game the other night. If you haven't played this game in a few years, don't bother. Those questions were written in 1980 - the passing of twenty-some years has only added more rounded edges to little bits of crap you didn't want to remember even back then.
I wonder if I remember how to set up a backgammon board.
Edison was credited with saying "I never remember anything I can look up". Thank God they're installing high speed internet in retirement homes.
By the way - Her name was Gail, but I'm still struggling with Clint What's-his-name.
Yes, now apparently they're giving awards for the best underwear.
I blame Madonna - ever since she wore her bra on the outside and deleted the word "unmentionable" from our collective vocabularies.
Anyway, this underwear voting thing piqued my curiosity (or the voyeur in me) and I decided to get to the "bottom" of it.
I happen to know the woman behind the Undie Awards, Tomima Edmark- who, by the way, takes underwear very seriously. She told me that a recent study showed about 60% of American women are wearing the wrong size bra. Frankly, from a man's perspective it was probably more information than I needed to know - but 60% of anything is an incredible number statistically.
So how did so many women go wrong? Tomima claims there are a lot of reasons - not the least of which is department store bra "fitters" putting women into sizes they have in stock. And, apparently, lots of women have one breast larger than the other. I swear, I've never done any independent research into this fact, so I'm taking her word for it.
She also claims women don't measure themselves often enough - yet another fact I can't substantiate - and she proceeded to explain some sort of algebraic equation for finding the right size bra. No wonder so many women are in the wrong bra - it's a math thing! Start recruiting girls into math and science programs and we'll whip this thing in a generation.
Take note Boomer women - measure thyself once a year.
So why an award program for underwear? According Tomima - when women find something that fits comfortably, they get down right evangelical about it. This is apparently what women talk about when we cavemen are snoozing between football games. TheUndies.com is an attempt to allow women to vote for, and wax poetic about their favorite undies. I'm sure I don't understand this. I'm trying to picture my Thursday night poker crowd comparing underwear brands. It just ain't happinin'.
Tomima invited me to vote, which I did; I have never felt so lost in my life, although the first voting page was a lot of fun (I'm a 141). Guys, you can skip this, but at least 60% of the women reading this should give it a whirl... coffee, little sandwiches with no crust and Milano cookies are all virtual.
Does that plastic-headed Burger King creep anyone else out, or is it just me?
Is banning plastic grocery bags in San Francisco a good start or a fart in the wind?
Does watching those Peter Max/Inna-Godda-Divida retirement commercials make you want to fire up a doobie and curl up in the fetal position, or is it just me?
Does anyone else want to see Karl Rove sweat like a Sumo wrestler as he testifies about why a prosecutor was fired to make room for his own "protege," or is it just me? (My dream scenario has Rove answering questions posed by Sam Ervin - pipe dreams, both)
OK - I admit I'm one of those over 50-somethings that hits the bed at 9pm (or sooner) and a built-in clock that says "hey - you had 8 hours of sleep, get the heck up." So there I was at 4 AM Saturday looking for something to do. As usual, I came here looking for yet another doo-dad (see the "print" icon under the articles) to make this place just that much better. By 8am I started uploading files and rebuilding content - but for some reason the site was as slow as molassas in um, February.
Then I spotted it - a comment that said "I just saw this on TV..."
I felt a little like Navin Johnson when the new phone books came out - we're somebody.
Years ago - 1995 I believe- I happened to stumble on the feeding frenzy that was the launch of Windows 95. I was aware of the midnight launch and it raised anxiety because it represented something I already knew - Microsoft had ripped off my beloved Mac UI. In fact I wondered, how long would it take before I too was absorbed into the borg that is Microsoft.
But along the way, something funny happened. Apple didn't disappear. The Mac OS was radically redesigned and today OS X stands as the premier operating system - bar none. I can still hear my mother say "if everyone jumped off the bridge would you too?" I didn't and I'm glad.
Fortunately for those of you in lock step with Microsoft, you can get your first look at the Mac operating system in the form of Vista. How wonderful that you only had to wait six years to see what the the "rest of us" already knew back in 2000.
Actually, I'm thinking about taking a couple of steps backward into the future. I'm going to trash my Mac, and iPod in favor of Vista and a Zune. They're exactly the same, right?
I give it three weeks before I'm doing things like searching for drivers (whatever those are) and asking questions in Vista forums about the latest greatest DLL (Dirty Little Lies?). And boy, won't I look stylish with that big 'ol brown Zune strapped to my hip (it's a geek thing).
I've always felt Microsoft was really designed just to keep IT assholes employed. After-all, if we all had Mac reliability and ease of use, the cult of IT would no longer exist - no one would put up with the peevish personalities this whole windoze thing has foisted on us. We'd gleefully send them back the the dark hole they came from.
How much you wanna bet that within a couple of days some hacker finds a security hole the size of a Buick in Vista. Ahhh, job security!
Finally, I just need to remind you all what VISTA really stands for:
Stumble Upon has made my long strange trip into the Internet even stranger yet. Give it a try and see what you can find - like the ASCII-0-Matic which turns a photo into cool artwork in a matter of seconds.
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and a rock concert experience. It can be anything you want - good or bad - BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.
I know some of you Baby Boomers out there share my secret desire to pillage and burn as a pirate on the open seas... but alas, the mortgage needs to be paid and the kids are in college.
Fear not pirate wannabes - even if sailing about the Caribbean hunting booty is a little bit of a stretch, you can still get your very own, official Pirate name!
My pirate name is:
Captain Morty Rackham
Even though there's no legal rank on a pirate ship, everyone recognizes you're the one in charge. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!
Some of you may have noticed that the Baby Boomer Homepage disappeared for a few days. Class, write this down: do not forget to renew your domain name before its expiration date. A good and cheap place to buy domain names, by the way, is godaddy.
No, Mrs. Vander(something) is not to blame. I adored her, but somewhere around 5th grade I stopped paying attention to the proper use of punctuation. Today in my world, commas are like breaths and semicolons don't actually exist.
For what it's worth, I gave up after "apostrophe," I just couldn't bear to go on to commas, much less semicolons. When you are sufficiently humiliated, try some additional self abuse with the grammar test.
After visiting this site, my brain (because it has a mind of its own) has seen fit to endlessly repeat the theme from "Popeye." Sometimes jogging the old Boomer memory bank is a bad thing, but in this case (aside from the looping tune) it's a lot of fun.
A friend/associate of mine operates a very successful sales training business. I credit his success to the creative and insightful way he communicates complex material. Recently, I received his monthly newsletter that had this interesting bit of information...
""DON'T SPILL YOUR CANDY IN THE LOBBY"
"Imagine - you spend five dollars today on a box of candy at the movies! You can't wait until you get in, so you fumble to open the box and spill most of the candy on the lobby floor before you even get through the doors to your seat. It ends up that you have only a few pieces of candy left to get you through the picture.ī Don't you just hate it?"
OK, compelling enough to get my attention and make me keep reading, but what about the 5-second rule? It appears to be my day for dispelling/proving myths (see this post from earlier today) and I found this interesting article which apparently proves that in many instances, the 5-second rule is not a myth but has some grain of truth. Frankly, it looks like a job for Mythbusters
Unfortunately, I think the rule should be applied with descretion... 'cuz, if I drop something on the theater floor, it's going to be there a heck of a lot longer than 5 seconds... which in fact, seems to explain where that primordial goo comes from on cinema floors.
"A lot of people have discovered that they can make a little extra money by auctioning off on the internet those extra knick-knacks they have lying around. After all, as the saying goes, one person's trash is another's treasure.
But sometimes, trash is just trash.
This site is dedicated to the research and study of the most bizarre items found for sale on internet auction sites. Not the obviously fake auctions, like the infamous human kidney, but truly tacky stuff that people really, honestly, believed that someone would (and in some cases did) buy."
For you Baby Boomers out there who have been "around" a while, you might find this site interesting enough to waste a few minutes. Create a map of the US (or other countries) with the states you've visited (mine is below). I think I'm going to have to jump in the BoomerMobile and figure out why I haven't been to either Alabama or Mississippi. Then again, perhaps not.
James Brown 70 (not a Baby Boomer) and his wife Tomi Rae, 33 (not a Baby Boomer) got into a scuffle the other day and the self-proclaimed "Godfather of Rock 'n Roll" was rolled back into jail. Brown, a musical icon to many Baby Boomers, has been there before on similar charges.
We're tempted to say here that it was a clash of generations, but judging from the photo, we say Tomi Rae tripped over the luggage trying to get away from James the Horrible... at least that's what Brown will claim.
Technology and cosmetic rejuvenation converge in a new alternative called ThermaCool. Personally, I'd rather look like a Shar Pei than be ThermaCooled , but for those who are hesitant to nip and tuck, this combination of cyrogenics and virtually microwaving the skin might be just the ticket.
Beam me up, Scotty! Stifle yourself, Dingbat! Yabba, dabba, doo! My wife...I think I'll keep her. What a spicy meatball! The next stop is the Twilight Zone. Clap for the Wolfman. Does she or doesn't she? I'm not a crook. Dy-no-mite! If he kissed you once, will he kiss you again?
OK, that's a good start... post a comment and add your favorite; here's mine:
The Baby Boomer Generation isn't dying off fast enough enough for some Gen-Xers. BUT... we're still about 76 million strong minus the notable deaths below.
Mickey Finn, 55 Drummer for 1970s glam rockers T-Rex, with hits "Get It On" and "Guru." Jan. 11.
Maurice Gibb, 53 One of the three Bee Gees, with brothers Barry and his twin Robin. They won seven Grammys, were inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame and ruled the '70s music charts with such hits as "Stayin' Alive" and "More Than A Woman." Jan. 12.
Nell Carter, 54 Tony Award winner for her Broadway role in Ain't Misbehavin' and housekeeper in the 1980s TV sitcom Gimme A Break! Jan. 23.
Lynne Thigpen, 54 Starred as Ella Farmer on current CBS series The District. Tony Award winner for American Daughter, and starred in Hollywood movies Anger Management, as well as The Insider and Tootsie. March 12.
Michael Jeter, 50 Diminutive actor with Tennessee twang won an Emmy Award for his role alongside Burt Reynolds on the TV series Evening Shade. Earned a Tony Award for Broadway role in Grand Hotel, the Musical. March 30.
Little Eva, 57 Eva Boyd had No. 1 hit with the song "Locomotion," penned by the people she babysat for, Carole King and Jerry Goffin. April 11.
Noel Redding, 57 Bass player for rock star Jimi Hendrix. May 11.
Barry White, 58 R& B crooner and 2000 Grammy Award winner for album Staying Power. Renowned for his lush baritone and carnal lyrics that oozed sex appeal with hits such as "Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe." July 4.
N!xau, 59 His exact birth date is unknown, but the tiny Kalahari Bushman N!xau - pronounced with the African clicking sound - became a global star in the 1980s film, The Gods Must Be Crazy. July 4.
Erik Braunn, 52 Iron Butterfly guitarist who played one of rock's most recognizable riffs in "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida." July 25.
Gregory Hines, 57 Tony Award winning actor and tap-dancer who starred on Broadway and in movies White Nights and Running Scared. Aug. 9.
Warren Zevon, 56 Singer-songwriter best known for hit "Werewolves Of London." Last album, The Wind, was his first Top 40 work in 25 years, released 14 days before he died Sept. 7.
John Ritter, 54 Bumbling and lovable Jack Tripper on Three's Company. Son of singing cowboy Tex Ritter. Was enjoying a comeback on TV's 8 Simple Rules For Dating My Teenage Daughter when he died of an undetected heart problem on Sept. 11.
Stanley Fafara, 53 Former child actor who played Beaver's pal Whitey on sitcom Leave It To Beaver. Sept. 20.
Robert Palmer, 54 Rock singer with hits "Addicted To Love" and "Simply Irresistible." Formed Power Station in 1985 with Duran Duran's John Taylor and Andy Taylor, scoring three U.S. hits including "Communication" and "Get it On." Sept. 26.
Fred Berry, 52 Bulb-shaped, squeaky-voiced actor famous for playing red-beret-wearing Rerun on the 1970s TV sitcom What's Happening! Oct. 21.
Bobby Hatfield, 63 Tenor half of the Righteous Brothers duo with worldwide hit "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling." Found dead hours before a concert. Nov. 5.
Gene Anthony Ray, 41 Actor and dancer best known for his roles in the 1980 movie Fame and its spin-off TV series. Nov. 14.
Arthur Conley, 57 Soul singer whose best known hit was 1967's "Sweet Soul Music." Nov. 17,
Michael Kamen, 55 Grammy-winning and Oscar-nominated composer fused classical style with hard rock riffs for Pink Floyd, and played music for movies Die Hard and Lethal Weapon. Nov. 18.
Gary Stewart, 59 Honky-tonk singer known for the songs "She's Actin' Single (I'm Drinkin' Doubles)," and "Drinkin' Thing." Died of apparent suicide. Dec. 16.
The 2003 Year-End Zeitgeist offers a unique perspective on the year's major events and hottest trends based on more than 55 billion searches conducted over the past year by Google users from around the world. Whether you are tracking the global progression of the latest news or learning about healthy searches in Japan, the 2003 Year-End Zeitgeist enables you to look at the past year through the collective eyes of the world on the Internet.
The term "zeitgeist" comes from the German "Zeit" meaning "time" and "Geist" meaning "spirit". The term is defined in English by Merriam-Webster's Collegiate® Dictionary as "the general intellectual, moral, and cultural climate of an era."
Mark my words Baby Boomers, this is going to happen.
I took a few well-deserved days off and found myself stuck on the Histroy Channel at 2 in the afternoon (nevermind what I was watching). The commercials consisted of one endlessly repeating spot for the Scooter Store (http://www.thescooterstore.com). You know - those powered chairs designed to bilk Medicare and old people at the same time... Anyway, I started to daydream about the day I place a call (in the distant future) to the Scooter Store because I just can't make it to the fridge anymore.
TSS: "The Scooter Store, how can I help you, man?"
ME: "Well, I'm almost embarrassed to say this, but yesterday I just couldn't make it to the bathroom and ..."
TSS: "Bummer... you need a scooter, man"
ME: "Yeah, that's what I was thinking, that whole bathroom thing was a drag."
TSS: "Groovy, we've got this radical Gerry Garcia model, you gotta check out, "Or maybe the Jimi Hendrix Experienced Scooter" .. it's a refurb with low miles.
Scary huh? That will teach me to take an afternoon nap with the televsion on.
Make It A Roy Rogers Christmas for This Baby Boomer
Yes, I'm a sappy, nostalgic Baby Boomer cream puff when it comes to this time of year. But as I grow gracefully old, my memory of specific Christmas mornings past fads like a pair of seafarer jeans. BUT, there is ONE that stands out above the rest. I call it my Roy Rogers Christmas.
Apparently, my parents must have known that I was a big RR fan (I wonder how they knew) because on Christmas morning there was the largest package I had ever seen. Inside was the complete Roy Rogers collection: Leather vest and chaps, the official Roy Rogers camping cook set (fry pan, utensils and canteen (I think) and to top it all off, a double leather holster with twin Roy Rogers cap guns! Holy Cow! I had just reached Roy Rogers heaven on earth.
I don't really know what happened to the camping cook set (I probably tried to make eggs on the stove with the plastic frying pan) but those shiny silver cap guns wouldn't be worth a plug nickel to a collector today.
Years later, I found one of the guns in the bottom of a box my mother had sealed and labeled "old toys." The "chrome" was all but worn off leaving just a smooth white plastic shape . The trigger was "fanned" to a nub and the sight was just a bump on the end of the barrel. I think the collectors call that "play wear." I call it "chasin' bad guys."
Do you have a special Christmas memory? Share it with us by posting a comment below.
We've been saying for some time now that Baby Boomers will exert tremendous pressure on marketers to design (or re-design) products aimed at the aging Boomer generation. We are the proverbial 500 pound silver back gorilla who won't be ignored.
Here's an example of a re-design done specifically for Boomer bikers: Giant Bicycles
Those of you around at the beginning of the Baby Boomer Homepage may recall that Max, our stoic dog-friend, once dispensed advice here. He retired some years ago from active participation, but remained a beloved guest in our home.
Yesterday, Max had surgery to remove a malignant tumor. He's doing well and should be home today. Max and I are planning a weekend of rest (for Max), football (for me) and fresh air (for both of us).
We're just thankful for every moment we have with this most extrordinary friend.
If you would like to make a contribution to Max's surgery fund, click on the button below
You've all heard of spam e-mail, now there's comment spam. Over the last few weeks, and especially this weekend, the Baby Boomer Homepage (and many other blogs) was hit by a comment spam attack. Essentially, a spam robot automatically posted hundreds of x-rated comments to our system. The result was a couple of hours of cleanup and a few more hours studying how to stop it in the future.
For now, there's not a reliable (read, simple) way to stop comment spam but we're working on it. Meanwhile, those comments from "Preteen" and "Lolita" have been removed and as part of the Movable Type community, we're working to help eliminate comment spam.
We haven't shut down comments, but if this keeps up, we'll be going the way of many other weblogs and either turning off comments or shutting down completely.
The wretched excess of my own generation never ceases to amaze me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that not only is the Hummer the current Baby Boomer toy de jour, it's got it's own "driving academy."
We just fought a war so these myopic, selfish, wasteful people can tear up the landscape behind the wheel of their personal Godzilla. But I suspect, for participants of "Hummer U", it was the first time they've ever gone anywhere other than the local Piggly Wiggly. It must be tough totin' home a gourmet bag of kiwi fruit in the front seat.
Frankly, "a hummer" meant something completely different in my day, which begs the question: "is it better to give or recieve a hummer?"
Greg Schneider of The Washington Post captures the essence of a new Boomer trend:
"As the Summer of Love evolves into the Autumn of Viagra, baby-boomer males are buying all the cool toys they couldn't afford as kids."
In particular, he sees Harley-Davidson dealers as the beneficiary of our new-found wealth.
"These days, Harley dealerships feel a little like Pottery Barns with leather. At East Coast Harley near the Quantico (Va.) Marine Corps base, bikes sit in a line near racks of Harley boots (starting around $100), Harley Motorclothes and Harley cat toys. It's a lifestyle as much as a product."
Groovy new desktop icon for all you techno-boomers out there.
Two flavors: Windows ".ico" file archived in a .zip file and Macintosh folder in a "stuffit" file. You geeks should know what to do with it... the rest of you are on your own as far as tech support goes.
For those Baby Boomers who have already weathered the storm of raising children, we offer this amusing look at child rearing-blog style. Raising Hell (in their own words) "...isn't an advice rag, and it won't tell you what your baby should be doing at three months or two years. Instead, the writers present new twists on
parenting with liberal doses of wry humor that even singletons will enjoy."
I won't be writing comments on this blog. It's just to painful to recall. And whomever said "it gets easier when they get older" never had a set of 20 year old twins. Take it from me, it doesn't get easier... they just get bigger.... and eat more.
If you're going through the 'whatever-happened-to' nostalgia syndrome, do what millions do and Google them. Yes, you can pay for Classmates or hire a private detective, but more and more people are simply using Google to track down long lost loves, friends, colleagues. See the Wired Article for more about being your own Nancy Drew (or Hardy Boy).
Posted by Jan at March 15, 2003 12:30 PM
I got the classmates fever and signed up. They keep changing the format and of course keep trying to sell you something.
Results have been 60/40 for replies. I must not have been too popular or just maybe the recipient hasn't paid their classmates dues to read their email.
Never again classmates!
I got sucked into paying too, after 5 or 6 years of happily freeloading. The minute I paid I realized there was no one I particularly wanted to write to and nothing pressing I had to post on the boards. Have to hand it to 'em for potent marketing, though.
CNN reports a British cannabis campaigner, who changed his name by deed poll to Free R Cannabis was jailed for two months on Friday for auctioning the drug at a demonstration. Cannabis, 33, previously known as Robert Christopher, openly sold the drug using a microphone in London's Hyde Park.
A couple questions come to mind:
1. Was business so bad he had to advertise?
2. Was Mr. Cannabis wearing a big sign that said "bust me"?
Many, many moons ago during a time when numerous outdoor concerts were spawned by the Woodstock phenomenon, I was lucky enough to attend a mini free-love and music event in of all places, West Virginia. Attendance was lackluster at best and by the end of the second day, the promoters were on stage auctioning off bags of pot to cover their expenses.
It didn't seem even the least bit strange at the time.
Keeping up with the lingo is essential if you want to be neanimorphic, and if you have one or moreboomerangers you may be a member of the sandwich generation or suffer retirement panic. Look up these and other culture-defining words and phrases at Word Spy.com, devoted to recently coined words and phrases, old words that are being used in new ways, and existing words that have enjoyed a recent renaissance.
Get there quick or suffer from a generation lap.
Posted by Pete at March 4, 2003 07:27 AM
My favorite is "Prairie Dogging." The process of popping your head out of your cubical to see what's going on. Often when there's a loud noise, severl people can be observed prairie dogging at the same time.
What ever happened to... Locate your favorite MIA actor. How low can Enron go? This site sells shares of Enron stock... suitable for framing. Classmates.com says sign up for free to find your high school classmates. Be warned. If you actually want to talk with them, it will cost you $29.99 a year. SPAM FAQ Last week I received 437 pieces of mail. 328 of them were SPAM.
The Capt. James T. Kirk singalong page. If anyone knows where this page went, please let me know. It's a riot.
Angry.org "The crankiest site on the net." Yet another great site that has disappeared. All Pages On This Site Are Products Of Angry People All Over The World. These Rants Have NOT Been Edited From Their Original Form.
Animal House Page. Yeah, you guessed it. One of my favorites.. and of someone willing to devote bandwidth to it.
The local paper ran a story today about hometown "hero" Zora Andrich, had made it to the next round by becoming one of Joe Millionaire's final two. Realizing how close I actually lived to such (near) greatness, I started reminiscing about the number of times I had actually stood in the warming glow of greatness.
Sugar Ray Leonard entertained a group of about 10 employees in the office of a store during a grand opening appearance. Wonderfully witty, warm and very relaxed and for some reason he felt the need for some exercise. Suitable equipment being handy, he proceeded to jump rope at an amazing speed. The rope was actually whistling through the air. He didn't even break a sweat and spent about two hours on the store floor signing autographs.
Mary Lou Retton arrived in the company helicopter (which her management insisted upon) that landed on the outer edges of the parking lot (another grand opening). She sprinted (with her entourage) into the store, whisked through the assemble multitude and made a bee line back the chopper. We gave her a 1.2 for style.
Larry Bird made an appearance at our annual managerās meeting. We put him up in a suite at the hotel and had a chance to spend an hour or so with him prior to his speech. This is a BIG man. Standing next to him makes you wonder what a REALLY big NBA player is like. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but was gracious and at times funny. Someone asked him why, after dropping out of Indiana, he went to work on the back of a garbage truck. His response: "I had to do something."
My favorite was about 20 years ago in the lobby of the Opryland hotel. While in the elevator, I was assuming the obligatory foot staring position and wasnāt really watching when the doors opened. I ended up bumping into (literally) James Brown. He was wearing a floor-length fur coat and for a moment I thought I was being mugged by a bear. No big deal, we both apologized and went on our respective ways. Later I realized James had missed a golden opportunity for one of his signature "get back!" lines.
I won't be driving around looking for Zora to add to my list of close encounters, but perhaps there are a few Boomers out there with stories of their own. Feel free to add your own experiences.
Update: 2-13-03 Do I feel just a gullible as the remaining two? Yer darned right I do. I tuned in to see the final episode and got a re-run/re-hash/retrospective of the previous shows.
The local paper reported yesterday that Zora had moved. Perhaps she took that $500,000 and moved down the road to Frenchtown., NJ. Hmmm.