A friend once asked, Don’t you ever run out of things to write about?, to which I smiled, chuckled and gave the simple reply, No. A current event, a discussion or a social observation might trigger a thought process that finds find my fingertips streaming along the keyboard. In this instance, a personal experience bring these words to print.
A twelve-inch piece of dental floss and the subsequent expense of one thousand, one hundred seventy five dollars and twenty-five cents have led to comments on health care.
When the veterinarian quoted the seemingly astronomical figure to save the life of my Burmese cat Elvis, the dearest of my animal friends, I barely flinched. Rather than dwell on dollar signs, my mind centered on the tragic event caused by leaving the floss on the bathroom sink and how I had cost my three year old cat two or more of his lives. The vet explained that other pet owners are frequently faced with circumstances similar to mine. The nylon thread was imbedded in the intestinal wall, thus necessitating surgery.
As I waited for x-rays to be taken, my eyes gazed upon a pamphlet that displayed the threats of periodontal disease of cats and dogs. The heart, kidneys and liver absorb toxins from the poor condition of the teeth and gums. I was already familiar with the danger to the human heart and shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that all mammals are subject to the same health dangers.
I’ve spent three decades attempting to preserve my teeth and gums by flossing, gargle-washing and brushing at least twice daily. Twenty years ago periodontal surgery was necessary and this past fall molars had to be extracted. Quarterly check-ups and the guidance of periodontists throughout the years hadn’t prevented the worsening of the condition.
In some cases periodontal disease is hereditary. I assume this the case in my instance since I remember how Mom flossed fastidiously, although there is no known family history to claim this as fact.
Poor tooth and gum care aren’t the only causes of periodontal disease. Since diabetics are inherently susceptible to contracting infections, gum disease is one of the acknowledged complications. If not treated, periodontal patients are also at risk of developing diabetes, which can lead to nerve damage and eye and heart diseases.
Simply put, oral bacteria enters the blood stream, becomes attached to fatty plaques in the coronary arteries and contributes to clot formation, restricting normal blood flow and robbing the nutrients and oxygen required for the heart to function properly. This may lead to a stroke or heart attack.
High levels of stress (think financial worries) increase the likelihood of gum disease two-fold. The lack of proper care during troubling episodes of adulthood can be an attributing factor as a result of a regimented routine being disrupted. Good habits can die quick.
Periodontal disease is the number one cause of tooth loss. According to a 1996 American Dental Association/Colgate survey, U.S. dentists say gum disease is a more pressing oral health concern than tooth decay by a 2-to-1 margin.
Studies have also found that rheumatoid arthritis patients are nearly eight times more likely to have periodontal disease. And although studies have found 60% of periodontal patients are twice as likely to have chronic kidney disease, more research needs to be done to link the two together.
During periods of hormonal changes, such as puberty, menstruation and menopause, women become more susceptible to gum disease. Pregnant women are said to be seven times more likely to deliver pre-term, low birth weight babies.
The first signal of gum disease, gingivitis, is sensitivity to hot and cold liquids. The build-up of plaque (tartar) along the gum line due in swollen gums and possible bleeding. Pockets develop as irreversible bone loss leads to further irritation to the gums.
This leads me to concerns about the discussion of health care reform. Unless dental care is inclusive to the dialogue, the health of millions of Americans will remain at a high-risk level. Data from 2005 shows $86.6B was spent on dental care (44% out-of-pocket, 50% private insurance and 6% paid through public programs). And yet, 70% of Americans have no dental coverage and of that figure, 35% forgo an annual dental check-up.
Universal health care isn’t likely to resolve the shortcomings of the medical necessities for the populous. Overall costs could be contained with minimal dental coverage. Without this consideration, gum disease will leave millions of Americans requiring unnecessary medical attention for deteriorating heart, kidney and liver conditions.
Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, “survival of the fittest”, specifically applies to those with periodontal disease. Dental care coverage could curb eventual medical expenses and save lives.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Life of the P-a-r-t-e-e!!!!!!!!!!!
Went to my neice's wedding on VALENTINES DAY when Heather and Phil tied the knot. After the reception dinner (wasn't very good but the open bar made up for it!)the dancin' began!!!!!
And there I was justa hip-hoppin' and boolie-boppin' to e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e-s shock and surprise!!!
I was cooooooooooooooler than all those 20-somethings!!!
Even my 16-year old neice, Taylor, and her two cousins, Rachel and Hannah, were bugged-eyed at my smooth moooooooooves and flashy grooooooooves!
Then.... the DJ got everyone in a circle, chose 4 in the middle to get everybody else dancin'.......... he played Y M C A!!! It was a hoot!!! Couldnta been better if I'd had a toot!!!!!!
Yep, I was in my element and, yet, I haven't been out dancin' in a club for... I don't know for sure... must be over FIVE years!!!!! I had so much fun.
I'll probably be reminded when the event comes out on video!
And there I was justa hip-hoppin' and boolie-boppin' to e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e-s shock and surprise!!!
I was cooooooooooooooler than all those 20-somethings!!!
Even my 16-year old neice, Taylor, and her two cousins, Rachel and Hannah, were bugged-eyed at my smooth moooooooooves and flashy grooooooooves!
Then.... the DJ got everyone in a circle, chose 4 in the middle to get everybody else dancin'.......... he played Y M C A!!! It was a hoot!!! Couldnta been better if I'd had a toot!!!!!!
Yep, I was in my element and, yet, I haven't been out dancin' in a club for... I don't know for sure... must be over FIVE years!!!!! I had so much fun.
I'll probably be reminded when the event comes out on video!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Conservative Me
When I purchased my first home at age 40, I took the conservative route imbedded in my rational thought process from childhood. Farmers don’t lead extravagant life styles and, as was the case with my family, vacations are few and far between so money is very precious.
If it weren’t for weekend trips “up north” Cranberry Lake near Houghton, MI, which was a mere two hour ride, and if not for the cabin built by Uncle Jerry, there would have been no vacations. Fortunately, Jerry and Ethelyn gave us four kids many summer trips to the cabin while dad and mom enjoyed a few peaceful days alone.
In the early 60’s the tranquility of rowboat fishing and dog-paddling around the dock, which Jerry had also built, gave me the best of summers. Coleman lanterns, a gas stove, a grill and a flashlight for those frightful tip-tow nighttime trips to that god-awful, spider-infested, gross-smelling outhouse were exciting experiences. They give me happy-heart memories. I’m still grateful for the simple things in my life.
I couldn’t have wanted for more. Having food a-plenty and a safe, secure and loving home life with a brother and sisters to play with were sufficient. My best friend, Chucky, whose dad worked at the Oldsmobile factory in Lansing, went on vacations to such places as Yellowstone. I was invited to go along but no one, not even Chucky, felt the degree of dismay as myself. It had nothing to do with me personally; it was asthma that kept me feeling down on the farm.
What was initially a bit of jealousy was quickly replaced with the sad fact that I would miss a significant part of the summer without bike riding, playing ball and the little adventures a couple of buddies have as kids. Those two weeks were among the worst of my life.
I’m liberal with some of my thoughts, but for the most part I lay in a stagnant pool of conservatism. Since I didn’t know Mr. and Mrs. Jones, thus having no one to keep up with, and a non-player of the social games that people play, when I sought the help of what’s-his-name, who was more a realtor than a friend, my goal was to take on a home loan that would leave me secure in a castle but well within my financial means.
I ignored words that told me that told me I could afford a home of such-and-such a value. I ignored the suggestion that an adjustable rate mortgage would be right for me but I feared it would cost me an arm and a leg if/when rates went up. After a couple of years I refinanced, not only reducing the monthly payments but also narrowing the freedom of owning the home outright from 25 to 15 years and still chipping away until it was paid off a year earlier.
I followed the same course of reasoning when I moved from Orlando to Spring Hill. I got more home for less money with cash left over that was spent on upgrading carpeting and kitchen appliances, painting the interior with semi-gloss for longer lasting, more easily maintained walls and buying a 48” plasma TV. For the most part, these were true investments. Although there’s too much credit card debt thanks to home insurance, property taxes and “the unexpecteds” of life, I’m still a mortgage-free homeowner, guaranteed to have a roof over my head.
I had the same philosophy of survival when I left home at the age of 20 with all my belongings stacked in a wholly-owned ’69 Gremlin with enough saved for a year’s rent paid in advance. No one could understand my reasoning but, since I was all alone and insecure in foreign surroundings, I could fill my tummy with many nights of macaroni and cheese, which is healthy gourmet food at that age, without the worry of living on the street or, heaven forbid, giving up and retreating to the given security of living in someone else’s home, namely my parents. I was young, free, determined and responsible enough to make it on my own. Living conservatively has always fit like a glove to my needs.
If it weren’t for weekend trips “up north” Cranberry Lake near Houghton, MI, which was a mere two hour ride, and if not for the cabin built by Uncle Jerry, there would have been no vacations. Fortunately, Jerry and Ethelyn gave us four kids many summer trips to the cabin while dad and mom enjoyed a few peaceful days alone.
In the early 60’s the tranquility of rowboat fishing and dog-paddling around the dock, which Jerry had also built, gave me the best of summers. Coleman lanterns, a gas stove, a grill and a flashlight for those frightful tip-tow nighttime trips to that god-awful, spider-infested, gross-smelling outhouse were exciting experiences. They give me happy-heart memories. I’m still grateful for the simple things in my life.
I couldn’t have wanted for more. Having food a-plenty and a safe, secure and loving home life with a brother and sisters to play with were sufficient. My best friend, Chucky, whose dad worked at the Oldsmobile factory in Lansing, went on vacations to such places as Yellowstone. I was invited to go along but no one, not even Chucky, felt the degree of dismay as myself. It had nothing to do with me personally; it was asthma that kept me feeling down on the farm.
What was initially a bit of jealousy was quickly replaced with the sad fact that I would miss a significant part of the summer without bike riding, playing ball and the little adventures a couple of buddies have as kids. Those two weeks were among the worst of my life.
I’m liberal with some of my thoughts, but for the most part I lay in a stagnant pool of conservatism. Since I didn’t know Mr. and Mrs. Jones, thus having no one to keep up with, and a non-player of the social games that people play, when I sought the help of what’s-his-name, who was more a realtor than a friend, my goal was to take on a home loan that would leave me secure in a castle but well within my financial means.
I ignored words that told me that told me I could afford a home of such-and-such a value. I ignored the suggestion that an adjustable rate mortgage would be right for me but I feared it would cost me an arm and a leg if/when rates went up. After a couple of years I refinanced, not only reducing the monthly payments but also narrowing the freedom of owning the home outright from 25 to 15 years and still chipping away until it was paid off a year earlier.
I followed the same course of reasoning when I moved from Orlando to Spring Hill. I got more home for less money with cash left over that was spent on upgrading carpeting and kitchen appliances, painting the interior with semi-gloss for longer lasting, more easily maintained walls and buying a 48” plasma TV. For the most part, these were true investments. Although there’s too much credit card debt thanks to home insurance, property taxes and “the unexpecteds” of life, I’m still a mortgage-free homeowner, guaranteed to have a roof over my head.
I had the same philosophy of survival when I left home at the age of 20 with all my belongings stacked in a wholly-owned ’69 Gremlin with enough saved for a year’s rent paid in advance. No one could understand my reasoning but, since I was all alone and insecure in foreign surroundings, I could fill my tummy with many nights of macaroni and cheese, which is healthy gourmet food at that age, without the worry of living on the street or, heaven forbid, giving up and retreating to the given security of living in someone else’s home, namely my parents. I was young, free, determined and responsible enough to make it on my own. Living conservatively has always fit like a glove to my needs.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Birthday Cheers and Jeers
On this, my Day of Days, I ask myself, What is the importance of a birthday? I think of my 21,185 days of living (including Leap Year days) in the context of the wide variety of people I’ve met who have, to one degree or another, influenced my decisions and actions.
This is not a day of melancholy any more than I allow it to be on Holidays. I reserve those thoughts for every other day of the year for, if I should lump them all in one huge bundle of sorrow, floodgates might open and, as with most aspects of life, I prefer not to go with the flow. Which is not to say there are no periods of waterfalls. I might reflect on a few moments of the past but looking through the rearview mirror of time I’m assured that what is left behind is thoughtfully preserved for clearer visions of the future.
To whose standards are my “successes” put to judgment? Opportunists would discount my accomplishments for a single chance to claim their own perceived successes that they may gain from my materialism. In contrast, others would think of my life an insignificant existence as compared to theirs. But it is I who ultimately assesses my degree of worth.
Disappointments? People. Among those I’ve met, there are many whom I hadn’t the opportunity to really know - sometimes an acquaintance who was intended to be a friend remains a stranger. But I don’t regret having crossed paths with people who may have done me emotional and/or physical harm, without which I would have learned fewer lessons and taught me less about my inner-selves. Adversaries play a part in the development of a person’s attitudes just as much as those who have proven to be of positive influences.
I am who I am. I will be whoever I allow myself to become. I will continue to have experiences instead of dreams, fulfillment rather than regrets. If I were a different person, I might mistakenly regret that I have fewer “things” than others. That which I encounter, I cherish as lessons learned in the school of life, from which graduation comes in the form of a death certificate, not a certification of life.
Many of life’s instructors, including Guilt and Jealousy, have taught me that I have much more to learn. I’m so grateful that community players of my childhood implanted in me values whereby my subconscious dictates my actions.
Music has also molded many of my emotions and enhanced my awareness. It continues to take my mind where I would otherwise not visit; melodies give me rhythm, lyrics give me insight to philosophical dilemmas. I am not a singer. I am not a songwriter. I am an accompanist.
Regardless of my biological age, my spirit remains as youthful in mind as in the past. Wrinkles mark my age to others, but the reflection I see in the mirror discounts their importance for I accept the genetic footprints that have structured the wear and tear that life has dealt to my mind and body, if not my soul.
What’s the importance of my birthday? That I shall live on for an unknown period of time. That I am more a statistic than the person I am, have been or will be. That within a pre-subscribed number of years I will be on Social Security and given whatever benefits Medicare will afford my health. That the count of candles on the cake seems more indicative of my age than the two-digit numerical figure.
What of the future? I fear not the unknown because today is indeed the first day of the rest of my life. I accept that which I have no control over, yet take control and thoughtfully consider the challenges I may encounter that will change the course of my remaining years.
I travel along a road named Ronald Alan Rae – by design, a one-way dead end street. There have been no detours. I have traveled along many side streets, some mired with hazards, and made many stops to get my bearings on which direction to proceed so as to keep me on a journey filled with adventures. Compromises are made out of brotherly love. Sacrifices are mine to make.
Death has the right of way. My Creator has eminent domain. I have the rest of my life to travel along whatever avenues that fate will allow. I am alive, so I shall live and reserve the future past tense for others to acknowledge.
Excuse me, but my birthdays are but momentary landmarks in time. I’ve gotta move on…. I’ve still gotta lot of livin’ to do!
This is not a day of melancholy any more than I allow it to be on Holidays. I reserve those thoughts for every other day of the year for, if I should lump them all in one huge bundle of sorrow, floodgates might open and, as with most aspects of life, I prefer not to go with the flow. Which is not to say there are no periods of waterfalls. I might reflect on a few moments of the past but looking through the rearview mirror of time I’m assured that what is left behind is thoughtfully preserved for clearer visions of the future.
To whose standards are my “successes” put to judgment? Opportunists would discount my accomplishments for a single chance to claim their own perceived successes that they may gain from my materialism. In contrast, others would think of my life an insignificant existence as compared to theirs. But it is I who ultimately assesses my degree of worth.
Disappointments? People. Among those I’ve met, there are many whom I hadn’t the opportunity to really know - sometimes an acquaintance who was intended to be a friend remains a stranger. But I don’t regret having crossed paths with people who may have done me emotional and/or physical harm, without which I would have learned fewer lessons and taught me less about my inner-selves. Adversaries play a part in the development of a person’s attitudes just as much as those who have proven to be of positive influences.
I am who I am. I will be whoever I allow myself to become. I will continue to have experiences instead of dreams, fulfillment rather than regrets. If I were a different person, I might mistakenly regret that I have fewer “things” than others. That which I encounter, I cherish as lessons learned in the school of life, from which graduation comes in the form of a death certificate, not a certification of life.
Many of life’s instructors, including Guilt and Jealousy, have taught me that I have much more to learn. I’m so grateful that community players of my childhood implanted in me values whereby my subconscious dictates my actions.
Music has also molded many of my emotions and enhanced my awareness. It continues to take my mind where I would otherwise not visit; melodies give me rhythm, lyrics give me insight to philosophical dilemmas. I am not a singer. I am not a songwriter. I am an accompanist.
Regardless of my biological age, my spirit remains as youthful in mind as in the past. Wrinkles mark my age to others, but the reflection I see in the mirror discounts their importance for I accept the genetic footprints that have structured the wear and tear that life has dealt to my mind and body, if not my soul.
What’s the importance of my birthday? That I shall live on for an unknown period of time. That I am more a statistic than the person I am, have been or will be. That within a pre-subscribed number of years I will be on Social Security and given whatever benefits Medicare will afford my health. That the count of candles on the cake seems more indicative of my age than the two-digit numerical figure.
What of the future? I fear not the unknown because today is indeed the first day of the rest of my life. I accept that which I have no control over, yet take control and thoughtfully consider the challenges I may encounter that will change the course of my remaining years.
I travel along a road named Ronald Alan Rae – by design, a one-way dead end street. There have been no detours. I have traveled along many side streets, some mired with hazards, and made many stops to get my bearings on which direction to proceed so as to keep me on a journey filled with adventures. Compromises are made out of brotherly love. Sacrifices are mine to make.
Death has the right of way. My Creator has eminent domain. I have the rest of my life to travel along whatever avenues that fate will allow. I am alive, so I shall live and reserve the future past tense for others to acknowledge.
Excuse me, but my birthdays are but momentary landmarks in time. I’ve gotta move on…. I’ve still gotta lot of livin’ to do!
Monday, January 5, 2009
And The Blogs Just Keep On Comin'
The 2008 tally of my blogs is 128, which includes Parcel Post 08, Florida Menagerie 08, Hernando Hews 08, and The Rae Way.
Over all, it's a relatively small number as compared to many other blog sites but I do my best with the time I spend writing.
Besides, I can't sit at the computer all day long.... I'd have a flat ass sooner than I would otherwise!
Over all, it's a relatively small number as compared to many other blog sites but I do my best with the time I spend writing.
Besides, I can't sit at the computer all day long.... I'd have a flat ass sooner than I would otherwise!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Talk or Write - It's All Alright
I’m a better writer than a conversationalist. On the phone, a voice-to-ear conversation can be filled with an embarrassing emotion, an inflection might give the listener hints that the spoken words were other than honest, or a misunderstanding might sideline the main topic into something entirely different.
On the other hand, Word Document is just the right medium to communicate with the opportunity to explain (manipulate?) a situation. There’s no immediate interaction when sent through email so it’s too easy to disregard subjects and references from previous communications. That’s what you call taking control for your own personal interest; keep the recipient confused by imbedding a sense of doubt.
Of course, verbal discussions can also work to express a sense of worth between two individuals with compliments and earnest concerns, possibly forming a mutual admiration between two people. The immediacy of a conversation can bring tears of joy or pain; laughter filled with sarcasm or a real belly buster; or words that expose anger or sheer delight. Innuendos, suggestive remarks, insults and intrusions are, at one time or another, products of an intimate conversation. Disrespect, threats and hate can be just as alarming as love, hope and charity can be bring tranquility.
The impersonal aspects of electronic communication can result in brazen self-indulgent arrogance and the intended reader can’t do too much about it.
If you don’t like the caller, don’t answer the phone, let it go to an answering service or, in some instances, block the caller, which is similar to an email service that can block the sender or the recipient can delete a message before it’s read.
Regardless how people interact, whether by phone or by electronic messaging, there’s always an inherent need for man to communicate with others. Everyone has their own reasons to keep in touch with people albeit it positive, negative or indifferent. The important thing is that no matter the distance between any two parties it can be bridged with spoken or written words. That's what makes lives interesting and meaningful.
On the other hand, Word Document is just the right medium to communicate with the opportunity to explain (manipulate?) a situation. There’s no immediate interaction when sent through email so it’s too easy to disregard subjects and references from previous communications. That’s what you call taking control for your own personal interest; keep the recipient confused by imbedding a sense of doubt.
Of course, verbal discussions can also work to express a sense of worth between two individuals with compliments and earnest concerns, possibly forming a mutual admiration between two people. The immediacy of a conversation can bring tears of joy or pain; laughter filled with sarcasm or a real belly buster; or words that expose anger or sheer delight. Innuendos, suggestive remarks, insults and intrusions are, at one time or another, products of an intimate conversation. Disrespect, threats and hate can be just as alarming as love, hope and charity can be bring tranquility.
The impersonal aspects of electronic communication can result in brazen self-indulgent arrogance and the intended reader can’t do too much about it.
If you don’t like the caller, don’t answer the phone, let it go to an answering service or, in some instances, block the caller, which is similar to an email service that can block the sender or the recipient can delete a message before it’s read.
Regardless how people interact, whether by phone or by electronic messaging, there’s always an inherent need for man to communicate with others. Everyone has their own reasons to keep in touch with people albeit it positive, negative or indifferent. The important thing is that no matter the distance between any two parties it can be bridged with spoken or written words. That's what makes lives interesting and meaningful.
GenXer vs Boomer
This past summer I happened upon an interactive web site called SodaHead. That's what I get set up with with a Google search on any given subject: I know not where I goest through the endless data streams of the Inet. This includes blogs.
I've learned not to accept facts from a questionable source as it may be, and probably is, to one side or the other in accuracy. Of course, I'm not included in that group since I research information from a number of web sites: established news services, government sources and official pages of a particular business.
As a member of SodaHead, I came upon a blog hosted by a 37-year old NonameGenXer who, with utter bitterness, placed all blame on Baby Boomers for the direction this country has gone. The lady wrote about the sell-out of Boomers to materialism, greed and te loss of solid direction for the betterment of mankind, taking it a personal affront to her future. I too have the same feelings.
Although my original response is lost to a deceased web page, the essence of those thoughts were sent in her acknowledgemet that not every Boomer is like the rest.
Nameless,
I feel a great accomplishment with your consideration of adding "Boomers Strike Back" on your website. Not all boomers are greedy and self-indulgent but many are the very ones who protested in the 60's yet have not fulfilled their promises to bring change to the world. I put a lot of blame on the establishment - corporations - to influence consumers in being the "throw-away" society. Boomers had the opportunity to take another path but, as you know, they have fine-tuned the American way whereby no one has sufficient savings and have maintained ignorance of the world community. There's no quickstep to catch up.
I, for one, refused to be molded into the excesses of an era of brats and opportunists.
Charles Reich wrote "The Greening of America" in the early 70's. I remember the basics but was somewhat lost on his multi-level awareness of the future of the economy of America and how we might bring about harmony between corporate interests and the individual but only if drastic steps were initiated to thwart what seemed the inevitable. It didn't happen thus we are at this point in history. Our buying habits and life styles (including putting careers and social contacts above families and personal awareness) are still controlled. I've started a blog on the topic but, as with many of those I save in Word, haven't completed - yet.
Good luck with "Boomers Strike Back". The inclusion of a link to my "Parcel Post" blog would be just fine. Perhaps I can get other readership beyond family and friends and a local newspaper editor. (In the past 18months, I've had dozens of letters printed in the St Pete Times, Tampa Trib, Tallahassee Democrat, plus local editions.) I’ve also had a feature article in the health section of a local paper. It comes with a certain amount of pride that as my thoughts and words progressively became lengthy, and apparently well expressed, I have become a “Guest Columnist” in both Hernando Today and the Hernando Times.
With a little pride and a lot of appreciation, I remain humble to be recognized as a viable contributor to readers’ interests. Anyway, the best of luck with "Boomers Strike Back". I'll keep an eye on your writings on your site - it's a Favorite.
Be well. Be Self.
Ron
I've learned not to accept facts from a questionable source as it may be, and probably is, to one side or the other in accuracy. Of course, I'm not included in that group since I research information from a number of web sites: established news services, government sources and official pages of a particular business.
As a member of SodaHead, I came upon a blog hosted by a 37-year old NonameGenXer who, with utter bitterness, placed all blame on Baby Boomers for the direction this country has gone. The lady wrote about the sell-out of Boomers to materialism, greed and te loss of solid direction for the betterment of mankind, taking it a personal affront to her future. I too have the same feelings.
Although my original response is lost to a deceased web page, the essence of those thoughts were sent in her acknowledgemet that not every Boomer is like the rest.
Nameless,
I feel a great accomplishment with your consideration of adding "Boomers Strike Back" on your website. Not all boomers are greedy and self-indulgent but many are the very ones who protested in the 60's yet have not fulfilled their promises to bring change to the world. I put a lot of blame on the establishment - corporations - to influence consumers in being the "throw-away" society. Boomers had the opportunity to take another path but, as you know, they have fine-tuned the American way whereby no one has sufficient savings and have maintained ignorance of the world community. There's no quickstep to catch up.
I, for one, refused to be molded into the excesses of an era of brats and opportunists.
Charles Reich wrote "The Greening of America" in the early 70's. I remember the basics but was somewhat lost on his multi-level awareness of the future of the economy of America and how we might bring about harmony between corporate interests and the individual but only if drastic steps were initiated to thwart what seemed the inevitable. It didn't happen thus we are at this point in history. Our buying habits and life styles (including putting careers and social contacts above families and personal awareness) are still controlled. I've started a blog on the topic but, as with many of those I save in Word, haven't completed - yet.
Good luck with "Boomers Strike Back". The inclusion of a link to my "Parcel Post" blog would be just fine. Perhaps I can get other readership beyond family and friends and a local newspaper editor. (In the past 18months, I've had dozens of letters printed in the St Pete Times, Tampa Trib, Tallahassee Democrat, plus local editions.) I’ve also had a feature article in the health section of a local paper. It comes with a certain amount of pride that as my thoughts and words progressively became lengthy, and apparently well expressed, I have become a “Guest Columnist” in both Hernando Today and the Hernando Times.
With a little pride and a lot of appreciation, I remain humble to be recognized as a viable contributor to readers’ interests. Anyway, the best of luck with "Boomers Strike Back". I'll keep an eye on your writings on your site - it's a Favorite.
Be well. Be Self.
Ron
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