Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
Sometimes, the choice to go along is a good one. Keep the peace, keep smiling, "keep on truckin' " - just like the iconic '70s poster urged us to do. But those posters in the '70s were full of a lot of less than brilliant philosophical musings. Remember the one about setting your seagull free? The '60s were all unrest, protest and clamoring for change. Then the Vietnam War ended in defeat and with unimaginable casualties on both sides. The entire nation was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of violence, tired of hating each other for reasons that some could not even define. We started on a new era where peace and love were the only two human states mentioned. Protest was starting to be forgotten. By the 80s, it was non-existent. We would have protested, but nothing seemed that important. I was never a big fan of protests or hippies. I was a child, but I was born old. It all looked silly to me, blowing up things for peace, killing for peace, saying "peace" but spreading unrest. The time to be a hippie and buck the system is when you're young but I wasn't interested back then. That is why it is so strange to find myself full of revolutionary spirit at this advanced age. Sure, it has to contend with the natural urge to nap, but in between naps, when I am quite awake, I find myself getting quite riled about the world and its ways. But it's unlikely to make a difference. The young make the differences in this world. All I can do is hope that enough of them have the right vision to take the future down the right path. As for me, I shall still sit here and grumble at the state of the world and how quickly my coffee grows cold. That's what old age is all about, living long enough to earn the right to complain. |