For you millennials who may read this post I’m giving you fair warning. I’m a eighty year old man who wants to tell you a story that will be a little sappy and hopefully a little funny but everything will be true. And before you start reading and rolling your eyes at what I say remember that I was much like you (a millennial) in the wild and wacky 1960’s when almost everything was always out of control. At that time I perfected that eye roll you’re probably still using today. Being alive in the sixties was a “trip” to say the least. Free love, an over abundance of drugs, with Rock & Roll as our mantra. My best friend and I were in constant trouble from stealing booze and cigarettes from our parents to the occasional visits from state and local police. We thought we had all the answers but were kept from getting really crazy by my ever so vigilant parents. I had my first official date and fell in love immediately until we were sidetracked by both her parents and mine who squashed our love like a bug. Then I crashed my fathers new car resulting in more eye rolling and some serious ass kicking. I decided then that maybe college would be a good change to let me live my life my way. I mean, how right could my parents be, they were over forty years old and obviously had no clue about things. So, I headed off to college to start my next millennial adventure . . .
College wasn’t an adventure but it was very strange. I was just one knucklehead in a rather large group of other knuckleheads trying to adjust to a life of freedom without parents. My biggest problem was adjusting from my father’s strict rules for everything to having no rules at all. I drank way too much and chased young ladies way too much, and learned almost nothing. I cut classes, constantly overslept and was a miserable failure as a student. In my third year I dropped out without alerting my parents and spent the remainder of the money I’d saved entertaining roommates and other friends (mainly females). But the damn college just had to go and notify my parents that I was a no-show and OMG were they irate (another huge parental eye roll). I returned home as a failed millennial with no money, no job, and two parents who would never let me forget what an ass I’d become.
Lets skip ahead to my enlistment in the Army, my time as a state police officer in Pennsylvania , getting married, finishing my bachelors degree, to getting an upper level management job with a national corporation, and finally retiring from the State of Maine’s Judicial Branch. My point is that if I can survive my millennial years, so can you. Truthfully, if you think about it everyone has a millennial period at some time in their life. It’s also true that human beings seem compelled to give everyone and everything a nickname (usually derogatory). There’s the Boomers (that’s me), the Gen X’ers, Gen Y’ers, and hundreds of others. It’s all just so much bullshit. Just remember this important fact. In a few years many of you will marry and have children. What will their nicknames be when they hit their millennial years and begin to drive you absolutely crazy? Some thing you can look forward to. It’s called the “Circle of Life”. LOL
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