Musings-Lite No. 25

To new subscribers: welcome to the land of Late Night Musings…

They say garbage in, garbage out. The following is what came out of the junk drawer of my mind. I leave it to you to decide what went in.

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We often collectively identify a large portion of our population that are similar in some attributes by some catchy label. We have the Generation X, the Millennials and Generation Z.   Prior times had the Beat Generation, the Lost Generation, the Great Generation. A well-discussed grouping in our times are the Baby Boomers (it spans three chronological generations).

In the spirit of similarly labeling socio-groups, I want to name baptize a new grouping with a new name. It is the “Graffiti Generation” and it includes everyone who had one or more tattoos inscribed on their bodies in the last fifteen years. Their bodies are akin to walls of abandoned building upon which is inscribed graffiti. How bright and gaudy each body is depends on the body’s owner and the hired artist.

My ego needs the following: Please note that this musing is copyright and thus this entry is as well. Anyone is free to use “Graffiti Generation” as long as it is correctly attributed to www.latenightmusings.com and therefore me.

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You never realize how much technology has taken over your life until you find that you check your email and Facebook before you eat breakfast.

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I saw a picture on Facebook that said, “You can’t put your arms around a memory so hug someone today.” Nicely put but if a memory is all you have you can wrap your mind around it.

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I wonder how someone who is pursuing a serious acting career and ends up as a chicken or hamburger in a TV ad feels?

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Maybe it’s my age showing but TV ads that go through sixty-five images in a 30 seconds ad drives me mad.

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If you see a sun-ravaged red pickup towing a similarly sun-ravaged trailer with a rather new riding lawn mower on it, then you know you are in Florida.

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The guy who coined the phrase, “To hell in a hand basket (bucket)” must have been some duffer on his way to the range to hit balls.

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You know you are old when people stop referring to you as that older man/woman, and start simply saying that old man/woman.

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If you lined up all the people who took all the advice in all the books regarding marriage, divorce and living longer you would have untold millions lined up at a bookstore to buy the new book, “How to get married after divorce, easily lose 30 pounds and live past 80.”

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The longest 2 minutes is the last 10 minutes of basketball game. If you could use that kind of a ratio in reference to age, you would live to be 400.

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Remember: If you are drunk, lie on the floor; you can’t stumble or fall from there.

 

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