Apple Pie
We live in a age of divisions. That’s as American as “apple pie”. I grew up in such an age. That was the time when our hard working parents who won World War II, what Tom Brokaw called “The Greatest Generation,” ran right into their children unwilling to accept their life choices. It was about Civil Rights and Vietnam, but it was also about the value of life over economic and social success. The children wanted to satisfy the spirit rather than the wallet.
Sure it was the “Age of Aquarius” (cue the Fifth Dimension) and we all remember the pictures of kids dancing in the mud at Woodstock. But it was also about the Greatest Generation’s commitment. They first sacrificed in World War II, and then many changed that into sacrificing for the all-mighty dollar. Their children wanted more than that.
Model Family
I grew up in that family. My parents were both veterans of the War. They came back to the United States to start a life together. Mom was from London; she came home with Dad to Cincinnati. They first went into business for themselves, bottling soda pop with an imperious name: The United States Bottling Company. It was just the two of them, Mom mixing syrup in giant vats for the bottling machine, Dad going from store to store marketing the product.
Their hard work was ended by the Ohio River, flooding out the “plant” and ruining the pop. All that was left was the paper shares of stock. Dad decided to take his sales skills into a new industry, television. Mom decided to stay home and take care of what turned out to be three children.
Climbing the Ladder
They climbed “the ladder” together. Dad went from local salesman at WLW-T in Cincinnati to national salesman for Ziv Productions. Then it was sales manager, and then station manager at WLW-D in Dayton. By the 60’s they were doing well; a house in suburban Kettering, kids in the play, sports, and music at the local school, two cars in the driveway.
Mom and Dad were still involved in the world. Mom was always finding ways to help people, volunteering for different community projects. And Dad, a suit and tie businessman, allowed WLW-D to lead the way in discussing the controversial issues of the day in Dayton. They were concerned about making the world a better place.
Like any family we had our issues. But in the end, that Greatest Generation couple produced a surgeon, an artist, and a teacher. All three children went into professions serving the community in one way or another. I guess that was rebellion, no one followed Dad in business. But it was rebelling with full support from our parents.
The Next Generation
Now we are those folks: “OK – Boomer”.
Divisions in our society are nothing new. But today, we face a different kind of generational division. Our children look at us “Boomers” as failing. We have brought them the age of “Trump”, of “Red and Blue” so divided that it shakes the very foundations of our country.
And we have committed the ultimate sin. We are literally leaving the world, the earth, in a perilous state and facing irrevocable change. It only takes a look in the paper (which our children would never do) to see Australia burning, Venice drowning, Greenland melting, and drought in the jungles of Central America. It’s not what we’ve done; it’s what we have failed to do to stop this procession.
Old White Guys
We “Boomers” have allowed truth itself to become a tennis ball bouncing back in forth in the game of political rhetoric, so much so that the evidence of our own eyes isn’t enough. Somehow, we allow the “deniers” to stop every attempt to fix the problem.
And it’s not that the next generations, the Millennials and Generation Z, don’t understand money. In fact, we have made then incredibly aware of costs and cash, letting them be strapped with the financial burdens of their education so they will spend their twenties in “servitude” to the debt. It’s not surprising that we don’t hear a lot of thanks from them. As one Millennial I know says: “…we’ll have to fix things after the ‘old white guys’ are dead”. While as an ‘old white guy’ myself I might resent it, that statement carries a lot of truth.
We who have let our political divisions threaten our world still have a last obligation to fix the problem. Perhaps we will, though that makes 2020 the last, best chance for us. But if we fail, our children will put down their cell phones, pull out their ear-buds, and get to work. Their faith is that technology can lead us out of the crisis.
I want to believe they’re right.
