An old saying has always irked me: “The early bird gets the worm.”
I do understand the point, but I’ve always wondered, what about the poor early worm? If the worm had chilled another hour or two, he may not have been the high protein breakfast treat for Mr. Robin Redbreast. He might even be still hanging out today, worming (heh-heh-heh) his way through the garden.
Because it’s an old saying, I think I was expected to accept the wisdom without question, but since little Jali was just as stubborn as the adult (in her own special way) Jali, I questioned it.
Old = Wise?
Nope! Well… not necessarily.
What is wisdom to my eye may have no bearing on your reality. I can learn from anyone and anyone can learn from me.
There are certain reflexive truths that are undisputable to most people – Fire is hot. Kicking a brick will hurt a toe. Ex husband #1 is a goofball. We all live and learn to find truths such as these. My mom may have said, “No Jali..hot!” or “Jali, don’t kick that!” or “He’s not the one, you idiot!”, but until I burnt my finger, stubbed my toe, and married “the one who shall not be named since evil minions may be listening and darkness may return to the earth”, I didn’t quite grasp the concepts my mom was trying to share.
It’s a positive thing to try to share the painful life lessons with our next generation so that they can avoid the scars and the pain. It’s also a positive thing when they ignore our warnings and learn these lessons for themselves.
I’m annoyed by those who feel it part of their duty to “enlighten me”. (especially those armed with the magical elixer of knowledge – malt liquor) Because someone was born 10 or 15 years before the glorious day of my birth doesn’t automatically make them any better than me in coping with my issues. Some of y’all really need to think about this – some of you know exactly what I’m talking about.
I’m annoyed at my contemporaries who dismiss the music, the dress, the opinions, and the dreams of our younger generation.
Remember the 70’s? The 80’s? Who the hell are we to criticize the way folks dress today? C’mon, I wore Afro Puffs, hot pants, neon tights, Mahogany- the lipstick, platform sparkly shoes that I could barely walk in, bubble shirt and a rawhide headband (and this is just one outfit) to hang out with my friends. I think to my parents and their friends I resembled a strange visitor to this planet.
Our music wasn’t as innocent as we claim either. Grace Jones single was all over the radio:”Pull up to my bumper baybay…with your long black limousine.” Were you allowed to play “Pillow Talk” by Sylvia at home? That record taught me how to fake it. How about the Funkadelic lyric, “You be my dog, I’ll be your tree and you can pee on me.”
I’m also annoyed at some youth who feel that I have nothing valid to say since I’m no longer hip – although I’m not conceding that point, I’m just sharing certain young peoples’ attitudes regarding my personal hipness quotient.
What I write here isn’t meant to be taken as the wisdom of the ages. These are my opinions (while always correct of course, look who’s talking) I hope to just make you think about these things. All this talking has to do with someone else’s site (sorry no link), where the question was raised, what is the point of a blog?
I’m not going to answer the question. Do I ever really answer the question? You two regular readers (sad stat since I have a big extended family who just happen to ignore me online) know that I’m not gonna answer the question.
But then, didn’t I just answer it?