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Generation gap?

I wrote a few months ago about a comment a friend made. He said: “Have you noticed that there aren’t as many old guys around as there used to be?” After a few seconds of reflection, the reason hit us both at the same time…. WE’RE the old guys now!

At this year’s Thanksgiving dinner, we had an unusual situation. We have a great-grand niece. Maybe she’s a great-great niece, not sure how that works…. She had her second birthday a couple months ago and she’s already “Little Miss Personality.” She stands less than two feet tall, but is a commanding presence. She says a few words we understand but she “talks” constantly.

“p1″>Her “conversation” includes dramatic expressions, inflections, and gestures. It’s like she’s communicating in a foreign language.  But she is so engaging that everyone responds as if they understand! “Really?” “No kidding?” “I guess so.” We have no idea what we’re agreeing with. It occurred to use that we may have promised to buy her a brand new red Corvette for her 16th birthday. She’ll start reminding us soon as she’s speaking our language. “When did we agree to that??!!”, we’ll ask. “At Thanksgiving diner in 2016!”, she’ll say. Who knows, she may be right….

Fun and charming as all this was, I got to discuss the generations with my uncle who was also with us. He is Dad’s youngest brother and the last of this branch of the clan. There’s my great uncle, still left. The generations came close to over-lapping. That great uncle was just a few years older than my Dad. This is a tough family tree to climb, but what it comes down to is that I’m the oldest of my generation. Yikes.

My Dad was born in the early 1920’s. His Dad, my beloved “Grandpop” was born in 1900. That meant HIS Dad, my Great-Grandpop, was born around 1880. And get this, I knew him too! I remember riding around with him in a bouncy mid-1920’s Ford pick-up. I don’t remember how it was engineered but I think the windshield folded down or had a horizontal panel that could be tilted to allow for more air-flow. No car seat or even seatbelt, of course. I wonder how this little 6 year- old stayed in the seat!

I do remember his standard, excellent, piece of advice: “I have so much to do I don’t know where to start. Might as well go fishin’.”

The house he and Great Grandma lived in had a crank telephone, a coal/wood stove for heat and cooking, and a pump at the sink. They had chickens for eggs and meat. They had real woodshed where he kept his flask of whiskey. (Great-Grandma was Women’s Christian Temperance Union, all the way.) I’ve got a set of salt and pepper shakers that belonged to them. It includes a Dalmatian with his leg lifted and a fire hydrant. She was so proper she kept them on different shelves in her curio cabinet. There was a barber chair in the living room bay window. Great Grandpop was a sort of freelance barber. I loved to sit in the chair and he offered to give it to me if I could get it home. I’m still sorry we couldn’t do it.

But the most amazing thing about these conversations, the memories they generate, and the thoughts they inspire is that I am now about the age Great-Grandpop was when these memories were created! I most certainly am one of the “old guys” now.

I wonder…. In 60-70 years, will little Natalie have such wonderful memories and stories to tell? I sure hope so; it’s one of the best things I can wish for her.

Wow. I’m smack-dab in the middle of a 200 year piece of history. I feel a little old… just a little.

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