Proof that I was born in the wrong time

I expect people to say what they mean and mean what they say. There was a time, not so long ago, when your word was your bond – think about what that means, why it mattered so much, and why it still ought to matter. I think about what it means all the time, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

This is not to say that there is no time and place for subtlety; it is an art I practice on personal and professional occasions that demand the same, but there is a difference between subtlety and deception, and I understand that difference – which is further proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I love ballads and story songs, and I hate songs that objectify women and/or justify criminality, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I think to be a “musician” you have to have talent that requires no electronic enhancement, and that you can’t be a “band” if you don’t play instruments, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

The kids call all of my mix CDs “Now That’s What I Call Can’t Let Go of the Past, Volume ___” and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I expect a gentleman to hold open doors for me, and I always thank them for doing it, but I have noticed that gentleman are becoming obsolete, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time. When I hear the excuse about how “women want to be independent, so let them open their own doors,” I wonder what battle they think they are winning. I think women are independent because they have to be, and that is further proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I think that any parent who chooses to abandon their child(ren) – physically, emotionally, or financially, should be publically flogged, shunned, and/or sent to a work camp, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time. I also think that children who abandon the parents who loved them to nursing homes (or worse) should receive the same treatment, and that is further proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I think children should do chores, and they should take care of/appreciate the material and nonmaterial things they have, and they should (ordinarily) respect their parents and other adults, in general. I think manner-less children who say/believe adults have to earn their respect, and parents who don’t teach their children to have manners and be respectful are ridiculous. That is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

A multi-generational family sharing a home makes perfect sense to me, as do “family businesses” where children are proud to follow in their parents footsteps. Yet, I can see how it is impossible for some people, including myself, to imagine sharing a home with their extended family and/or following in their multi-generational footsteps, and that makes me sad, which is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I think the concept of “neighborhood” was destroyed by the concept of “starter home,” and that none of us need a bigger, more expensive home more than we need neighbors and friends we can rely on, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

When I see/hear kids who have more stuff in their bedrooms than I had in my first apartment talking about how there’s “nothing to do” or how they’re “bored” or how it’s too hot/cold to go outside and play, I want to beat those kids – and when I hear parents talk about how it’s everyone else’s fault that their kid doesn’t make the grades/shouldn’t have to participate in PE, etc., I want to beat those parents, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I love the idea of marriage/commitment, but I understand the reality of selfishness, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I think that every man should know at least as much about basic home/auto maintenance as I do, and I prefer that they know more, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I think that if you are a woman, and your daughter does not at least know the basics about how to care for/present herself and her home with a little bit of (any kind of) style, you have failed your daughter, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I think the customer is always right, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

If I, as a customer, hear an employee talking to another employee about how much they hate their company/job, I think I should have a right to immediately fire that person, and receive a 20% discount for saving the company future embarrassment, and saving future customers the agony of having to put up with that kind of bullshit multitasking rather than having employees speedily ringing up their purchases LIKE THEY ARE PAID TO DO. I believe that as long as you are on the payroll, you should be (at least outwardly) loyal in the presence of customers, and that anything less is dishonorable/cowardly, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I despise people who talk on their cell phones in checkout lines of any sort, rather than acknowledge/speak to the person who is waiting on them, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time. I also think that “call waiting” is rude as hell, unless you suspect that the caller waiting may have an emergency of some sort, and that is further proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I enjoy spending time in places where my phone doesn’t work, and that is proof that I was born in the wrong time.

I love all ancient/magical things and places and times. I also love the idea of LARPers, though I’ve never met any of the sort — but when I do, I fully intend to LARP with the best of them, and that says just about everything anyone would ever need to know about how I was born in the wrong time.

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