Monday, April 02, 2007

Frank talk about Baby Boomers and the WWII Generation that preceded them...

Late last month, Alan Capasso at Chesterton and Friends had an interesting post with regard to Baby Boomers, society at large, and the Church. He explains:

Our parents grew out of a very rough time of the Depression... then WW2, and they did not want their kids to suffer in any way. We became the focus of their entire attention - we asked for something, we got it - we felt bad, they held us, and they became the servants - we were the masters. The world got turned upside-down. We were placed center stage.

He added links to posts by both the Catholic Exchange and Barbara Nicolosi. Barbara doesn't hold back any punches, as this excerpt attests:

I know I must be missing some really positive great things that have come from all the Boomer’s innovations in the Church. But I don’t think we are going to be able to save those unless we have a real, real, real serious “Come to Jesus Moment” on the part of the grey-haired revolutionaries. I think, the Baby Boomer Crusaders need to shake off the self-righeous denial and help us out here by admitting where they went wrong. They need to say, “We over-stepped here.” “We lost a value there.” “This was a big mistake. HUGE.”

It also reminded my of another post from Alan Capasso back in January. It's a wonderful post that triggered distant memories in my brain... vestiges of my childhood and, even more so, of my parents' early adulthood. Below are excerpts from the posting (I urge you to read it in full):

It was a time when the standard form of family entertainment was impromptu ‘get-togethers’. On any given evening the doorbell might ring and a neighbor or two would pop in or we might walk next door and do the same. Saturdays were the best when several families might just decide to all gather at our house. I do not remember my parents making any calls or plans in front of us; people would just show up. I always enjoyed these little parties, it meant extended playtime with my friends but most of all they provided me an opportunity where I could spy on the mysterious world of adults. None of the parents minded we were in the room, as long as we practiced the manners we were vigorously taught or kept the noise to a “dull roar”.

These parties would always follow the dramatic form of a 3-act play. The first act was the “meet-and-greet”, several conversations at once, quick jokes and family updates... One of my father’s top sources of pride was being able to say, “No one leaves my house hungry and if they do it’s their own fault”...

The second act was when the men would separate from the women. It was then that the men could talk man stuff and the women could talk woman stuff. The rule for us children was the prepubescents could wonder between both groups but after puberty we had to separate too or “disappear”...

The third act was when the adults would all do the clearing up and putting away with some last jokes, promises to do this again and herding up the kids. The announcement for this last act to begin was when one of the men would say, “Let’s go join the ladies.” And my dad would always say, “Yes let’s, so we can make one big lady”.

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