The questions of where you were when Columbine, 9/11, and the day that Michael Jackson died are my generation's markers.
As I sit here listening to Pink Floyd's "Time" and pondering what is to come, a wave of sadness hits me like a brick wall. And I realize. I am an adult. And these generational markers are occurring in my time.
I know where my mother was when Elvis died (she was at marching bad practice at Mount Airy High School on the football field, and it was announced on the intercom) and now...I will tell my nieces and nephews of the tragedies that occurred before they were born, too.
My parents' generation has the "Where were you when Kennedy was shot" question.
I am only 21, and I already have a lot of generational markers/tragedies.
Does life/existence grow exponentially?
(I really want to use the word "half-life" here...but I don't think it's the right way to explain this new theory)
This week has been kind of crazy. Jon and Kate are getting divorced and Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson all died. E! News has been ridiculously busy.
(OK, so, I took a 3 hour break writing this post and I got cheered up, so it didn't end up as serious as I was originally intending. But I really hope you understand what I'm trying to say. If not, I will get back to this eventually.)
For now, one of my favorite Michael Jackson songs:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment