You do you, boo, even if you are a boomer

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I think I’ve written about this exact site before. I’m not sure, I’m old and I’ve destroyed an impressive number of brain cells. I am also too lazy right now to check.

Either way.

I keep seeing articles promoted on Twitter by a site called Alot.

I don’t read the articles. I mean, I read a few. This is what I’m talking about when I say I’ve killed a shit ton of brain cells. 

I am reasonably sure I requested that those ads stop showing in my feed, but they keep coming back. They’re like undead slideshows.

It seems their entire reason for being is to write stories about how lame boomers are.

  • Only boomers think these styles look good
  • Foods that only boomers find cool
  • Only boomers love these tourist spots 
  • Kitchen designs that people who aren’t boomers hate

Who on earth thinks any food is cool?

I mean, unless they mean chilled. Because some food should be served chilled. Like Jello molds or Waldorf salad. Those were the most old lady chilled foods I could think of. 

Isn’t the point of food to be delicious?

Or to use as a numbing agent against the complete horror of 2020?

I saw one that said “These are the things that kitchen decor experts are sick of seeing

Fucking really?

I don’t want to denigrate anyone’s profession. I’m sure I don’t understand the benefits of hiring a kitchen decor expert. I’m just saying that it is 2020 and who gives a shit about kitchen decor right now? Much less spend any time worrying over what kitchen decor experts may or may not be sick of seeing.

I am a live and let live person when it comes to people’s choice on wardrobe or food, or for fuck’s sake, kitchen decor. You do you.

If you want to display chickens all over your kitchen, show them with pride. I defend you. I don’t particularly like chicken decor, but I support you and your chickens. Or sunflowers. Or ducks. Or whatever the fuck you put in your kitchen.

Which reminds me of when Randy and I were looking at houses. There was this one that we both loved, but it didn’t have a basement and Randy was adamant the a basement is essential so a tornado doesn’t get us. I used to make fun of him for that, but the weather is getting weirder and weirder. I’m glad we have a basement. 

But I digress.

Anyway, we looked all through the house anyway because we were there. I love looking at houses because I am an unrepentant voyeur. So, we noticed that there were roosters in every single room. Every room had either chickens or roosters in it. It could be wallpaper. Or a lamp that had a rooster as the base. Switch plates with chickens on them. They had a chicken statue every bedroom. 

I mean, we weren’t going to buy that house, but that was one of my favorite house hunting moments because it was like a live action Where’s Waldo. Only with roosters. 

Man, they really loved cock.

The point is, we have so much in front of us.

We’re just inundated with messages of division. Constant reminders that we are different in so many ways and that we should definitely be distrustful of those differences. It is just so silly. So freaking pointless.

Like I said, you do you.

It’s hard to even think about, but I don’t want to end this without acknowledging the passing of Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

I’m so sad she is gone and I am so grateful she was on this planet for as long as she was.

I sent our grandchildren books and coloring books about Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I want them to know who she was. Except our baby girl who just turned 1. I sent her a little black onesie with a white lacy color on it.

We all have to aspire to be like Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Don’t give up. Don’t stop fighting for what is right.

Now, excuse me, I feel compelled to make a Jello mold.

Image by David Anderson from Pixabay

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24 comments

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  • My sister gave me a very colorful chicken with fake flowers in it, years ago. I never put it out because I don’t have anything chicken related in my house. My sister’s been gone for 15 years now, and I am damn well going to put that chicken somewhere! Thank you Michelle. You are my inspiration to get that cute, colorful chicken out of hiding! I’m going to make some chicken salad now. Stay well!

  • Not only is it boomer vs everybody but cities vs rural. Northeast vs southwest, the Midwest vs everybody else, straight vs gay, white vs black, and on and on.
    Ya know what the problem is?
    We keep “normalizing” things. when you normalize you make your way right and the others wrong. and not only wrong but a threat.
    Example: People have their panties in a twist because the BLM group wants to de-normalize the “traditional family”. They are not against the traditional family but the just want to expand the idea of family to include other type of family structures – extended families for example or same sex families.
    We are tired of these narrow definitions being normalized where everybody outside the norm is aberrant and wrong.
    And I’m f’ing tired of hearing about what “God wants” – just because your God thinks something is normal does not mean it is or should be normal for everybody else.

    Love your blog – we are next door in Indiana

    • I’m glad you are here! Howdy neighbor. My husband is from Indiana. Peru. And thank you for your kind words about my blog. I appreciate it.

      And yes to everything you said. That is the problem. It seems like so many people need a group of people to hate on and it’s just so stupid and counterproductive.

  • I too, am so tired of the divisiveness. I also enjoy the differences, and looking at houses and seeing what people do. Once we looked at a house and the realtor apologized to us for all the cow themed rooms and kitchen. I thought her apologizing was inappropriate. Any buyer that doesn’t like cows should be smart enough to know they don’t come with the house. If we had really been looking for a new home just the way that realtor behaved would make me hesitant to work with her, to give her a cut of anything. Felt sorry for the owner. RIP RBG.

    • Yeah, when we sold our house, I took ALL of our personality out and made it bland. I’m sure it helped to sell it, but holy shit that took over a year to finish. When we sell this house, it’s getting sold with the purple and blue ceilings.

  • Our last name means “rooster” in German, but I have resisted the urge to use that as a decorating theme. Currently there is just a funky metal one on our fireplace. Family members used to give my late mother-in-law roosters all the time as gifts but there was no hard evidence that she actually appreciated that lol.

    I agree so much much with your “live and let live” attitude. This world would be so boring if we were all alike – why do people want that? Differences are what make people interesting. And it just makes me crazy when people appoint themselves as the authority to say something is wrong. It used to be people could only be judgmental with friends, acquaintances and family members but with the internet they can now pass judgement on everyone! Oh joy. We just have to tune that stuff out. Thank you Michelle for always being a voice of sanity.

  • Purple & blue ceilings? I didn’t know that. Post pictures!

    Sadly, I have GOP friends who are taking great glee in RBG’s death and saying awful things. I’ve known these women for over 40 years and while they’ve voiced their opinions (I don’t discuss politics if at all humanly possible), I’ve never heard the kind of venom they’re spewing now. I’m too old to make new friends so am just ignoring their bile. All I can think of is – there goes Roe v Wade and ACA.

    I’m hoping the election goes off as smoothly as will be allowed, and that the turd in the White House leaves quietly and without invoking Marshall Law. (Well, my name is now on a ‘list’ somewhere).

    The onesie sounds adorable.

  • I learned to appreciate a wide variety of home decors when I did home delivery of furniture and appliances. I myself am not picky about it, so long as it isn’t too much of a pain in the ass to live around.
    One house, on Octavia Street in San Francisco was a stand-out, and your mention of cock as a motif reminded me of it.
    This very nice house was inhabited by four or five gay guys in their thirties, and they were taking full advantage of living in San Francisco where the “gay as a home decor” is concerned. I don’t know what any of them did for a living, but whatever it was, it must have paid well, as they had the entire upper floor of a Victorian looking house in a nice neighborhood, and it was well appointed even so.
    Now a small note: I always made a point of failing to react to in-your-face displays of lifestyle when I came across them in customer’s homes. They were their homes, and I feel strongly that one should be able to live however one prefers in one’s home, and I was not even a visitor, I was a goddamn delivery person who just so happened to need to get all the way inside the living space in order to do my job. Also, I really liked that job a whole lot.
    Now this place was decorated gay. I can search the thesaurus for words and phrases like, say, flamboyant, over the top, flaming, etc. and still come up far short of what these nice gentlemen had achieved.
    Penises. Everywhere. On pictures on the walls (I’ll get to that in a minute) on little statuettes on the mantle, As a motif in the wallpaper. Embroidered into the curtains. The banister posts were penises. The light switches were penises. There were dark carved wood penises as bookends on the built-in bookshelves, stocked with books with more penises in them.
    We were delivering them a new refrigerator, a 24 cubic foot one, I believe, and as is the case with so many houses in San Francisco, the landing on the stairway wasn’t big enough for it to turn the required 90 degrees to go up the rest of the stairway, so we had to pick it up and sit the dolly wheels on the first stair up. I was on the bottom so my job was to lift the refrigerator by the strap that held it to the dolly, high enough so that Bill, who was lifting from the dolly itself, could take two steps backward and set the dolly wheels on the first stair up from the landing, so there would be room to tilt it backward without damaging the walls.
    Bill stumbled a little as the refrigerator swung around, and to avoid a catastrophe, I had to reach down and grab the thing by the bottom and try to keep it from bashing into the very expensive looking wallpaper.
    It worked, but it sort of pinned me against the wall in an awkward position, and I held my end straight while Bill got his footing again.
    When I say pinned against the wall, what I mean is that my face was pushed right up against the glass covering of a poster they had hanging on the landing of their stairway. And, of course, the poster was of penises. About a hundred of them I would guess. Little hairy rows of them and little columns of them in a poster that it took me a moment through my skewed glasses to actually register what they were.
    I stood up and sat the refrigerator about three stairs up the stairway.
    Bill made little panicky noises as he tried to maintain his balance, but as soon as he saw what had happened, he calmed right down.
    Nothing was said to the nice gentlemen who lived there, and they tipped us forty American dollars, if I remember correctly.
    Cocks. As decor. Been there. Lived through it.
    Ruth Bader Ginsberg fought like hell for a society where those nice gay guys could live the way they wanted, and I have no idea what they are up to now, but you can bet your bottom dollar that they are out there working to get Biden elected.
    Born in 1960, I’m a damn boomer, and by boomer, I mean someone whose electric guitar can be heard four city blocks away if I turn it up past six.
    I hope you guys are doing OK in the continuing apocalypse, and I have been known to tease folks about living in tornado country, but I will STFU about all of that at least until the 283,000 acre monster of a fire that is still three ridges to the east of us has been put out for a good long time.
    They’re estimating the middle of October for that, and bless them for saving us all.

    • Okay, Doug…THAT was a funny story. I mean, I’m glad you are okay and all, but that is hilarious.

      And we are staying put and staying safe. I’m glad you are still safe from the fires.

  • A RBG onesie!!! I love it!!!
    I don’t really understand all of the random list posts on social media. Or the “We can tell how old you are by taking this quiz” things.
    Like, do we really need to spend 25 minutes figuring out what kind of potato we would be?

  • I’m also a live-and-let-live guy. My mother-in-law has owls all over her house. I never thought about it before but I’m pretty sure if you looked you could find owls in every room of her house. That’s not as funny as roosters (and, yes, “they really loved cock” made me laugh out loud and you got to it before I thought of it which is perfect timing) but it’s a cool thing. When I see an owl knickknack or anything with an owl on it I want to buy it for her to add to her collection.
    Sometimes it’s frustrating. A voice in my head says, “well, you should be critical of some things.” And then another voice in my head says, “Yeah, racism, bigotry, shit like that–but really if you’re gonna be critical start with yourself, because criticizing other people while ignoring your own faults makes you an asshole. Make the world a better place by starting with yourself.”
    And I think that’s a lesson Justice Ginsburg tried to teach us. It wasn’t an inwardly focused way of making the world better, but in a way she started with herself: she saw that people like her–specifically women–didn’t have the same opportunities as men, didn’t have the opportunities they deserved, and she did her best to change that.

  • I like the ‘you do you’ stuff. It ties in with Ruth. Long live RBG. And all she stood for, all she did, in her long, long career of doing for us. For our freedom. Which right now I am terrified will soon all be undone. Imagine if you spent your entire career making positive changes for your fellow humans, only to see it all undone in the blink of an eye. Sorry, but that’s where my head is right now.
    Love your posts – they give me perspective.

  • But Michelle! If websites didn’t tell us who or what we’re supposed to mock or hate, HOW WOULD WE KNOW?!? (If I could, I would now insert the semi-famous picture I have of my daughter doing an epic eyeroll when she was about 4.)

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