GW Yeatman
Once I was proud to say I was born in the first half of the 20th Century, although I silently treasured it more than audibly proclaiming it. Today, however, that sounds like a “long-long-ago-in-a-far-away place” fairy tale. Born in 1946, I was in the leading edge of the baby boomer bulge. Unlike my older brother who was a child during WWII, I had no concept of war having been a recent event. It was very ancient history to me. Hitler may as well have been Napoleon. In Boy Scouts we made fun of the Führer in a toilet paper skit--that fecal tyrant of yesteryear now wiped out and flushed.
Now the Civil War, as it is frequently, called was even more ancient at one hundred years--an eternity. Today, as my childhood friend from Ecuador points out, he and I are half the "distance" into the future as the war had been into the past, a shear impossibility. The War Between the States is now 150 years past! How could that be?
At fifteen years of age, it seemed that a decade and a half was quite a long time. My classmates and I felt as though we were adults. Indeed, 15 years had been our entire lives, how else were we supposed to view it? I even wrote a biography for school titled "my life".
Dates into the future seemed astronomically distant. The book 1984 was futuristic science fiction, but now the date and book are but fleeting memories. My adolescent buddies and I plotted--no matter where we were--to get together when the great, celestial spectacle Halley's Comet returned in 1987. Again, it seemed like we would be meeting almost a lifetime into the future. It came, the comet fizzled, and we didn't even bother to get together. We did discuss it, but both the spectacle and its eternity had diminished.
Less than a decade after adolescence I was in medical school, but the eight years of prior schooling had seemed like forever. Shortly after graduation I began collecting "old" medical books. This included a set of the Transactions of the New York Medical Society from 1884 to 1889. It seemed that I would have to keep them many, many years before they were a hundred years old. The first one was only about dozen years out, but that was almost half of my existing life. Another was a third of my life beyond the first. Presently it seems that I’ve had those books for ages and now I am half as old as they are!
When we are very young even five years can seem like an eternity. My grandson Jordan at about that age showed me pictures of himself taken "a long time ago." Time is, in fact, very relative. And by that I don't mean I have relatives who have been around a long time! Although it’s true. In the past few years I have had two great uncles die at the "ripe old age" of about ninety-five, a third of the age of our country!
What does it mean to be ripe when we are old anyway? Well, that is another discussion entirely. Maybe I will address it at a later date, "time" permitting.
Once I was proud to say I was born in the first half of the 20th Century, although I silently treasured it more than audibly proclaiming it. Today, however, that sounds like a “long-long-ago-in-a-far-away place” fairy tale. Born in 1946, I was in the leading edge of the baby boomer bulge. Unlike my older brother who was a child during WWII, I had no concept of war having been a recent event. It was very ancient history to me. Hitler may as well have been Napoleon. In Boy Scouts we made fun of the Führer in a toilet paper skit--that fecal tyrant of yesteryear now wiped out and flushed.
Now the Civil War, as it is frequently, called was even more ancient at one hundred years--an eternity. Today, as my childhood friend from Ecuador points out, he and I are half the "distance" into the future as the war had been into the past, a shear impossibility. The War Between the States is now 150 years past! How could that be?
At fifteen years of age, it seemed that a decade and a half was quite a long time. My classmates and I felt as though we were adults. Indeed, 15 years had been our entire lives, how else were we supposed to view it? I even wrote a biography for school titled "my life".
Dates into the future seemed astronomically distant. The book 1984 was futuristic science fiction, but now the date and book are but fleeting memories. My adolescent buddies and I plotted--no matter where we were--to get together when the great, celestial spectacle Halley's Comet returned in 1987. Again, it seemed like we would be meeting almost a lifetime into the future. It came, the comet fizzled, and we didn't even bother to get together. We did discuss it, but both the spectacle and its eternity had diminished.
Less than a decade after adolescence I was in medical school, but the eight years of prior schooling had seemed like forever. Shortly after graduation I began collecting "old" medical books. This included a set of the Transactions of the New York Medical Society from 1884 to 1889. It seemed that I would have to keep them many, many years before they were a hundred years old. The first one was only about dozen years out, but that was almost half of my existing life. Another was a third of my life beyond the first. Presently it seems that I’ve had those books for ages and now I am half as old as they are!
When we are very young even five years can seem like an eternity. My grandson Jordan at about that age showed me pictures of himself taken "a long time ago." Time is, in fact, very relative. And by that I don't mean I have relatives who have been around a long time! Although it’s true. In the past few years I have had two great uncles die at the "ripe old age" of about ninety-five, a third of the age of our country!
What does it mean to be ripe when we are old anyway? Well, that is another discussion entirely. Maybe I will address it at a later date, "time" permitting.
No comments:
Post a Comment