Talkin' bout my (re)generation

The Coach's Notes #49, a hyperlink adventure

By way of our linked edition today let's go on a little hyperlink adventure. So I'll tell a story on one level and the hyperlinks will take you deeper down the rabbit hole to expand the narrative.

Disclaimer: The Editor of these notes takes no responsibility for any time you might waste down the rabbit hole, nor does he take any responsibility for any lost productivity, momentary lapse of reason, or sudden anxiety attacks should you discover that things are not as they appear and that the hour is later than you think (definitely don’t click on this link if you’re prone to anxiety).

Remember how fun the internet of the 90s was? (if you're a stinking millennial reading this, then you won't understand, it's a Generation X thang.

Whatever happened to us Gen Xers anyway? We used to be the talk of the media the slacker generation, they called us…

only interested in getting McJobs to avoid being corporate drones like our parents were, working themselves to death like dogs, having bought into the myth of the American Dream - job for life, a modest house, white picket fence, a couple of cars, apple pie, Malls, suburbs and 2-weeks vacation in June or July.

Where’s Coupland when you need him?! The only time we make the headlines now is to point out that the majority of our generation has lots of debt, minimum savings, and a belly full of hate.

Oh Joy.

How did i get here anyway? I must be like Diamond Dave going crazy from the heat.

It’s not tragic dying doing something you love. The trick of course is to find the thing you love so much that you would be willing to die in pursuit of it. The last time I had that kind of zealousness I was an Infantry officer beholden to The Code.

You are sitting cross-legged on a tartan blanket. There are olives, artisan bread and red-pepper hummus in a Waitrose bag. You went to Waitrose because it seemed like a place that understood happiness.

You are in the shade. In the distance, a family are playing rounders. There is a tall lady walking a pointer. The sun is still on its way up and you have noticed the patch of shadow around you shrinking – the distinct blades of grass – the hyper-reality of late June.

You burn easily.

You fear cancer.

Taking the lid off the olives, you wonder whether to have a black one or a green one. You watch the line of shade shift.

What do you do?

Eat a green olive? or Eat a black olive?

I love the sun when it arrives crumpled up like an empty bag of Doritos from the other-side of the planet. Why did the chicken cross the road?

To get to the other-side? Or to get to THE other-side?

My life last week:

Alrighty, I have miles to go before I sleep. Hope you enjoyed this little hyperlink adventure, and if you made it this far, thanks for reading. Much love to you.

Clay

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