The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

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The Supreme Court of Alabama just decided that a fertilized embryo, frozen even, constituted a living human being, meaning that if you killed little Jimmy, you’re liable for murder. The Head Justice declared this was the will of God. Hard to argue against the will of God, that’s for sure. Probably not too long before sperm is considered human life, maybe ban contraceptives that prevent the little wigglies from doing what the Lord Almighty intended them to do.

Kinda hate to admit it in these theocratic times, but back 53 years ago I had a vasectomy. I know, the statute of limitations over the murder of a million potential lives may not apply. And even if it didn’t, Eternal Damnation might still be in store for this boy. All I thought I was doing, mistaken though it might have been, was trying to avoid an unwanted pregnancy. At the time I really didn’t consider myself a serial killer. Alabama might.

Maybe the solution to the ‘immigration problem’ is really more unwanted pregnancies, a boost in the low wage baby force to take those jobs nobody wants now except the immigrants. Get rid of legal abortion, maybe ban all contraceptives, forbid sex ed in our schools, let the Lord’s will be done, hey, we don’t need cheap labor from the south lands, we’ll have plenty right here. Course, the local yokels might not pick our crops, build our houses, landscape our lawns or dig our ditches — not for sub wages.

If it costs a little more, if we need to raise minimum wages, if taxes have to go up, well, I’m okay with that, I’m completely chill. Just don’t put me on trial for first degree murder. Don’ put me and my fellow murderers digging ditches. We’ll get our justice in the next life down in a burning Hell. Where I’m damn sure I’ll be in good company.

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I was listening to some talking head today describing the kids entering the Job Market. They wanted to work at home, at their own computer stations, alone. Skip the co-worker interaction, they really haven’t learned social skills. Unless you count Tweeting.

I got friends whose kids never make eye contact, who never look up from their X-Box, who have no need to say hello, who live in a digital suburb of my reality but never find a reason to wander over for a Look-See. The gulf between us is huge and growing rapidly into a cultural chasm.

My folks always believed us kids were better seen, not heard, but they made sure we said hello to guests and answered a few perfunctory questions before we scurried to our rooms or the den. The kids — and especially the grandkids — of my pals, they’re beyond social graces. I suspect the workplace of their future will forego watercooler banter and co-worker etiquette. Might just as well let em work at home in their bedroom and send their reports at the end of the day.

The only problem I have with all this is that us Boomers still have to deal with them. When we’re gone, they can tweet and twitter to their hearts’ content, they can social media long distance, they can avoid face to face human interaction and lock into video games, stream Netflix and update their Facebook. But meanwhile I still have to stand next to cellphone users and my buddies’ kids playing video. When we’re gone, they won’t even notice. But it’s going to be a different world, a lot less personal, way less intimate. I suspect they’ll enjoy the peace and quiet. I’m trying to do the same….

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