I heard a comedian say, “‘Millennials’ is a term that means ‘young people we don’t like.'” (I would cite the comic, but I don’t remember who he is.)
We love to pick on the kids, don’t we? I know they don’t deserve it, but I also know that they will probably talk about the generations that come after them. We all think we have the answers, and when someone younger comes along and questions our answers, we get defensive, pat them on the head, and send them on their way.
But I did see this the other day. Apparently, Millennials are getting Botox to create the perfect selfie. Seriously?
But, let’s be honest. When we use the term generally, what we’re really saying is that maybe 10 Millennials are doing this, but the story feeds our narrative. So we run with it.
But this post isn’t about Millennials. This is a song about Alice. (Just kidding.)
It’s about getting older. It’s going to happen. To you. To me. To everyone. Botox, silicone, collagen. Put whatever you want into your body. You will still get old. You will wrinkle.
In short, you’re going to die. (Preachers are all about good news.) We don’t like to think about it, and no one’s in a hurry for it to happen. But it will.
So instead of trying to pretty yourself up and act like you’re not going to die, why don’t you actually start to live?
How do you do that? Easy.
Tell someone you love them. Give some stuff away. Drive to one of the cheesy tourist destinations in your state. Eat bad pizza. Eat good pizza. Buy hiking boots. Use them. Laugh your ass off. Tell someone you love them. Invite someone over for dinner tomorrow. Listen to music from when you were a teenager. Turn it up too loud. Help someone. Eat dinner outside. Say thank you.
Tell someone you love them.
*The Boxer, Paul Simon