I don't remember if it was the specific word "impactful," or something similar, but there was a time the pastors of my church started using a current "buzzword" like that many times each teaching. It was so annoying that my husband and I turned it into a drinking game. We were attending a church where they served coffee that you could take into the sanctuary. Every time someone would use the word we'd look at each other and drink. I don't think anyone caught on, and we were both amused and better able to cope with the irritation.
There little better than reading your column as dawn breaks on a new day (ok, maybe that first cup of coffee!). Our shared "irrelevance" stills the ever-haunting thought, "oh God, can I really be 72-years old"? Thank you Garrison for stilling that dark thought. Your constant reader needs that morning fix!
I am that woman in charge of practical matters and I know it's who I am and why I am in this marriage with an artist husband who could care less about the floor needing to be sanded. somehow it's worked for 54 years. I didn't know this 54 years ago when i first laid eyes on him. he was a longhaired musician who wore a black trench coat. we were too young to get married and he would not have been my choice 25 years later. but so it goes and so is Life. we didn't change horses in mid-stream and it's all the way god planned it. next week I have a party planned to celebrate my 100 year old mother who is a New Yorker through and through. We live in Wisconsin, the state next to Minnesota and it has many similarities. I love our cabin on a lake and I love the forests and the eskers, kames and rolling hills. he was from Wisconsin farming family and I from NY Jewish professionals. And now my mother will be 100 and we will raise our glasses to a very special woman. and of course it's me the practical half who is planning the party. he is eating popcorn and watching the Game.
Dressing well when going to the doctor makes a massive if unstated difference in how they view treatment plans and projected outcome. Well worth doing. Makes a difference in many other interactions with folks who have choice in their decisions concerning outcomes that affect you.
I was impressed by your use of the word "schlump". Merriam-Webster describes schlump as a Yiddish slang word meaning sloppy or dowdy first used in 1941. I think its interesting that a guy from the farmland of the Midwest like you would use a Yiddish word like schlump. Then again, someone residing New York City all these years might hear and pick up a lot of Yiddish in that time. You could be compared to Billy Crystal. "Mazal Tov"
Your generation actually does have a name; the "silent generation" or "builders." That's for anyone born 1924 to 1946. I think you are in there somewhere. One author wrote a book about the Builders, Boomers, and Busters (also known as GenX). Unfortunately I don't remember the title or the author. I actually did workshops on generational differences which helped people understand characteristics and to think about experiences. That was 25 or 30 years ago. I do try to keep up on the next groupings of generations but I get confused. Are they millenials or GenZ?
Impact as a verb? Not that bad, when you consider other recast buzzwords. Remember 'paradigm? We endured a period when speakers could not possibly omit its mention during a presentation. I believe it grew in popularity due to its exotic spelling and vague meaning. More recently, we heard 'moving forward' ad nauseum and I don't know how we could have moved any other way. Laterally perhaps? And now we hear 'UPSPEAK' peppered liberally with "Right?" as though the speaker needs constant reassurance or has an unfortunate speech tic. A young Presbyterian minister used 'Right?' copiously during her remarks at my grand kids' recent baptism, right?, and I think it is important, right?, to convey a sense of - like - confidence, right?, when speaking, berobed, moving forward, from the altar. Like. Right? Paradigm. ****
This essay was fantastic and spot on. The joke with my wife, only 6 years my junior, is that she keeps me around to open jars, dispatch large insects, and make popcorn on the stove. And you are correct. Baseball is much better with the sound turned down.
My bride is the boss of the household. She manages the money, does the food shopping, decides how the remodeled kitchen should look, decorates the new house, deals with the mortgage company and lazy contractors. She does it all. My job? Earn a paycheck, take out the garbage, fix it if it's broken and do the manual labor. Other than that I have zero authority around here and apparently, because I am a man and plagued with a curious sense of humor, I am not allowed to wander around unsupervised. When I get on my bicycle or motorcycle and head off to parts unknown, I'm free to get in trouble at my own expense. But around here, a permission slip and interview is required before any tools are put to use inside the confines of these walls. If it makes her happy, I'm okay with that.
By the way, I went to my see my doctor last week in a t-shirt, cargo shorts and boat shoes with no socks. Deplorable, I know.
We're only a few years apart in the aging process, so count me among those who played the same games of yesteryear, e.g. jumping tall buildings in a single bound, the thought of which makes my replaced right knee ache.
As for our summer visits to Grandma's farmhouse in South Dakota, I do recall the pee-pot for night-time use when we three boys slept in a single upstairs bed, If you had to go #2, it was down the stairs to the outhouse and the Sears catalog. I'll never forget the smell of that two-holer, and still glad our trip to the farm wasn't in the winter.
As for encroachment, I don't worry a snit about those south-traveling Canadians so far, nor would I care about many of the Latinos who are heading north and would gladly fill the jobs of some former workers who seemingly have decided not to work.
Like you, I've been lucky in marriage, only longer. 60 years ago, and oathed I'm blest to a take-charge, wise woman, former nurse aide, who has helped me come through cancer surgery and radiation therapy and....well, enough of that.
My long-term marriage is a result of an Irish blessing from my dear mother, RIP, whom, over 60 years ago, I told I was going to marry a beautiful and wise woman. She looked at me in her wisened way and said, "Good luck!!!" A few years later that luck did happen to me and, sure enough, it still is true. Little did I realize back then that I was given an Irish blessing.
I still watch baseball TV, a devoted Twins fan. Here's a tip I got from my son to avoid the engrossing TV ads. It helps some if you tape the game for 15-20 minutes, as you can then watch the game and fast-forward the ads....save the embedded ones.
How great thou art, Mr Keillor. I salute thee.
"Impact" as a verb was a big pet peeve of mine, too, back in the 1990s. And that was before "impactful" came along.
I happily impacted this into my cranium.
I don't remember if it was the specific word "impactful," or something similar, but there was a time the pastors of my church started using a current "buzzword" like that many times each teaching. It was so annoying that my husband and I turned it into a drinking game. We were attending a church where they served coffee that you could take into the sanctuary. Every time someone would use the word we'd look at each other and drink. I don't think anyone caught on, and we were both amused and better able to cope with the irritation.
There little better than reading your column as dawn breaks on a new day (ok, maybe that first cup of coffee!). Our shared "irrelevance" stills the ever-haunting thought, "oh God, can I really be 72-years old"? Thank you Garrison for stilling that dark thought. Your constant reader needs that morning fix!
I am that woman in charge of practical matters and I know it's who I am and why I am in this marriage with an artist husband who could care less about the floor needing to be sanded. somehow it's worked for 54 years. I didn't know this 54 years ago when i first laid eyes on him. he was a longhaired musician who wore a black trench coat. we were too young to get married and he would not have been my choice 25 years later. but so it goes and so is Life. we didn't change horses in mid-stream and it's all the way god planned it. next week I have a party planned to celebrate my 100 year old mother who is a New Yorker through and through. We live in Wisconsin, the state next to Minnesota and it has many similarities. I love our cabin on a lake and I love the forests and the eskers, kames and rolling hills. he was from Wisconsin farming family and I from NY Jewish professionals. And now my mother will be 100 and we will raise our glasses to a very special woman. and of course it's me the practical half who is planning the party. he is eating popcorn and watching the Game.
I salute your bravery and humor and resourcefulness. I changed horses twice and God forgive me but I'm glad to be where I am.
Loved this impactful piece. I giggled to myself while reading.
Dressing well when going to the doctor makes a massive if unstated difference in how they view treatment plans and projected outcome. Well worth doing. Makes a difference in many other interactions with folks who have choice in their decisions concerning outcomes that affect you.
Very true
Wonderful thoughts. I btw am so 19th c that i''d say AN historic personage. ...
I was impressed by your use of the word "schlump". Merriam-Webster describes schlump as a Yiddish slang word meaning sloppy or dowdy first used in 1941. I think its interesting that a guy from the farmland of the Midwest like you would use a Yiddish word like schlump. Then again, someone residing New York City all these years might hear and pick up a lot of Yiddish in that time. You could be compared to Billy Crystal. "Mazal Tov"
There aren't good words in English thatt match it. Same with schlemiel and meshugenah. And Mishiggoss.
And ferkochta
Your generation actually does have a name; the "silent generation" or "builders." That's for anyone born 1924 to 1946. I think you are in there somewhere. One author wrote a book about the Builders, Boomers, and Busters (also known as GenX). Unfortunately I don't remember the title or the author. I actually did workshops on generational differences which helped people understand characteristics and to think about experiences. That was 25 or 30 years ago. I do try to keep up on the next groupings of generations but I get confused. Are they millenials or GenZ?
Impact as a verb? Not that bad, when you consider other recast buzzwords. Remember 'paradigm? We endured a period when speakers could not possibly omit its mention during a presentation. I believe it grew in popularity due to its exotic spelling and vague meaning. More recently, we heard 'moving forward' ad nauseum and I don't know how we could have moved any other way. Laterally perhaps? And now we hear 'UPSPEAK' peppered liberally with "Right?" as though the speaker needs constant reassurance or has an unfortunate speech tic. A young Presbyterian minister used 'Right?' copiously during her remarks at my grand kids' recent baptism, right?, and I think it is important, right?, to convey a sense of - like - confidence, right?, when speaking, berobed, moving forward, from the altar. Like. Right? Paradigm. ****
Well, at least we're not discussing 'impacted.'
🤣
This essay was fantastic and spot on. The joke with my wife, only 6 years my junior, is that she keeps me around to open jars, dispatch large insects, and make popcorn on the stove. And you are correct. Baseball is much better with the sound turned down.
My bride is the boss of the household. She manages the money, does the food shopping, decides how the remodeled kitchen should look, decorates the new house, deals with the mortgage company and lazy contractors. She does it all. My job? Earn a paycheck, take out the garbage, fix it if it's broken and do the manual labor. Other than that I have zero authority around here and apparently, because I am a man and plagued with a curious sense of humor, I am not allowed to wander around unsupervised. When I get on my bicycle or motorcycle and head off to parts unknown, I'm free to get in trouble at my own expense. But around here, a permission slip and interview is required before any tools are put to use inside the confines of these walls. If it makes her happy, I'm okay with that.
By the way, I went to my see my doctor last week in a t-shirt, cargo shorts and boat shoes with no socks. Deplorable, I know.
I agree. A short-sleeved shirt makes it easier for them to take blood pressure and draw blood.
You've just described my typical "uniform." Fashion plate, I am not! :D
We're only a few years apart in the aging process, so count me among those who played the same games of yesteryear, e.g. jumping tall buildings in a single bound, the thought of which makes my replaced right knee ache.
As for our summer visits to Grandma's farmhouse in South Dakota, I do recall the pee-pot for night-time use when we three boys slept in a single upstairs bed, If you had to go #2, it was down the stairs to the outhouse and the Sears catalog. I'll never forget the smell of that two-holer, and still glad our trip to the farm wasn't in the winter.
As for encroachment, I don't worry a snit about those south-traveling Canadians so far, nor would I care about many of the Latinos who are heading north and would gladly fill the jobs of some former workers who seemingly have decided not to work.
Like you, I've been lucky in marriage, only longer. 60 years ago, and oathed I'm blest to a take-charge, wise woman, former nurse aide, who has helped me come through cancer surgery and radiation therapy and....well, enough of that.
My long-term marriage is a result of an Irish blessing from my dear mother, RIP, whom, over 60 years ago, I told I was going to marry a beautiful and wise woman. She looked at me in her wisened way and said, "Good luck!!!" A few years later that luck did happen to me and, sure enough, it still is true. Little did I realize back then that I was given an Irish blessing.
I still watch baseball TV, a devoted Twins fan. Here's a tip I got from my son to avoid the engrossing TV ads. It helps some if you tape the game for 15-20 minutes, as you can then watch the game and fast-forward the ads....save the embedded ones.
Still, and with all that, lucky we are!