DMB Digest: Age Authenticity

I'm too old to yeet you on up outta here.

To thine own self be true.

I’m not saying the day of my birth was closer to Shakespeare than to the viral yeet dance of 2014. I’m saying that Hamlet was more foundational to my cultural upbringing than the Vine video hosting platform was. My high school English class read Hamlet out loud, AND McBeth (What? You egg!…He has killed me, mother.) I can still see the pained expression on my buddy’s face as he pantomimes getting run through with a sword. (The pained expression on my teacher’s face was even more priceless.)

I was busy adulting stuff in 2014 when Lil Meatball first went viral for yeeting (God bless his little Texan soul). I don’t even remember 2014. I can more easily recall all of my creatively-enhanced stories from my larger-than-life escapades of 1993 than I can recall anything about 2014. The yeet dance craze and the new vocabulary word that emerged from it in no way impacted my development or where I am today.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t some old person rant about ‘kids these days’ and all their newfangled nonsense. It’s an old person rant about old people selling out their age-earned authenticity in order to try to blend in with upcoming generations.

I can chuck, yank, or yoink. (Or if you too are Texan, we will continue to “chunk.”) I’m too old to yeet. I don’t need to yeet. By all means, I encourage my children to yeet. Sometimes, yeeting something (or someone) is the right thing to do…if you’ve come of age in the mobile device era. But I was born before home computers and answering machines…and VHS.

I’ve earned the right to don my gay apparel before attending a Christmas party. Young’uns can’t pull that off. Heck, they don’t even know what it means. And I don’t have to apologize for something being wicked instead of sick. I’m part of the only generation that can authentically end a conversation with “word up!” Maybe I’m not quite old enough (nor did I smoke enough dope) to pull off hand-horns while saying it, but I can authentically exhort someone to “keep on rocking in the free world.” And I’m proud of these generational gifts. Why would I want to abandon them in order to adopt the up and coming colloquialisms of today’s youth? (Other than to annoy my sons, which is pretty entertaining.)

Old people, I’m talking to you now. Using young person slang doesn’t make you blend in. It robs you of your authenticity. It hastens the demise of your generation before their time. I, for one, choose not to go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Yadda yadda yadda. All that to say, speak your ancient idioms with pride and grace. Own your colloquial age. Cherish the slang of your youth. Only you and your ilk can do so with age-earned authenticity. And accordingly, allow Polonius’ words to ring ever true today:

This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Word to your mutha.

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Thanks so much for taking the time to read these scenes of Boundaries, Season 2 of The Green Ones. I’ll be publishing FREE daily scenes from The Green Ones until…I die…or something terrible happens. Seriously, I’ve got over 100 scenes written so far, and I’ll be writing more until the story reaches its natural ending. You are totally welcome to read the entire story for FREE! If at any point you decide you would rather finish the story in ebook or print format, just click the buttons below and you can do that as well. If you enjoy reading the serial releases, BUT you would also like to support me as a writer (my kids need wine!) please subscribe to my premium content for bonus scenes, exclusives, and insider access to my process. And of course, I’d be grateful if you would share this post with any of your reader friends who you think would enjoy The Green Ones. Happy reading!