In about a decade—and maybe less—
They’ll be there knocking hard against the door:
The kids whose year of birth starts with “two-oh,”
Convinced that it’s their time to take the floor.
At first we’ll shake our heads in disbelief
And then we’ll mock their raw, untutored ways
And finally we’ll sit there in a daze,
Our burning anger yielding thus to grief.
Of course we’ve seen this sort of thing before
But then we were the ones proclaiming, “Go!”
Eventually each cohort ends their tour.
That’s the awful way the world works, I guess.
If “To all outward appearances State Deputy Vyacheslav Osipov seemed to be in an agreeable mood, except for the fact that he was dead,” isn’t the first line of a great novel, I don’t know what is.
Am I the only one who has noticed that there seems to be a spate of crisp new $1 bills in circulation? And am I the only one who is sort of hesitant to spend those bills, using larger denominations if necessary rather than part with that fresh, clean paper? It’s okay if the answer is “yes,” I am just trying to gauge how big of a dork I am in relation to society at large.