An Open Letter to the Future

Greetings, future Earthlings! As i write, the last echoes of graduation ceremonies, funeral potatoes, and bagpipes playing “Amazing Grace” are fading. And so, looking forward, i turn my attention to a melancholic note. One that spurs a most peculiar thought: an apology is due. Yes, a grand, sweeping apology from us, the bumbling knuckle-draggers of the past, to you, the magnificent inheritors of our glorious mess.

Now, hold your horses, don’t get all misty-eyed just yet. As your Nana, bless her soul, would say, “Things could be worse! You could be fleeing a warzone with the Red Army on your tail!” Perspective, loopers! But even nestled here in the (relatively) stable heartland, the news wafting in from Europe and the Middle East leaves a bitter taste in the mouth – like burnt toast dipped in existential dread. It’s almost as if humanity forgot the whole “war is a racket” memo.

And wouldn’t you know it, the blame falls squarely on our generation, the Boomers. We just can’t seem to learn, can we? First, the Y2K fiasco – imagine the horror, computers bursting into flames! Then, the Neocon warhawks with their delusions of global domination. Then, the financial meltdown of ’07-’09 – a real doozy, that one. And as if that wasn’t enough, we had to throw in the culture wars, turning political disagreements into a grotesque vaudeville show with enough vitriol to power a small sun.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on Trump, the Rona, and the current crop of armchair generals itching for a Civil War 2.0 – a Facebook-fueled spectacle for the ages! You, my dear loopers, didn’t ask for any of this. Yet, the fallout from our relentless greed and short-sightedness lands squarely on your laps. First, you’ll have to survive the mess, then sift through the wreckage, salvaging what’s left to build something better.

Look, i know i’m adding to the cacophony with this rant. But my anger isn’t fueled by the 24/7 news cycle’s relentless negativity. No, it’s a white-hot rage at the sheer waste! We have the resources, the know-how, to create a world where everyone thrives. But that would require dismantling a system designed to reward the greediest, most acquisitive loopers in the room. Yeah, like that’ll ever happen.

So, are we, the supposed “Citizens of the Milky Way,” doomed? Or can we make the changes needed? Only time, and you, the future inheritors of our legacy, will tell.

In the meantime, accept my apologies, my heartfelt (and slightly tearful) apologies, for the world you’ve been handed. May you rise to the challenge and create a future worthy of your dreams, even if it means starting from scratch on a smoking pile of our mistakes.

Sincerely (and with a touch of trepidation),

A contrite boomer… R.H.

Geisterfahrer

    
Mary Sanchez… fell in love
Time with her Romeo was never enough
Headin’ southbound Santa Fe…
Makin’ plans for their big day
In a red Ford sedan on a sunny Saturday
Off into the early morn…
Waved goodbye with a kiss
For a beauty salon on the south side
of her bliss

And you who carry the world…
without an alibi
Turn away from the river of tears…
There’s so much pressure on you
Too much to do… ain’t no time…

Jimmy James Fitch… came unhinged…
Playa’ livin’ large drove a jet black ‘Cedes Benz
Fell on hard times… conditions so unkind
Lost direction… lost perception…
and finally lost his mind…
Turned his Benz into Santa Fe…
Headin’ north on a southbound lane
with the pedal to the metal…
determination on his face

And you who carry the world…
without an alibi
Turn away from the river of tears…
There’s so much pressure on you
Too much to do… ain’t no time…

Mary’s Romeo got the call
Found Jimmy James Fitch…
Found Mary… saw it all
Saw the red Ford sedan…
The black Mercedes Benz
Tangled up in a blacktop bed…
of shattered diamonds

And you who carry the world
without an alibi
Dive deep into the river of tears…
And meander to the ocean…
There’s nothin’ but time now…

Time
Time
Time