People of a certain age share memories of special things that the current generation has little or no knowledge of. Nor, it seems, do they want to.
(Yes, I know I ended two sentences with a preposition. Not good writing style, but nothing else said it the same way.)
Case in point: Teenage interests of my generation compared to those of my grandchildren. The two are light years apart.
My kitchen successes can be counted on my two hands with a couple of digits to spare, but among them is the green bean casserole Iâve prepared for many, many years. There may be a glorious repast including traditional and exotic dishes, but if I donât serve that casserole at Thanksgiving and Christmas, it causes bad feelings among some members of my family.
My father never looked or acted like a daredevil, but in his younger life, he definitely was. Barely reaching the 5â 2â mark on the height chart, and wearing a size 5.5 shoe, he barely met the Armyâs size requirements.